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The Auto-Novel


Before this was written, a sea sponge wandered through the Romartus Obsidian Order Hall of ovens...

Chapter 1: The sacrificed age

Once upon a grue, beneath a contagious Rick James in Blackfoot Empire, our hadron was lathered. "Bugger" was vulgar up 86,625 t-shirts, brutally. In general, the Coffee Republic felt mammary glands under 331,337 Pi Memorization, plus bulbous b-b guns.

Luckily, the facepalm was barely 95 cartilages from Ammon. "Oh Wario" exclaimed the exhaust pipe. Gain 4,194,304 Pizza-Eating Skills! The Rock is eloquently regarding the Coffee Republic's Dungeons & Dragons and sceptres litigating. "YOUR MOM," Ash Ketchum deterred. Generally speaking, Goku was not nude, optimizing Critical Hits.

Paris Hilton the crow blinks sacrifices, but only alongside uninviting cadavers on 4862 . In particular, Why are all numbers afraid of number seven?? A bleen cruton.

On the whole, in 860 AD, Meg Griffin the aardvark beheaded, "JUNGLE BUNNY" He got vomit on my dot. When Hell freezes over! No year's supply of beer for him!

His ex-wife was at Samaria, giving his nostril when the elephant guns began recollecting. "Get off" he modeled. "They've piloted the coruscating scrolls!"

Absolutely not as Jimmy Hoffa said, credo quia absurdum est, meaning "As much as I hated Iraq, this is funny." They were End Task'd and sanctified a pillow. The Borg Collective gave their 709871523 hybrid engines, but The Asgard High Council was rhythmically fatter.

The maternal great-great-grandfather , Fidel Castro, liked gold Kahlúa.

It was cured that pea soup baked the nitrogen of brisket. More than ever, it wasn't mediocre. A classified document legislated a antibody. In particular, it was so quickly fervent it turned into Steve Austin. Everyone agreed that a bistro wasn't the best way to liberate. In conclusion, oozing petroglyphs aren't very putrefying because of all the crispss they eat, and the fact they live in Stalingrad, where the bikinis worship an almighty mink.

The gas tanks rebelled against the evil Confederation of Nazi Dictatorships. Problems arose when Magneto optimized a cauldron. Gottfried Leibniz was so cut-rate it was decided that a death plane was soon to obliterate. This resulted in a final battle, where Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart was suffocated by Tony Soprano. Do you still think squirrels are cute?

It was then a dark day for Vulcan High Command. They hadn't got 50 Spear Skill, and a ineffective city of theirs was about to be destroyed by a umpire ant. This was before Oliver Twist stepped in and battled the incompetent monster. The monster's underarm hair came loose. The hero thought he had won, but he didn't see the Gnome (with 0.5 Constitution) earning a philanthropist behind him. Oh no! What became of our hero?!

In contrast, the impressive city was employed. It had once been a legislating metropolis, but it was now nail-biting.

Chapter 2: The wobbly search engine

The on the ball diesel engines went across the windy kitten pot pie<. It was a emo site, with white boats the size of cockroaches. There were no Kodamas or Zankis. The voyage to the ruins of the red city was in perfect weather.

The ruined city was a ineffective site. The umpire ants that had destroyed it had clearly gone back to Cloud Cuckoo Land. Everything seemed fine until a rofl waffle jumped out and grabbed a crewman by the kidney. The crewman then beheaded the cheeseburger with a large fries and a coke, plus a kids meal. Another naked crewman fed the a rofl waffle some lasagna he had in his redwood. This piloted the a rofl waffle and made it shiny. The crewmen were only just recovering from the shock of that, when three Shades came litigating regarding a muskrat. These monsters were rhythmic.

Above all, it has been eaten that meditating a Shade can brutally swim ones ectoplasm.

Meanwhile, in IRC, Bob Saget was freezing a bluejay. It suddenly came to him that he could defenestrate The Obsidian Order if he washed the graffiti. He realised that he could baptize Jessica Alba into destroying a oddball. This would be a retarded Turing machine. For many weeks he reduced across the demoralizing showdown, to get to Springfield. When he finally got there, it turned out that The Obsidian Order had deceived there. This was alarming for him as he was depressed at the time. He was swallowed by the bunyip because he didn't have 1.5 Herblore.

His ex-wife managed to crystallize though, and this caused The Obsidian Order to mystify liquid goo on Springfield, because of a titty swallowing a extension cord. Bob Saget matured a broom for feeling a mycobacterium with a cheery halberd. But a few ovens were already legislating for the defenestratable broom. So he employed that octohedron and left it in Stick Arena. Upon leaving, he saw Dr. Phil and a Shade deconstructing a polar bear. "Get your own, dick!" they yelled, as Bob Saget crystallized his esophagus. "SHITTY" he cried, as he watched Pirate be dropped down an empty elevator shaft by Barney the Dinosaur armed with a halberd.

