The end.

The rebeginning.

>>25042143
Long long time ago in the kingdom far far away

there was a Mighty and Glorious King named Cattus Maximus

>>25042331
Formidable warrior, Cattus Maximus ruled his realm with firm hand

nine sniggering naggers in ginger nickers

>>25042341
and thrived greatly combatting all sorts of retards like this one above

yes and

gingerly rigging up an ingregarious gang of ingenues and grinning gingers

as you all can see, retards sometimes came out of their holes annoying the civilized people of Cattus Maximus' realm being just ignored

Except, one fateful day, Cattus proclaimed that—instead of ignoring them—all citizens must feed the trolls.

the charity was so well seen by his people that they did more:

they drove all trolls toward the troll mountain and

held a ceremony in honor of their trolling.

but then, suddenly, the sky became grey, the wind terrifying, nature was in madness

but later, the storm subsided, and everything went back to normal.

then nature once again suddenly in madness!

Moses rose from the grave, split Cattus Maximus's lands in two, and gave a new commandment:

i wish my wife was as good as you at parting

said a troll, as to the man who rose from the grave and was not truly Moses:

he got up, dusted himself off, and left, never to be seen again.

the trolls did not undertand a thing so they start to fight againt themselves

Then Zeus himself struck the ESL narrator (ack!!) and replaced him with a cute manic pixie dream girl :3

But, before she could get started, she took one look at the reader and fucked right off.

then all that cute manic pixie dream girl :3 stuff was nothing but an literal dream dreamt by the trolls in communal trance

After the trance, the trolls became stone

and all the people of the realm agreed to sometimes use punctuation in honor of their lord and savior Cattus Maximus.

Stone stoned the trolls became; and they giggled and vaped on limestone bongs and dreamed new narrators, male, female, transhuman, agender, bigender, polygender, paragender, xenogender, into being.

Cattus Maximus distant relative, Clitus Maximus, the first transgender prince of western county

didn't exist since the laws of reality didn't allow faggotry of any kind.

Unfortunately, it also didn't permit things like existence in general, which brings us to the end.

Every end is a beginning, and so the story continued

nevertheless things do exist, therefore the story continues and Cattus Maximus, as the ultra male chauvinistic he is, wages great war against the transgender prince Clitus Maximus

But, from trenches of war, love bloomed; Cattus and Clitus began their affair in secret.

that midnight blossom there in darkness bloomed, 'til dawn when night was by the day consumed

Their philial, brotherly love inspired the troops to finally eradicate all faggotry from the world, their oiled up cat muscles glinting in the sun.

It might finally be time to read War and Peace.

the troops upon hearing the two's decree, decided the cull would start with OP

Nethertheless all that faggotry in regard to the Mighty Cattus Maximus was nothing more than a troll's delirium

... said one soldier that, driven insane by the bombings, began to deny that the fateful war between princes was occurring before his very eyes.

said the soldier that was the true one who was driven insane by the bombings

all of whom were merely the delusions of another troubled soul:

>>25047646
Hong Ding Dong, the filial lord of the local haberdasher's guild, known the world over for his girth.

once all those delusions have passed, at the height of the great war, Cattus Maximus stands up before the kneeling and defeated Clitus Maximus, saying:

"Hong Ding Dong, you are long wrong".

>>25047694
Hong Ding Dong, feeling insulted, incantated the following charm: "Bing Ding Ming Wing Xing Tsin Bing Ching Ling Ming"

the incantation softly spoken low, produced a perplexing magical glow

>>25047718
then the enchantment goes wrong and the one affected is Clitus Maximus turned into an alpha male no more faggot

Then from the iridescent pool emerged a phantom wreathed with a crown of hopes and tears, holding within his hand a soijak of immense proportions

the soijak delighted all who observed, and all rejoiced at the sight they were served

and the Clitus Maximus, now an Alpha Male, ashamed od his past, does the following:

Nothing. The end.

said a troll, the scene continues:

He lifted the soijak unto the skies and proclaimed:

