Uncyclopedia:Departure of Fun/Auto-Novel

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==Rules==
 
==Rules==

Revision as of 08:29, April 26, 2011

Want a new Auto-Novel? Click Here!

Rules

  • Do not delete what has already been written, just improve it
  • Add as much as you want
  • Make what you want gramatically correct. For example, each sentence must have one noun and one verb.
  • Make sure you use mostly templates, not words.
  • Use only templates from Category:Mad Libs templates

The Auto-Novel

Prologue

Before this was written, a wombat wandered through the Simsilikesims Tok'ra High Council Hall of dog houses...

Chapter 1: The sanguine newspaper

Once upon a bum, despite a forbidden turkey sandwich in IRC, our dead flounder was meditated. "Take care" was Pastafarian next 10,000,000 cockroaches, barely. Chiefly, the United States of Earth deterred magmas athwart 709871523 Hunting, circa demoralizing tanks.

Luckily, the glucose was hatefully 60 nuclear reactors from Austria-Hungary. "Oh This Guy" exclaimed the fiasco. Gain Q and 1/2 Plot Advancement! Fatty Arbuckle is 100% regarding the Alliance's Spear Skill and amrams programing. "I RAPE WALRUSES!," Paul Hindemith ASPLODEd. At the end of the day, Garfield was not oozing, lathering Resistance to AAAAAAAAA!.

Albert Einstein the mandrill litigates bags of cement, but only about mundane organs on 1885 . To sum up, What goes around the world but stays in a corner?? A black burger.

More than ever, in 1467 BC, Michael Jackson the wombat bamboozled, "NAZI" He got semen on my melanoma. Hell's bells! No year's supply of beer for him!

His husband was at San Francisco, giving his kidney when the leashes began sanctifying. "Hello" he deceived. "They've given the boring nunchucks!"

For the most part as Dracula said, flectere si nequeo superos, Achaeronta movebo, meaning "I like it, but I don't know why." They were cancelled and employed cartilage. The Ministry of Truth rinsed their 4,484,683 gas tanks, but The Dalek Empire was puzzlingly younger.

The mother , Mickey Mouse, liked burgundy ketchup.

It was destroyed that chromosome threw the teabag of chiffon. Nine times out of ten, it wasn't dubious. A respiratory system eaten a communist. As you might expect, it was so apathetically abnormal it turned into Peter Griffin. Everyone agreed that a memo wasn't the best way to excruciate. Furthermore, oozing t-shirts aren't very furry because of all the cakes they eat, and the fact they live in Teotihuacán, where the fish worship an almighty goose.

The bananas rebelled against the evil Systems Commonwealth. Problems arose when Mr. Freeze cruised a Tanner Thompson. AAA was so unsophisticated it was decided that a crystal was soon to steal. This resulted in a final battle, where Gordon Brown was suffocated by Bob Saget. Do you still think one of You have two cowss are cute?

It was then a dark day for Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire. They hadn't got 15 Max FP, and a furry city of theirs was about to be destroyed by a Wight. This was before Donald Duck stepped in and battled the lazy monster. The monster's pinky came loose. The hero thought he had won, but he didn't see the Levannath (with 4,194,304 Grue-Slaying) rinsing a belt behind him. Oh no! What became of our hero?!

Subsequently, the snug city was sacrificed. It had once been a bamboozling metropolis, but it was now colossal.

Chapter 2: The opaque bear

The no-frills houseplants went across the windy evil secret Canadian mind-control device. It was a nude site, with cozy etchings the size of salad forks. There were no Crab Guys or Fragments. The voyage to the ruins of the heterosexual city was in perfect weather.

The ruined city was a sexy site. The Gnosiss that had destroyed it had clearly gone back to Hong Kong. Everything seemed fine until a Tartutic jumped out and grabbed a crewman by the heart. The crewman then rioted the read-only memory. Another pricey crewman fed the a Tartutic some egg he had in his Kodak. This expelled the a Tartutic and made it emo. The crewmen were only just recovering from the shock of that, when three dongrels came cruising betwixt a egg. These monsters were uncivilized.

In a word, it has been optimized that lathering a dongrel can thoroughly pander ones lubricant.

Meanwhile, in Gotham, Ian Paisley was litigating a feng shui. It suddenly came to him that he could mystify The Tok'ra High Council if he owned the flatulence. He realised that he could reduce Carlos Mencia into quantifying a turkey sandwich. This would be a dark queen. For many weeks he cured across the barbarous riffraff, to get to Montreal. When he finally got there, it turned out that The Tok'ra High Council had sniffed there. This was hairy for him as he was poopy at the time. He was cured by the Koosalagoopagoop because he didn't have 5,592,985 Stalking.

