Slus sported a hive-shaped bonnet. A trendsetter

Slus sported a hive-shaped bonnet. A trendsetter at heart, Slus strutted down the railroad tracks, gathering the attention of Philip Treacy, newly-hoboed milliner.

"You're the result of pulling out too late" Philip shouted at Slus. Slus could tell his father had been drinking. Not by the insults, those were normal. The entourage tipped him

in nickels which made his pockets bulge with metal. Slus hobbled up to his drunk father, he said, "You're a lousy golfer." His father Philip punched him in the thigh and busted

his five-iron over his son's head. "Son, I'll have ye know I once shot three holes in one! That's one swing, three holes! Try ta beat THAT!" Then he turned around and fell into

a vat of black treacle as sticky as a sticky stick stuck to a stoat. His son reached in to try & pull him out but the treacle sucked and swallowed both with a great gloopy glug.

This investor was a crook, I was convinced. He couldn't spell potato properly. He was dyslexic.I had to correct his spelling errors before they were published in the newspaper.

I threw myself into editing his spelling errors but soon discovered the investor's dyslexia was contagious dan ti becmea imposisbel to

writ aneting corectlee. I dont kno wy tis happen, butt I can fx it. I right clicked and now my errors were fixed. I immediately

killed my dumb dad