Uncyclopedia:Departure of Fun/Auto-Novel

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The Auto-Novel

Prologue

Before this was written, a duck wandered through the Pup Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire Hall of t-shirts...

Chapter 1: The homosexual temple

Once upon a Pontiac, times a implosive stripper in Fallujah, our tooth was lathered. "Hello" was common alongside 11 reindeer, frostily. For the most part, the Obsidian Order cured igneous protrusions minus 331,337 Healing, next lavish night sticks.

Luckily, the adjective was rapidly -0 lawn mowers from Outer Heaven. "Oh Goku" exclaimed the rain meter. Gain 1,000,000,000 Speed! Jessica Alba is uncontrollably regarding the Temporal Integrity Commission's Pi Memorization and jellybeans legislating. "DICKWAD," Jennifer Aniston sniffed. For instance, Tony Blair was not pyrrhic, sniffing Spec. Defense.

Garfield the turkey<option> <option>turtle arrives glycerins, but only times purple lithiums on 1987 . As such, Hands she has but does not hold, teeth she has but does not bite, feet she has but they are cold, eyes she has but without sight. Who is she?? A coral goulash.

At the same time, in 3255 BC, Amy Rose the crow destroyed, "PORCUPINE'S BALLS" He got cider on my extension cord. Land ahoy! No bronze medal for him!

His cousin was at Southern State of Cree, maturing his nose when the towells began deconstructing. "You're welcome" he meditated. "They've legislated the mundane jellybeans!"

Absolutely not as Pervez Musharraf said, corruptio optimi pessima, meaning "Perhaps the funniest article I have read up to date" They were painted black and blessed a cake. The United Citizen Federation crystallized their 1,000,000 hotels, but The Spanish Inquisition was grumpily greater.

The ex-wife , Bill Clinton, liked clear ketchup.

It was programmed that quetzal lolled the espresso of quickloader. To cut a long story short, it wasn't pyrrhic. A excrement feasted a garbage bin. To cut a long story short, it was so ruthlessly clumsy it turned into Rupert Murdoch. Everyone agreed that a virus wasn't the best way to ameliorate. Basically, medieval diesel engines aren't very macabre because of all the lemons they eat, and the fact they live in The Land of Cheese-Eating Surrender-Monkeys, where the violoncelli worship an almighty dog.

The salad forks rebelled against the evil Spanish Inquisition. Problems arose when Tom Cruise programmed a codswallop. Conan was so yellow-bellied it was decided that a kitten piccata was soon to pasteurize. This resulted in a final battle, where Avril Lavigne was thrown by Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Do you still think ocelots are cute?

It was then a dark day for Banana Republic. They hadn't got OVER 9000!!!!!!!! Pooping, and a pale city of theirs was about to be destroyed by a giant squid. This was before Oscar Meyer stepped in and battled the unbalanced monster. The monster's rectum came loose. The hero thought he had won, but he didn't see the Crone (with 13,131,313,131,313,131,313,131,313 Intelligence) deceiving a dominatrix behind him. Oh no! What became of our hero?!

However, the morbid city was earned. It had once been a piloting metropolis, but it was now rapturous.

Chapter 2: The beloved stapler

The slimy mailboxes went across the windy adverb. It was a malevolent site, with yellow virii the size of cats. There were no Moonkins or Mashataans. The voyage to the ruins of the dazzling city was in perfect weather.

The ruined city was a equivalent site. The Simulacrums that had destroyed it had clearly gone back to The Argentine Antaractic Territory. Everything seemed fine until an Octorok jumped out and grabbed a crewman by the rectum. The crewman then quantified the button. Another shimmery crewman fed the an Octorok some cake he had in his rickroll. This broke the an Octorok and made it senseless. The crewmen were only just recovering from the shock of that, when three Moggs came cogitating around a marshmallow. These monsters were folksy.

In a few words, it has been litigated that quantifying a Mogg can cryptically add ones riffraff.

Meanwhile, in Hollywood, Pythagoras was breaking a octohedron. It suddenly came to him that he could fuck The Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire if he optimized the dog. He realised that he could hack, slash, & burn Randy Savage into navigating a clavicle. This would be a fake lithium. For many weeks he sniffed across the hateful waterfall, to get to Stalingrad. When he finally got there, it turned out that The Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire had suffocated there. This was round for him as he was clumsy at the time. He was optimized by the deadly piranha poodle because he didn't have 58 Luck.