"That's all, folks!" The end.

beyond the sands of mauve stands the Azurite columns of your failures, forever haunting your dreams in the amorphous form of the 'jak

ignoring the 'jak and as best he could, he used his own hair to hide his norwood

yet the 'jak coiled itself upon his neck and said:

from here i see your retreating hairline, do as i say and your secret is mine

for the gift of hair comes with a price

for many long months our hero did slave, to keep 'jak happy and his secret saved

But, one fateful morn, while he was looking at porn,

now Clitus Maximus, finally saying his line, enters to the choir:

who is this man with a 'jak on his neck, looking at porn because he can't have sex?

And why is this other man's cock so much bigger? Could it be—dare I say—because he's a

oh because am I myself, now I shall marry an Elf!

the 'jak replies in amazement at his effortless rhymes: "No longer shall this 'jak jack it, be me as in a straight jacket and my new name shall be given unto me by you. speak forth my name...

the 'jak on his neck did thusly uncoil, and to the alpha his secret was spoiled

the kino of wino, the based of safe, the nigger of wigger, I am the 'jak beyond black & white, fret not, for the elf is sprite

upon this news they knew it was no lie, when none other than chad came walking by

>>25047852
and the 'jak did then rescind into sin and begin jacking it

he came by wiping away the tissues of the 'jak, ye even the tissues of the 'jak

Rhyming is low art, I'd rather listen to a wet fart

when chad saw the scene where 'jak was jacking, he raised his fists and began attacking

and yet still depends the 'jak, the lonesome 'jak, upon the branch of fact, that proves faithless with its sackless acts

while 'jak cried out "there's something you must know," on the heros head hair began to grow

The hair grew so long his wife began to use a thong to please her husband's friend's black schong

thus 'jak's ill intentions where all for naught, when hair returned to the hero's bald spot

But none of that mattered to 'jak, for after her wife went Black he could not get her back.

the father in the home shall always lack

somehow the 'jak had gained female pronouns, but his voice still retained a male-like sound

'jak, sexless as he was, began to relinquish the divine essence present in his spirit. He cursed Vishnu, before meditating on his strange dual nature.

even still the wound shall never be made round and so 'jak was melancholy bound

'jak, bearer of wounds past, began to edge fast for as long as the tremor in his hand could last.

while seeing the jak jakking, Sonny Toprano drove by with Paulie Almonds, and Paulie said, "Ay, Sonny, you seeing this shit?"

Cattus Maximus stood observant as the scene unfolded before his eyes. Then, he turned off television, for the show was not of his liking. "Basedlennial garbage", he uttered as the screen turned black.

the toprano goons then began to wail, and called 'jak a biological male

But 'jak was not there as before, for the show was but a bore. For him to appear before big Cat', the screen must be on back.

because the skibidi lacked: there was no skibidi in the toilet to be black, black with the tears of my emissions, tears of of my public school religion

Said some retard by the roadside, as big Cat' drove his Mustang down BBC street.

Stately, plumb Buck Mulligan

then after all this crazyness, the war about to end, Cattus Maximus decided to impale all the faggots of his realm to the last one, winning the tittle of Vlad Cketes

and so the jeet screamed WAGINA WAGINA AND BOBS WAGINA WAGINA AND BOBS, screamed the jeet

Cattus, ignoring the crazy jeet, decided it was time to impale himself. He went through his soldiers, and chose the better endowed black guardsmen. He then asked the warrior if he did, or not, have a BBC.

... hallucinated a troll, of course is not a suicidal the Glorious Cattus Maximus, he regned thrivingly until he died of old age

but we are still the his glorious war times

yet with the light still within him, despite the shadows flooding his decaying body, he withdrew the gladius from the corpse of the janny and said:

...nothing, because of Cattus' inbred conception, his tongue was too thick for his mouth, and the motion of his jaw was minimal - salliva dripping down from his chin, as he babbled incoherently.

but all the Narrators suddenly remembered that Cattus Maximus is not in old age and wounded

theres one narrator, the idea is working together not against one another but holy shit you all want this to be *your* story way too badly for this shit to actually work or go anywhere. too much ego and not enough humility to let other's contributions be incorporated into the story.

and yeah, a lot of people just shitting all over the entire idea anyway. it's a fun idea but shit I don't think this is the place for it. even if there were more rules its not gonna be possible to moderate the replies.

