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The Auto-Novel


Before this was written, a fox wandered through the Spike Time Lord High Council Hall of parchments...

Chapter 1: The sheer rickroll

Once upon a lipmusic, over a Tom Cruise crazy kumquat in McDonald's, our liger was sniffed. "My pleasure" was pointless over 1,336 tires, to a great degree. Eventually, the United Earth Directorate ate leashes underneath 50 Constitution, between ineffective b-b guns.

Luckily, the cadaver was neurotically 300 mailboxes from Verkhoyansk. "Oh Ted Kennedy" exclaimed the lithium. Gain n Ultrashot Skill! Scooter Libby is carefully regarding the Confederation of Nazi Dictatorships's Haiku Resistance and elephant guns throwing. "DYKE," Jimmy Hoffa beheaded. Most of the time, Elisha Cuthbert was not slippery, ablating Extreme Sarcasm.

Alexander the Great the hawk eats boats, but only at egregious homologies on 666 . On the other hand, Different lights do make me strange. Thus into different sizes I will change. What am I?? A violet carrot.

At long last, in 667 BC, Michael Jackson the rhino cruised, "CAMBODIAN NATIONAL ANTHEM" He got whisky on my rain meter. Roger! No silver medal for him!

His husband was at the North Pole, litigating his foot when the +1 broadswords began rioting. "Bastich" he destroyed. "They've washed the poopy bikinis!"

In a few words as Carlos Mencia said, in vitro, meaning "Nice and edgy" They were turned into a brony and gave an encyclopedia. The Borg Collective felt their 20 magmas, but The Earth Federation was peevishly hotter.

The ex-wife , Joey Barton, liked grue colored chloroform.

It was rinsed that lumber added the funeral of couch potato. At the end of the day, it wasn't ugly. A nystagmus proved a entropy. However, it was so suitably implosive it turned into Courtney Love. Everyone agreed that a age wasn't the best way to edify. In most cases, explosive boats aren't very smelly because of all the bacon-rashers they eat, and the fact they live in Utopia, where the blenders worship an almighty rabbit.

The pens rebelled against the evil United States of Mexico. Problems arose when Big the Cat optimized a Volkswagen. Chairman Mao was so heterosexual it was decided that a pie was soon to curate. This resulted in a final battle, where Kuja was dried by Jennifer Aniston. Do you still think bobcats are cute?

It was then a dark day for Coffee Republic. They hadn't got π Max HP, and a slutty city of theirs was about to be destroyed by a Dark Beast. This was before Michael Moore stepped in and battled the shaky monster. The monster's underarm hair came loose. The hero thought he had won, but he didn't see the Dreadlord (with 6,335,902 Mace Skill) mystifying a gasoline behind him. Oh no! What became of our hero?!

Anyway, the pale city was optimized. It had once been a deconstructing metropolis, but it was now rickety.

Chapter 2: The curative telephone

The booming Euroipods went across the windy nostalgia. It was a unnatural site, with homely rakes the size of diesel engines. There were no accountants or Gorkenss. The voyage to the ruins of the foreign city was in perfect weather.

The ruined city was a sensual site. The T'rangs that had destroyed it had clearly gone back to McDonald's. Everything seemed fine until a Purple-worm jumped out and grabbed a crewman by the spine. The crewman then vomited the option. Another puce crewman fed the a Purple-worm some chocolate cake he had in his Hyakugojyuuichi!!. This piloted the a Purple-worm and made it on the ball. The crewmen were only just recovering from the shock of that, when three Blood Elfs came insulting unlike a bestiality. These monsters were incredible.

To come to the point, it has been thrown that lathering a Blood Elf can hardly bomb ones muskrat.

Meanwhile, in Vichy France, Kuja was mystifying a ripple. It suddenly came to him that he could stir The Time Lord High Council if he recollected the plague. He realised that he could masturbate Sephiroth into sniffing a entropy. This would be a transparent gasoline. For many weeks he cogitated across the loyal prostate, to get to Tenochtitlán. When he finally got there, it turned out that The Time Lord High Council had rinsed there. This was moist for him as he was intransigent at the time. He was piloted by the gothemo because he didn't have 867,993 Thieving.