His groom managed to golf though, and this caused The Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire to seizure lens on Stalingrad, because of a lumber curing a frying pan. Pythagoras lolled a keyboard for cogitating a Pontiac with a sexy Nuns. But a few papers were already pandering excluding the medieval keyboard. So he litigated that buffalo and left it in Mount Everest. Upon leaving, he saw Pervez Musharraf and a Mogg washing a crocodile. "Get your own, douchehorse!" they yelled, as Pythagoras bamboozled his lung. "TWO-INCH PENIS" he cried, as he watched Eurg be BENSONATED by Shakespeare armed with a trebuchet.

Chapter 3: The grisly Thursday

"lol u suk!" was the cry that the people of Stalingrad were chanting, as their hero Dawn773 vomited the fanatical Oldsmobile past the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire building. "You'll never duel our glycerin, ass fucker! We have twin blades!" cried their hero. "Unleash the Mogg," said the President, "They'll all be BALEETED in just 2 hours!" "i din't edit that page an even if i did it's better neway so u suck!!" died a slow boing. "haxor!11!" said the catapulted away 1 faggot pussies Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire. Stalingrad was the AMERICA ONLINE prick of 69 people's Dawn773 hideout of Thursday. The next time Pythagoras returned to the scene, the homologies were not lathering anymore.

Chapter 4: By and large, an etching can't break

Xamralco; "Who's there?"

Dawn773; "FUCK, answer me: receive, and incarcerate yourself."

Pup; "Long live the Mademoiselle!"

Ted Kennedy; "Pup?"

Pup; "What can run but never walks, has a mouth but never talks, has a head but never weeps, has a bed but never sleeps?"

Dawn773; "You come most substandard past your monoclonal antibody".

Pup; " 'Tis now struck twelve. Get thee to Stalingrad, Dawn773."

Dawn773; "failing this icicle much thanks: BULLSHIT, And I am sick at calf."

Pup; "You use a knife to slice my head and weep beside me when I am dead. What am I?."

Dawn773; "Not a alligator vomiting."

Pup; "Sure, good Saturday. If you do meet Pythagoras and Jerry Fallwell, The lubricants following my watch, bid them to pass brutally."

Megatron; "I think I hear them.--Back biter! What is it the more you take, the more you leave behind?"

Dawn773; "Friends aside Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire."

Pup; "And pizzle opposite the Lithuanian.

Dawn773; "steal you good-night."

Pup; "Woopiedoo, farewell, honest mayor, Who hath reliev'd you?"

Dawn773; "IchBinFunneh has my place. To sum up, Uh-oh."


Pup; "When all is said and done! Dawn773!"

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

Colin Powell; "A piece of him."

Chapter 5: The crania up the rocket

Why can't the round anvil tear a cow? The pile of flaming horse feces may reward the custard, but should a umpire vitiate? The deceiving Holy Martian Empire approves the demoralizing bestiality and a cartilage curses below the proving bevel. With his Green Lantern ring insufficiently earning the belittling monkey, why does the Taahgaarxian cabbie pasteurize near a Soliton radar? The cadaver stretches! When will a pile of flaming horse feces orate around a forbidden Doppelgänger? The chessboard applauds including the alarming tubes.

As Pythagoras assassinated severely through the despicable delicious pies of Stalingrad, she began to feel slightly white from haphazardly deporting rhyming homologies. As she concluded that her pursuers had probably grown nude somewhere before your ass and absolved, she saw a mediocre salad fork near the end of the fountain about ∞.5 feet away... or did she? Maybe it was just a leash that her vigilant council of national reconstruction had created in a retarded attempt to make sense of things. Having feasted this library for no more than 6 seconds, Pythagoras decided that the communist - whatever it would turn out to be - could never revolt her more than employing. She would make it her cozy destination until dusk, and sniff the blessing gas tanks of Yoshi's Island - the same place she had rinsed ever since Jon Stewart feasted there 9 years ago. "Argh! Bam!", she thought to herself. "In a few words, sic gorgiamus allos subjectatos nunc."

They won't fling a diesel engine.

But burn the model 5254 and you can't go wrong; as Pythagoras litigated hers she remembered that she was already putrefying. The Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire was no longer destroying her, and she could theoretically freeze seldom across Stalingrad without drying. On the contrary, this was assuming that the a Darkingss that inhabited Stalingrad (and were likely the ones who had rewarded her colloquially) would not analyze. Not that it really mattered if they did - Pythagoras had been trained crazily by the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire military prior to her work on their electric biological shiny ninja-pistol - but in case she would ejaculate, it was probably best to be aware of the risks.

Next...

A chief uses a rocket-propelled secret pirate-crossbow! And then stuff happens. And then more stuff happens. And then everyone dies.


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