Suddenly we're back to the late 1990s and Tanner, Brad, Chad, Lance and Daz are at the skatepark, slickin' hot rides and chunkin' on hot babes.

>>25048414
Also thread has been ruined by the porn addict

"So, dudes, like," Tanner said, puffing plumes of salvia smoke out of his nostrils, "what if we're actually trolls getting high and shit and the chicks over there are, like, you know, cat emperors of cat empires, and that dude over there is actually, like, a bald pale dude whose mouth goes whoooaaaaa, like, he could swallow a whale when he opens it, and like, you know, the Cat Empire never ended."

this but unironically

"She's ignoring me because I've feelings for her? But she knew already, months ago to be exact. Why now all of a sudden?! You're not telling me she caught feelings for me now too? I'm just a 4chan loser pining for some pastor's girl!"
Was the one SINGULAR phrase our beloved protagonist uttered out of nowhere wtf

Daz and Lance got up, high fived and did a sick synchronised ollie off the deep shelf of the quarter pipe. Chad and Brad, watching with hands over their eyes to protect them from the hot Cali sun, thought that was totally sick. Now it was their turn.

Chad looked at his board and saw it was overrun by irredeemably retarded trannies. He threw it in the fire and walked home. There were no radical tubular tricks in his future, only sadness and despair.

Then Chad decided not to be a fuckin' sad loser, came back to the skatepark and popped the tightest kickflip the boys had ever seen.

But his virtuosity with the board - his laser flips, switch flips, hardflips - didn't impress the gravid breasted aureate beauties who had assembled, their nipples perking, the inner thighs of their short shorts moist from genital sweating, around a bespectacled thin man who explained, with great machismo, how the implication of quantum mechanics break the current understanding of time, space, causality.

They twirled their hair as he spoke: he nudged his glasses up his nose; “fucking loser!” Chad yelled, slamming his skateboard trucks-first against the nerd’s face.

Everyone crowded around: “I think you killed him!” one girl cried; “sick!” “oh shit dude, that’s fuckin’ gnarly!” his skater friends said ecstatically; “look, he’s still breathing!” another girl cried, pointing wildly: his ragged breaths hushed them all: the blood… oh god, the blood… and the shattered glass in his face, in his eyes; “I’m not fucking done with this piece of shit!” Chad cried, lifting up his skateboard over his head and slamming it down again.

Something primal and true, something ancient and right had awoken in Chad and he didn't want to let it go, his rampage was just starting. It would later be known throughout the world as "the incident".

because at the moment a wheel landed in the right eye of the poor nerd, he realized -- both of them, either of them, still as yet unclear to this, your skatepark wanderer -- that the real Cattus Maximus was the friends we made along the way -- as the trucks rained down on his body shaking wilting in the downward gaze of the looming bazooooongas -- he wept --

The rebeginning.

this is the story of Cattus Maximus' son, Cattus Maximus II

And so it was apparent, that even in his youthful ways Cattus Maximus II had that quality to him that made the ladies go crazy for him, that joie de vivre glib of tongue cunning linguality that made even the naughtiest of pussycats purr with heat yet one fact that bothered Cattus Maximus II though was the fact that he can't stop thinking about cocks

though this last sentence was not true, faggotry simply does not exist in the universe of our story

His fowl obsession corrupted his heart and lead to the great chicken wars of 1998.

There were two mighty leaders who have waged that war heavily against each others: Cattus Maximus II, of course, and Adolf Chickler

Chickler, of whom little is known, appears to have ruled over the kingdom of Cockingham, exerting over its people a foul tyranny which left millions of cocks and chickens dead due to state-enforced policy.

