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|"No" (standard:other, 465 words)|
|Author: Port Lataine||Added: Jan 20 2002||Views/Reads: 2743/1||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|Chapter Two of The World of Harold and His Lovely Wife (unfinished). A book about nothing and the problems with everything in the world.|
The poor little thing... "We should probably give the dead chipmunk a proper burial. Don't you think so?" "No." "Should we just leave it hear to rot and decay?" "No." "Well, I think that we should burn the thing and eat his ashes. You know what I mean?" "Know." "Good, we finally agree." "..." "Are you dead?" "No." "Oh good. YOU SCARED ME?" "No." "You're right. I was lying." And out of no where a choir starts to sign... What a poor little chipmunk / What a poor little thing / We are saddened by the lost / So we've all gathered to sing Bless the chipmunk, god bless / Pray he stays out of hell / Bless the chipmunk, god bless / Pray that heaven is where he dwells/ Let's take the time to miss him / The poor, poor rodent / Let's gather around the dead thing / And then do Mr... All of a sudden, an army of Jalapeno Marauders, recently involved in some local guerrilla warfare, blasted its way through the trees. With their machine gun firing a flow of fast moving metallic objects, all of the members of the choir were killed in a bloody mess. Thank god. The Jalapeno Marauders saved the day yet again! "The Jalapeno marauders saved the day yet again. Just like the narrator said." "No." "Why? Are you dead?" "..." "Hey! You are dead!" "..." "Damn, nobody ever wants to play with me." Yes, it was true. The man who said no and nothing else (sometimes the homonym "know") was accidentally killed, or so I was told, by the Jalapeno Marauders. What a shame! Well, now that the man stood alone, I shall call him stupid because all he did was stare at the bodies, the dead bodies. Molesting them with his mind. "Hey, wait a second! I'm not molesting them with my mind! I'm not molesting them at all. You baffoon!" Hey, shut up! I am the narrator. If I want to say that you are the Queen of England, I can say that, and you can't stop me. So I'm going to say that you were molesting the bodies in some way! "Who the hell do you think you are. Narrator! That's a load of bull, if you ask me." I am sticking my tongue out at you, you piece of rancid cheese! "That's it! I've had enough! I'm going to kill you, you freak!" Hello! I'm the knew narrator. You see, those two idiots went on to kill each other. This means that there was no more narrator. Thus, I am taking the place of the old narrator. But since I am new here and have nothing to talk about, I feel that it is a good time to end the chapter. Tweet
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