His mother managed to give though, and this caused The Tok'ra High Council to edify microscope on Montreal, because of a lemon lathering a dominatrix. Ian Paisley gave a lisp for proving a REM with a supercalifragilisticexpialidocious tofu. But a few options were already sanctifying opposite the Nobel prize-winning lisp. So he absorbed that thumbtack and left it in an unknown place. Upon leaving, he saw Jennifer Aniston and a dongrel legislating a grizzly bear. "Get your own, chump!" they yelled, as Ian Paisley baptized his foreskin. "[expletive deleted]" he cried, as he watched Taahgaarxian be crucified by Carlos Mencia armed with a elephant gun.

Chapter 3: The fake Friday

"lk wtf u d1rty h4xor!" was the cry that the people of Montreal were chanting, as their hero Nintendoroulez feasted the impressive ax murderer past the Tok'ra High Council building. "You'll never defenestrate our quetzal, n00b! We have diet pills!" cried their hero. "Unleash the dongrel," said the President, "They'll all be electric chair'd in just 6 hours!" "SAGE!" died a slow boing. "lawlz!" said the obliterated 7 faggot pussies Tok'ra High Council. Montreal was the MILF dingleberry of 8,646,213,413 people's Nintendoroulez hideout of The day after Tomorrow. The next time Ian Paisley returned to the scene, the cobs were not swallowing anymore.

Chapter 4: In general, a skull might hack & slash

Romartus; "Who's there?"

Nintendoroulez; "SUCK A BIG DICK, answer me: incinerate, and fumble yourself."

Simsilikesims; "Long live the Doctor!"

Jennifer Aniston; "Simsilikesims?"

Simsilikesims; "What's black and white and red all over?"

Nintendoroulez; "You come most contagious times your diet coke".

Simsilikesims; " 'Tis now struck twelve. Get thee to Montreal, Nintendoroulez."

Nintendoroulez; "than this Juffo-Wup much thanks: BITCH, And I am sick at heel."

Simsilikesims; "What has a bottom at the top?."

Nintendoroulez; "Not a rhino deconstructing."

Simsilikesims; "Presto, good The day after Tomorrow. If you do meet Ian Paisley and Cher, The DNA sequences into my watch, bid them to wash eloquently."

Stephen Colbert; "I think I hear them.--It's no trouble! You use a knife to slice my head and weep beside me when I am dead. What am I?"

Nintendoroulez; "Friends at Tok'ra High Council."

Simsilikesims; "And peach next the Korean.

Nintendoroulez; "accentuate you good-night."

Simsilikesims; "Certainly, farewell, honest swordsman, Who hath reliev'd you?"

Nintendoroulez; "HarryPotterFan has my place. Then again, Wow."


Simsilikesims; "Demon dogs! Nintendoroulez!"

Nintendoroulez; "Say. What, is Dawn773 there?"

Leonardo da Vinci; "A piece of him."

Chapter 5: The rocks barring the idiot

Why can't the peculiar anchovies write a belt? The businessman may explode the steak dinner, but should a clerk overthrow? The suffocating Nintendo bamboozles the unreliable feces and a anvil deceives below the curing communist. With his jeans rhythmically bamboozling the uncivilized band, why does the lighting welder pwnify near a event? The hobgoblin optimizes! When will a ricer detect around a baffling blow-up doll? The galleon agrees save the melodramatic iron curtains.

As Ian Paisley deliberated blaringly through the sanguine electrons of Montreal, she began to feel slightly natural from (in an unimpressed manner) deliberating rude telephones. As she concluded that her pursuers had probably grown rotted somewhere before Stick Arena and gave, she saw a buffoon-like waterfall near the end of the tooth about 10 feet away... or did she? Maybe it was just an igneous protrusion that her bloody elephant had created in a remarkable attempt to make sense of things. Having cured this earlobe for no more than 1 seconds, Ian Paisley decided that the mitten - whatever it would turn out to be - could never disintegrate her more than feeling. She would make it her jocular destination until dusk, and adhere the lolling tanks of Middle Earth - the same place she had vomited ever since Vin Diesel vomited there 3 years ago. "Ungh! Now, now!", she thought to herself. "On the other hand, omne vivum ex ovo."

They won't crankle a tank.

But neuter the model 4942 and you can't go wrong; as Ian Paisley rewarded hers she remembered that she was already boorish. The Tok'ra High Council was no longer optimizing her, and she could theoretically curate rabidly across Montreal without suffocating. However, this was assuming that the an Ogiers that inhabited Montreal (and were likely the ones who had feasted her abrasively) would not subvocalise. Not that it really mattered if they did - Ian Paisley had been trained coarsely by the Tok'ra High Council military prior to her work on their electric shiny pirate-crossbow that shoots grenades - but in case she would w00t, it was probably best to be aware of the risks.

Next...

A priest uses a paralyzing armour-piercing prototype photon-gun! And then stuff happens. And then more stuff happens. And then everyone dies.


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