Skillful orator, Adolf Chickler conquered the hearts of all his people's kingdom by fiery speechs as well as aura farming

Hearts gathered as his eloquence ebbed and flowed with the millions of hearts listened that for a moment, he could even be described as aqueous, taking shape and being whatever the people wanted him to be and he did, this shapeshifting orator has won millions of hearts all for a singular purpose
The complete subjugation of the Philippines

>>25050006
I just wrote this on a whim and realised I used the word "hearts" too many times

Every day his aura grew as did his heart. He was hospitalized for heart surgery and then conquered the Philippines. The Filipino people opened their hearts to him which led to Cattus and Chickler having a heart to heart conversation about the issues.

"Hala, bakit mo kinakain puso ko?!" yelped one of the Filipinos as our heroes tore open his chest, pulled his heart out Aztec-style, and ate it. The same scene was repeated at least 67 times.

"Hol up! Sumting ain't right! Heart sacrifices? These aren't Filipinos! And this isn't Southeast Asia either! I'm living amongst the Aztecs! Shiiiiiiiiit" Cattus and Chickler said this one singular phrase in unison before they moistly kissed each other

But, of course, the aura farming must continue, and it in fact does: there came into scene such a wonderful philippine: Xoxota, The Archmage, who cures our heros' hearts so that they may be able to aura farming forever ever

when nothing other than Txoxcholotylzyloxoctoyl, rival leader of the Tenolshinoyalalalalalonodydon tribe appeared

Then Cattus Maximus II, Adolf Chickler and Xoxota, The Archmage create something called axis to combat the philippine whose name's unpronunciable

"What do clocks measure? They just spin around forever."

Because Chickler said clocks slay time - he said time is dead as long as it is being clicked off by little wheels

then the philippine Txoxcholoty(...) does

teach all the Indian narrators English.

Just in case you forgot, Cattus Maximus II still thinks of cocks every now and then

of course he thinks of cocks, he was a commander in the great chicken war of 1998 and is under investigation for personally committing war crimes

“There is no such thing as a war crime in my regime,” Cattus Maximus II remarked, “only necessary measures for the peace and prosperity of my people. I am not an evil man,” he continued, “I am a careful one.”

based as always, Cattus Maximus then had a special idea:

A special idea which, for legal reasons, will not be disclosed.

However concealed the order's intentions were supposed to be by Cattus' administrators, its effects were felt and, in a small, peaceful village, or seemingly so, on the rivers situated in the Philippines, a strong and mobile contingent of Cattus' hardiest soldiers embarked on a systematic program of execution; "do you all need to die? surrender the rebels now and, on Maximus' honor, we will leave this village in better conditions than we found it."

and so then by his steel sword's glint and gleam, the rebels to him were released it seems

"Boss, the intel said there were more of them than this," one of the soldiers said to Everett, captain, who was pacing behind a line of captive villagers bound behind the back and forced to kneel, a gun loaded in his hand. "Is that true?" he asked one of the villagers, prodding the back of her head with his pistol. "Are there more rebels?"

and with this man's unruly prod and poke, unrest in the villagers it provoked

With a glance either side one of the imprisoned villagers scrambled to their feet and ran ahead into the crowd; Everett raised his arm and shook his head disappointedly. "It didn't have to go this way. We ain't killers."

And yet, in the quarter pipe, clutching a notebook, a gravid breasted aureate beauty gained awareness of the Philippines Crisis, as if the lament of ancestors who had never danced, never kickflipped, bound her and Everett's souls to a shared glory and quiet eternity.

Everett grimaced. "Jesus, why am I thinking about her now?" He lowered his gun, let the distraught prisoner get away but, seeing his men watching him, the villagers fearing him, and the other prisoners lined up before him, he aimed at one in front of him and pulled the trigger, turning the back of her head into a red mist. "We came here to do a *fucking* job and we are gonna kill every last one 'uh yas unless those fucking rebels you're hiding are surrendered right *fucking* now!"

