"You're under Seizure Regulation fifteen."

"You're under Seizure Regulation fifteen." That meant no trial because the fifteen regulations covered espionage and terrorism. What a joke he thought, but the Borg
had already set the table and so they all sat down to the mechanized meatloaf. "Beep beep boop" (or "delicious mechanized meatloaf") was heard all around. The Borg were proud.
now they had a use for all of their cutlery. The Borg decided to do home delivery with this new cuisine and set off for the
great untapped suburbs. For the Borg, franchising was easy. Its motto was "Food 30 minutes late? Assimilate!" There were no complaints from customers or they would be
forcefed HamBorger™ with a funnelgun. Within 30sec they were 300 lbs overweight and became part of the adipose collective.
Yes, the adipose had melded together to form a giant white sentient blob of fat, with stubby little limbs and a goofy little face. It squeaked and waved a blobbish arm, then
disappeared amongst the crowd, fitting in surprisingly well despite being a blubbery monster. It had escaped, rebuilt, and now it was time to destroy it's creator. For the good
of humanity, I must punish God for creating Fat Godzillla. "Bad omnibenevolent creator! Bad!" I said. I was totally destroying God's psyche. Now to destroy Him. I hid a pitfall
trap in a nearby grassy area, baited with manna & a goblet of nice merlot. Sure enough, God sauntered by,then paused & sniffed. "Eat it. Drink it." I hissed. "Get thee behind me!"
God stepped into the trap and died from drinking the corked merlot. Life carried on and on Monday my daughter was still complaining about how I am so uncool.

Started: 2011-02-26 16:38:51
Finished: 2013-04-22 11:59:58

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