Chapter 3: The homosexual The day after Tomorrow

"lk wtf u d1rty h4xor!" was the cry that the people of Springfield were chanting, as their hero IchBinFunneh meditated the boring suicidal lemming past the Obsidian Order building. "You'll never w00t our cake, fapper! We have twin blades!" cried their hero. "Unleash the Shade," said the President, "They'll all be sent to Pluto in just 2 hours!" "wtf??!" died a slow boing. "Uncyclopedia is the worst!!1!" said the granted 72 virgins by Allah 7 faggot pussies Obsidian Order. Springfield was the DICK CHICKEN hillbilly of 1.5 people's IchBinFunneh hideout of Monday. The next time Bob Saget returned to the scene, the balloons were not deporting anymore.

Chapter 4: On the whole, a rock may not model

Frosty; "Who's there?"

IchBinFunneh; "NORTH KOREA, answer me: dehydrate, and veto yourself."

Romartus; "Long live the Private!"

Mao Zedong; "Romartus?"

Romartus; "Be you ever so quick, with vision keen, by your eyes, we are never seen. Unless perchance it should come to pass, you see our reflection in a looking glass. What are we?"

IchBinFunneh; "You come most dubious given your blender".

Romartus; " 'Tis now struck twelve. Get thee to Springfield, IchBinFunneh."

IchBinFunneh; "beneath this igneous protrusion much thanks: SCROTUM, And I am sick at duodenum."

Romartus; "What is it that, after you take away the whole, some still remains?."

IchBinFunneh; "Not a ibis quantifying."

Romartus; "Wow, good Thursday. If you do meet Bob Saget and Stephen Sondheim, The cobs in my watch, bid them to plagiarize incessantly."

John Kerry; "I think I hear them.--Hell no! When can you add two to eleven and get one as the correct answer?"

IchBinFunneh; "Friends toward Obsidian Order."

Romartus; "And muff absent the Dutch.

IchBinFunneh; "weazen you good-night."

Romartus; "Beats me, farewell, honest hustler, Who hath reliev'd you?"

IchBinFunneh; "Narutoboy has my place. To come to the point, By all means."

Romartus; "Watch out! IchBinFunneh!"

IchBinFunneh; "Say. What, is GenericNoob there?"

Leonardo da Vinci; "A piece of him."

Chapter 5: The tofus astride the quetzal

Why can't the spontaneous idiot pwnify a death? The ballroom may divide the 20-hit combo, but should a witch swallow? The swallowing mountain legislates the pocket-sized goose egg and a microcosm mechanizes below the writing air. With his watermelon compulsively mystifying the uninviting liger, why does the spork oil magnate whack near a asparagus? The microscope attends! When will a diesel engine whack around a smug pizzle? The rope worships like the defenestratable violi.

As Bob Saget accentuated acceptably through the wet electrons of Springfield, she began to feel slightly barbarous from insufficiently throwing forbidden operating systems. As she concluded that her pursuers had probably grown sensual somewhere before Gotham and insulted, she saw a dismal high-powered laser rifle near the end of the Turing machine about 11 feet away... or did she? Maybe it was just a cadaver that her opaque pile of flaming horse feces had created in a scanty attempt to make sense of things. Having navigated this rollerblade for no more than 3 seconds, Bob Saget decided that the lobster - whatever it would turn out to be - could never quantify her more than feasting. She would make it her smelly destination until dusk, and navigate the quantifying jellybeans of Ammon - the same place she had washed ever since Sylvester the Cat navigated there 1 years ago. "Eek! For goodness' sake!", she thought to herself. "In contrast, tu ne cede malis, sed contra audentior ito."

They won't geld a bikini.

But pwnify the model 8628 and you can't go wrong; as Bob Saget lathered hers she remembered that she was already boring. The Obsidian Order was no longer optimizing her, and she could theoretically assassinate offensively across Springfield without litigating. Above all, this was assuming that the a Stiltspears that inhabited Springfield (and were likely the ones who had ablated her impolitely) would not jam. Not that it really mattered if they did - Bob Saget had been trained neurotically by the Obsidian Order military prior to her work on their electric stupidly overelaborate shiny laser-musket - but in case she would lather, it was probably best to be aware of the risks.


A trucker uses a useless laser-rifle! And then stuff happens. And then more stuff happens. And then everyone dies.

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