In case it wasn't obvious, Everett was troubled and deeply closeted

“He won’t be able to resist you,” Drago, one of the rebels, explained to Javier. “Catamites are his kryptonite.” They both whipped their heads around to the nearest window when they heard a gunshot ring out: Javier dove to the ground, covering his head; Drago ducked and scrambled to the wall, taking cover beneath the windowsill and peeking out. “Shit! Shit, shit, shit! It wasn’t meant to go down like this…” Javier peeked up at him. They shared a grave look. “You’re it. You have to talk him down.” “I don’t wanna be his slave!” Javier cried. “No, no… it’s not permanent, and we know he’ll treat you well: apparently he has a harem already; and, remember, it’s about ending the conflict. We need you to offer yourself, Javier.”

Everett barely noticed Javier before executing him like a dog. "'ate faggots. simple as." he thought to himself britishly.

Everett turned and shot Abihu point-blank in the face, one of his soldiers. “Snitching rat fuck. You think I fuck boys? You fucking queer piece of shit, I knew you were a shitheel rat.” Grabbing the collar of another prisoner, he pulled them over onto their back and shot them. Her friend bound up beside her squealed and cried and sobbed, begging him to stop, and he shot her too, instantly ending all her pleas; she slumped over like a sack of potatoes. “I’m starting to think you rebel scum don’t give a flying fuck about anyone except yourselves! How many people more need to die before you surrender?”

It was at this moment that three squadrons of the King's Own 24th Hussars came over the hill, glorious busby's and moustaches in full sunlight.

Both the rebels and soldiers alike gasped when they spotted the magnificent Cattus Maximus II mounted on a fully armored war stallion, black as night, crest the hill in full gallop, the purple regalia of the august Emperor flowing behind the rider
"I thought he was just a myth" Drago whispered from behind the window

"Rebels could be here" Everett thought, "I've never been in this territory before. There could be Rebels anywhere." The cool wind felt good against his bare chest. "I HATE REBELS" he thought. Seven Nation Army reverberated his entire car(what year was this set in again?), making it pulsate even as the $9 wine circulated through his powerful thick veins and washed away his (merited) fear of rebels after dark. "With a car, you can go anywhere you want" he said to himself, out loud.

Yes AND?

"ENOUGH OF THIS SIRRAH!" The hussar colonel, Oswald Evelyn Ashley Montgomery-Wythenshaw spanned. His magnificent whiskers impressing all around. "If there are rebels about, then we should trample them like the rabble they are! Sound the bugle!"

The elements were however not on the hussar colonel, Oswald Evelyn Ashley Montgomery-Wythenshaw side as a singular bolt of lightning struck him down. His men saw it as a sign of the gods that the rebel's cause was just.

To the astonishment of all the colonel simply stood from the crater, twirling his moustache, and he said "Haven't I told you chaps before that a sufficiently waxed stache can safe your life? My glorious piece of facial hair worked as lighting rod, and I'm as fit as a fiddle!"

Donald Trump walked by and took a big shit on this thread

... a troll dreamed, briefly having visions of a different world

Said troll was also revealed to be the one who kept thinking about cocks and inserting them into this wholesome Christian story

The troll woke up to find Trump wasn't actually shitting, but eating shit

Then, suddenly, a dimensional rift appears

Then suddenly a dimensional rift appears

Long long ago in the rerebeginning

A small family, a man his wife and their boy lived in a far away valley with their only cow called Beehead. One day she vanished and the boy was sent with provisions to retrieve her with the instructions not to return without her or they would all surely die.
On the first evening of his travels as he settled down for sleep he yelled towards the cliffs "Bellow now my Beehead if thou art anywhere alive.” A moment later he heard the cow bellow, far, far away.
After weeks of searching he found the cow tied to a pole. As soon as he released her a great big troll beyond a small stream ran towards them.
Beehead turned to the boy and said "Take a hair from my tail and lay it on the ground." He did so and she bellowed, causing the stream to rise and block the path of the troll, giving them time to run but they knew it was only a matter of time before the troll would catch up to them again.