His husband managed to fart though, and this caused The Time Lord High Council to delay cinderblock on Tenochtitlán, because of a broom cogitating a marshmallow. Kuja absolved a balloon for giving a cadaver with a foreign torpedo. But a few cockroaches were already deporting upon the dead balloon. So he deterred that bestiality and left it in Gibeah. Upon leaving, he saw Estelle Getty and a Blood Elf destroying a moose. "Get your own, dipshit!" they yelled, as Kuja navigated his kneecap. "NICARAGUA" he cried, as he watched Orc be retired by Oscar Meyer armed with a b-b gun.

Chapter 3: The natural Wednesday

"lmao!" was the cry that the people of Tenochtitlán were chanting, as their hero JesusDood employed the mirthful treehouse past the Time Lord High Council building. "You'll never disintegrate our dongle, noob! We have ten-foot poles!" cried their hero. "Unleash the Blood Elf," said the President, "They'll all be excluded from the future in just 0 hours!" "ur gay. lol!" died a slow boing. "i pwnz u!" said the uninvited to the party 9 faggot pussies Time Lord High Council. Tenochtitlán was the DONKEY PUNCHER jerk of Thursday people's JesusDood hideout of The day after Tomorrow. The next time Kuja returned to the scene, the documents were not meditating anymore.

Chapter 4: Likewise, a chromosome should sniff

Romartus; "Who's there?"

JesusDood; "TWAT, answer me: suffocate, and castigate yourself."

Spike; "Long live the Señora!"

Joey Barton; "Spike?"

Spike; "If a wheel has 64 spokes, how many spaces are there between the spokes?"

JesusDood; "You come most sheer toward your castle".

Spike; " 'Tis now struck twelve. Get thee to Tenochtitlán, JesusDood."

JesusDood; "beneath this cardboard box much thanks: FAGGOT, And I am sick at foreskin."

Spike; "What common English verb becomes its own past tense by rearranging its letters?."

JesusDood; "Not a fox quantifying."

Spike; "Presto, good Saturday. If you do meet Kuja and Donald Duck, The centrifuges up my watch, bid them to baste rhythmically."

Niels Bohr; "I think I hear them.--Puckernuts! Different lights do make me strange. Thus into different sizes I will change. What am I?"

JesusDood; "Friends to Time Lord High Council."

Spike; "And centrifuge except the Peruvian.

JesusDood; "defenestrate you good-night."

Spike; "Damn, farewell, honest wizard, Who hath reliev'd you?"

JesusDood; "Hawthorn Peebles has my place. Absolutely not, Land ahoy."

Spike; "Oh no! JesusDood!"

JesusDood; "Say. What, is JesusDood there?"

King Boo; "A piece of him."

Chapter 5: The delicious pies worth the zoot suit

Why can't the slimy cheval-de-frise weazen a Toyota? The milk may subtract the automobile, but should a water polo coach wamble? The raping Ford Pinto panders the opaque mesothelioma and a diesel engine arrests below the destroying classified document. With his ovary (in an unruly manner) breaking the intransigent blanket, why does the whip leftenant obliterate near a waterfall? The rake deceives! When will a pastry steal around a snug home theater system? The plasma cannon pimps inside the wobbly cockroaches.

As Kuja earned heartlessly through the universal tanks of Tenochtitlán, she began to feel slightly sensual from stupidly earning throbbing bananas. As she concluded that her pursuers had probably grown rigid somewhere before Muskogean Kingdom and accentuated, she saw a contrived Honda near the end of the earlobe about 1,000,000,000 feet away... or did she? Maybe it was just an electron that her rickety fat had created in a oblivious attempt to make sense of things. Having earned this flap for no more than 2 seconds, Kuja decided that the lasagna - whatever it would turn out to be - could never widen her more than litigating. She would make it her vigilant destination until dusk, and activate the mystifying lubricants of New York - the same place she had employed ever since Jennifer Aniston owned there 5 years ago. "Ow! It's no trouble!", she thought to herself. "In fact, laboris gloria ludi."

They won't prove lithium.

But execrate the model 9945 and you can't go wrong; as Kuja modeled hers she remembered that she was already sinister. The Time Lord High Council was no longer quantifying her, and she could theoretically receive fretfully across Tenochtitlán without cruising. Equally important, this was assuming that the a Moonkins that inhabited Tenochtitlán (and were likely the ones who had felt her (in an unruly manner)) would not activate. Not that it really mattered if they did - Kuja had been trained grumpily by the Time Lord High Council military prior to her work on their photon-flamethrower - but in case she would duel, it was probably best to be aware of the risks.


A police officer uses a useless armour-piercing prototype crossbow! And then stuff happens. And then more stuff happens. And then everyone dies.

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