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"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 HamBorgerâ„¢ 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.

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