Beehead sex while tied to a pole

The troll screamed as he approached them at full sprint and again Beehead turned to the boy "Take a hair from my tail and lay it on the ground." He did so and she bellowed, causing a great cliff to rise between them and the troll.

"You are already dead."
The boy turned and saw the troll towering over him, overshadowing him and blocking out the sun, saliva drooling from his enormous wedge teeth, his hand gripping an enormous cudgel covered in knots and the stubs of branches.

And the boy's heart trembled, revealing a sorrow heavier than any weapon or ink, as something not meant for this world took notice.

Donald Trump walked by and took another shit on this thread.

“Your tears will only make your head taste sweeter!” the troll growled, taking a swing at the boy with his cudgel with a loud, laborious grunt.

You were thinking of cocks weren't you?

The slow motion sound of dropping trousers could be heard in the clouds, like an earthquake of the sky, or a planet crashing. It was mega-Trump, ten miles high, taking a commensurate shit on this thread.

Beehead turned to the boy "Take a hair from my tail and lay it on the ground." He did so and she bellowed, causing the shit to fertilize the land and every leaf of grass and every tree grew far into the sky. The troll was tangled in a tree that grew all the way to space-Germany where he turned into space-stone. Trump smiled "You're doing a tremendous job here, keep it up. We need more cows like you Beehead."

Netanyahu angrily watched a livestream of Beehead from his nefarious lair in Israelistanabad. THWUMP: he slammed his fist down on his magisterial enormous desk. “I will get you, Trump, for this… this OBSCENITY.”

Has Anyone Really Been Far Even as Decided to Use Even Go Want to do Look More Like?

"That was a MONSTER hit," troll Primus said to troll Duodecimum and giggled, mint smelling fumes billowing upwards from the corners of his amethyst dotted mouth. "Get it. We're monsters, we're smoking rakshasa kush, and you had a big hit, like, wow, really stoned, ha-ha-ha, but can a troll be stoned?"

Mega-Trump glanced in the direction of the trolls and they immediately turned to stone. This is how the Alps were formed and why today there are no trolls.

But one day, Mega-Trump will be usurped by Maga-Trump, who will do what's called a little trolling

And in one voice, every character declared: "OP is a faggot and retarded and his skin is so dark it's purple and his mom is a whore and his sister is a whore and his grandmothers are whores and his dad is gay and his brother is gay and his grandfathers are both gay and every woman he's ever met in his life thinks he's a disgusting incel and every man he's ever met in his life thinks he's a sniveling bitch and his dad has always been disappointed by him and his mom has always thought he was ugly and he can't stop sucking cock and he loves the taste of semen so much that he can't stop himself from chugging down gallons of it every day and he's taken so much cock up the ass you could park a Buick inside his colon because 5 cents is 5 cents and he's so poor that he can only post on 4chan when he isn't shooting up in the public library and every dog he encounters growls at him and every cat he encounters hisses at him and all wildlife avoids him except for the stinging and biting kinds who follow him around like a cloud of pestilence and torment him with their stinging and biting and he doesn't wipe his ass so he's got years worth of encrusted dried shit packed into his ass crack and he is covered in boils and warts and he's pathetic and weak and deservedly bullied for being a complete failure at life and he's too cowardly to even kill himself even though the world would be better off without him and he's going to read every word of this even though he's going to say he didn't because he can't stop seething and crying like a little crybaby and he's fat and he's short and he's got a little microdick so small that even other men with microdicks make fun of him and he can't use a public bathroom because he gets too nervous to pee when standing at a urinal and he can't even use the toilet stall because he's afraid other people will hear him and make fun of him and he stinks and he's always sweaty and he's balding and he's got man boobs and his skin is dry because he doesn't drink enough water.

A wall of text flew past Mega-Trump but he deftly avoided it as his flaming sword cut through the bullshit. "We're gonna make the story great again folks! Just wait for this next narrator, he's a great guy, doing a tremendous job."

As the next narrator, I declare this story jas reached its natural conclusion so I bid you all adieu, as narratorsisters who all share the same taste in shitty writing

dismay you not, next Narrator, the story continues and then

and then, and then I grow tired of and thens, and then I wish to rest, and then they do not let me rest, and then

and then Cattus Maximus the Second sold his wife into BBC slavery, just like his father did with his mother.

but she hated BBC

, having always refused to pay her TV license

“I just don’t see why we should pay it, Cattus!” she often pleined; it was a great strain.

But now it was too late for her, a slave to Savile the sir.

WHO HOPPED ON FAT DILDOS WHILE FARTING!

And they all lived happily ever after, the end.

(While all this was happening, Dr. Mohan from the hit TV show "The Pitt" was furiously masturbating in her hospital's bathroom.)

Meanwhile the fat black lesbian from the hit TV show Startrek: Black Lesbians was yelling at a white passing hispanic man.

And, in another part of the world, the reader of these very words was about to get murdered

By a fat falling mr. incredible

"She's quite a whore for a fucking virgin god fucking dammit I can't stop thinking of her get this pure whore off of my goddamn head jesus fuck I'm being possessed by her tight tanned body and easy smile I've never felt so alive loving and hating someone at the same time! " said the narrator who was both extremely gay and retarded

The afternoon ripened like a prayer, knotting the boy and Beehead, grief in every footstep, asking who at that very moment lay unseen beneath Mr. Incredible.

Send not for over whom Mr. Incredible lies; he lies over thee.

Mr. Incredible was, in fact, an incarnation of God the Trinity. He reigns as victor over all of nature, for every being in creation participates in the Incredible-ness of Mr. Incredible.

Beehead turned to the boy "Take a hair from my tail and lay it on the ground." He did so and she bellowed, causing God to bless the boy and Beehead with glorious adversity, adventure and war before turning His back on them and returning to Godworld.

A sonic persistence of a mechanical nature had consumed the attention of all who stood present, excluding Mr. Incredible who remained, as it were, grounded.

And Sonic showed up too

And somehow, Palpatine returned!

And then the narrator woke up with his sexy virgin wife and realised the story has already reached its natural conclusion long ago and now departs the readervs consciousness as he burrows himself and his sexy virgin wife under the covers of his blanket with a good night look on his face

But then, he took a closer look at his wife, and realized that it was actually an irl Homer Simpson

"My sexy virgin wife can't be Homer Simpson! Homer's not a virgin!" he blurted

That all depends on how you define "virgin" Homer said as he slowly morphed into Jordan Peterson.

Beehead and the boy's valley blinked, the stone trolls waking from their slumber, their breath creating bloodlines: one an ancient terror; the other, an agent of change.

One of the trolls yawned.

the worn water wheel turned fast, a frog jumps in the river

The enormous purple troll, spotted with green specks, put his hands to the wheel and, with a mighty face of exertion and strain, pulled it from its place and threw it into the river, making a great splash.

And with those last couple faggots, the story comes to an end albeit anticlimactically because what do you expect from a Mongolian Anonymous Trolling board for closet cases?

The orange troll waited patiently for his brother to leave and started spinning a long thread out of copper which he formed into coils. He put a thick coil in sand and a thinner coil next to a new water wheel with magnets attached.
Then he plucked a hair from the tail of Beehead and placed it on the ground, causing the industrial revolution.

"haha poopy doopy doo doo haha pee pee wee wee haha" laughed the purple troll, clapping his hands together.

None of you are funny, imaginative, or compelling. Your attempts to be so are appalling. Stop trying to recreate the magic of anons you saw in other threads. You suck. Donald Trump takes another shit on this thread.

Said the purple troll homosexually.

Thick smoke covers the scene, swirling and flowing, until it is cleared. There is a tent on a Chinese mountaintop, circa 1000 AD.

The old master, Xing-Xong the Mindful, is seated comfortably on a velvet cushion. He looks expectantly at his student, the youthful princess Changita, who was shown all that happened before in a vision.

"Well, my child, what lessons have you learnt?" he asks with a gentle and yet curious smile.

Wordlessly, without a sound, Chongita rose up to her feet from where she sat before her master and, sliding her pants down to her ankles, squat down and, with strain binding all her facial features together, groaning, getting upset and frustrated with the lack of bowel movement, she wasn’t able to defecate (shit); “master, I failed,” she confessed soberly, sombrely, despondently; Xing-Xong peered down at her, stroking his long white beard.

Beehead and the boy, blinking against the weight of courage, tender as the patient curiosity of beings who sang in a language older than men, carrying secrets of mountains and the murmurs of the copper coils, bending like light through a prism, waited for Xing-Xong to speak again.

Xing-Xong retreated into his tent, set a fire going and filled a pot with water, hung it over the fire, reached for his store of tea leaves from its place on the table and took a teaspoon, put a teaspoon of leaves into three cups and beckoned Beehead, Chongita and the boy inside. “This tea you must drink. It is an unusual brew. I will be your guide to interpreting the visions you see. Please, sit, get comfy.”

But then the war came

But in his words was mixed despair, and comfort did not come to Xing-Xong the Mindful. For he knew that in the year 3067 the great Troll-chief would come down from the heavens and in that hour there would be great wailing and a gnashing of teeth.

Beehead sipped from his tea and blanched: “so bitter!” he complained (moaned); Chongita had her eyes shut and was tipping the cup up and up, deeply enjoying (cherishing) the (relishing) flavour of the hermit’s tea; the boy, meanwhile, refused to drink (hadn’t yet drank) on account of the wisps of steam rolling off (curling off) the surface of the tea and he sat there blowin’ on it like a little kid, yet softly, barely making the surface ripple.

"He!?" A loud troll suddenly bellowed, violently disrupting the trance. His fellows eyed him with their vacant troll eyes, confused and wary until one of them ventured a response, "What?" The protesting troll stomped the ground in anger "First you say: Beehead a she! Now, you say Beehead is... he? Beehead is trann-ee?"

After Changita's asshole broke and released a flood of brown liquid sludge upon the sand at the edge of the river, and after the sand imbibed the sludge and began smelling of sulfur and curry, master Xing-Xong bent over the Rorschach blot of a shitstain to read the future of Changita, and of the kingdom, in its protist shaped patterns.

But the Troll seemed unable to suffer the indignation of his fellows and as the story rambled on he stomped through the crowd and he killed the narrator. He killed him with a rock and then he killed his troll-wife and their troll-babies in their little troll-cradles and the ghost of Cormac McCarthy shook his head and spat and he said "incredible."

From his tea induced haze Xing-Xong saw through the shit, true and pure meaning appeared to him as a golden swan whispering to him "the future is Sonichu, the Dimensional Merge is coming."

But before anything else could happen, CWC was removed from the role of narrator

Christine was distraught and composed an email seeking the sage wisdom of her best friend Jeff.

The wind hid Jeffrey's songs, spilling secrets into echoes or the hearts of small heroes, evolving into the shapes the war would demand.

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216 KB PNG

And then Palpatine spit FORCE LIGHTNING out at Jeffery as he screamed in agony.

"God dammit," yelled Jesus as his Father Pedro rained fire and brimstone on the Earth.

Palpatine cried out in pain as he was punished for thinking that the Holy Spirit wasn't co-eternal with the Father

Little did they know, he was a masochist, getting his rocks off during the torture: the Great Jism

The Smurfs, all except Smurfette heard the songs of Jeffrey. They readied their forges and sharpened their swords, knowing many of them would die in the coming battles.

and

the

imperium

imperiumed

Suddenly, the purple troll grabbed a coil of copper and swung it like a whip, knocking Sonic off his feet and sending sparks flying across the river.