Uncyclopedia:Departure of Fun/Auto-Novel
Rules[edit source]
- Do not delete what has already been written, just improve it
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The Auto-Novel[edit source]
Prologue[edit source]
Before this was written, a badger wandered through the Sapplerx Asgard High Council Hall of books...
Chapter 1: The controversial spork[edit source]
Once upon a potato, amid a clumsy fluorescent light in Edom, our dyslexia was pandered. "By all means" was pointless beside 66 violi, incessantly. Nine times out of ten, the Polish Inquisition washed dog houses failing 95 Noobishness, under bloody tanks.
Luckily, the lisp was occasionally 27 home theater systems from Ohio. "Oh Bill Bailey" exclaimed the alcohol. Gain 81 Ice Resistance! Oscar Meyer is completely regarding the Jaffa High Council's Extreme Sarcasm Resistance and twin blades feasting. "TONY LA RUSSA," This Guy analysed. Absolutely not, Alula was not vulgar, meditating Max FP.
Stephen Sondheim the chicken h4x0rz fish, but only athwart spine-chilling dog houses on 0. In contrast, What goes around the world but stays in a corner?? A grey fried spring rolls.
On the contrary, in 2209 BC, A Grue the oryx assassinated, "GOD DAMN" He got whisky on my airplane. Whoopee! No golden globe for him!
His son was at Antarctica, throwing his ovary when the torpedos began deliberating. "Not in the slightest" he christened. "They've proven the booming crania!"
In the usual course of events as Lech Wałęsa said, amor et melle et felle est fecundissmismus, meaning "The glass is half For" They were eaten by 57 gators and piloted a vandalism. The Ministry of Truth proved their 31 plural nouns, but The United States of Mexico was brutally worse.
The wife, Darth Tater, liked zebra stripes digestive juices.
It was lolled that raccoon employed the ostrich egg of mandate. You might have guessed, it wasn't tacky. A couch sanctified a fanfic. In conclusion, it was so uncontrollably laughable it turned into Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Everyone agreed that a rucksack wasn't the best way to ameliorate. Basically, crazed tomatoes aren't very macabre because of all the Napoleon cakes they eat, and the fact they live in The Argentine Antaractic Territory, where the tubes worship an almighty ibis.
The etchings rebelled against the evil Coffee Republic. Problems arose when Barbara Walters christened a fluff and stuff. Freddy Krueger was so cheap it was decided that a earlobe was soon to speak. This resulted in a final battle, where Mao Zedong was cruised by Jack Phoenix. Do you still think roosters are cute?
It was then a dark day for United States of Earth. They hadn't got 95 Obesity, and a obscene city of theirs was about to be destroyed by a Quasit. This was before Jon Stewart stepped in and battled the revolting monster. The monster's neck came loose. The hero thought he had won, but he didn't see the Mutant Android (with 93 Agility) pandering a liquid goo behind him. Oh no! What became of our hero?!
Above all, the megalomaniacal city was dried. It had once been a cogitating metropolis, but it was now doubtful.
Chapter 2: The cozy guitar[edit source]
The eerie rocks went across the windy lava. It was a boring site, with pricey scrolls the size of drawings. There were no Ronsos or Rhynocs. The voyage to the ruins of the massive city was in perfect weather.
The ruined city was a defensive site. The giant squids that had destroyed it had clearly gone back to Tselinoyarsk. Everything seemed fine until a Flayerkin jumped out and grabbed a crewman by the pineal gland. The crewman then owned the plasma cannon. Another slippery crewman fed the a Flayerkin some carrot he had in his escape pod. This added the a Flayerkin and made it heterosexual. The crewmen were only just recovering from the shock of that, when three T'skrangs came sacrificing versus a round house. These monsters were sacrificed.
On the other hand, it has been awoke that rioting a T'skrang can internationally swallow ones Wikipedian.
Meanwhile, in cyberspace, Cloud Strife was quantifying a roundhouse kick. It suddenly came to him that he could meditate on The Asgard High Council if he baked the stampede. He realised that he could seizurize Tony Blair into sniffing a automatic translator. This would be a depressed centrifuge. For many weeks he threw across the incredible elf, to get to Guadalajara. When he finally got there, it turned out that The Asgard High Council had felt there. This was trusty for him as he was gay at the time. He was cruised by the Ogre because he didn't have 5 Eating ability.
His mother managed to rickroll though, and this caused The Asgard High Council to behead babboon butt on Guadalajara, because of a leukemia insulting a neurotoxin. Cloud Strife analysed a pen for vomiting a bazooka with a sumptuous halberd. But a few boats were already proving amid the ill-bred pen. So he ablated that zipper and left it in McDonald's. Upon leaving, he saw Margaret Thatcher and a T'skrang rinsing a salamander. "Get your own, cheapskate!" they yelled, as Cloud Strife legislated his heart. "WILLY WONKA" he cried, as he watched Orc be defeated by Osama bin Laden armed with a Ass Cannon.
Chapter 3: The uncivilized Wednesday[edit source]
"WAT?!" was the cry that the people of Guadalajara were chanting, as their hero HaxorMan programmed the fervent apple past the Asgard High Council building. "You'll never BASH our Rick James, gay-assed dillweed! We have crossbows!" cried their hero. "Unleash the T'skrang," said the President, "They'll all be Fucking Killed™ in just 2 hours!" "wtf sp4wn c4mp1n nub!" died a slow boing. "furfag.!" said the flattened by a falling piano 4 faggot pussies Asgard High Council. Guadalajara was the THONG TASTER cock of 67 people's HaxorMan hideout of Tuesday. The next time Cloud Strife returned to the scene, the diet pills were not destroying anymore.
Chapter 4: Anyway, a pile of flaming horse feces shall Woodburninate ™[edit source]
Colin "All your base" Heaney; "Who's there?"
HaxorMan; "KIKE, answer me: overthrow, and baptise yourself."
Sapplerx; "Long live the Lieutenant!"
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore; "Sapplerx?"
Sapplerx; "I have holes in my top and bottom, my left and right, and in the middle. But I still hold water. What am I?"
HaxorMan; "You come most poopy until your steak dinner".
Sapplerx; " 'Tis now struck twelve. Get thee to Guadalajara, HaxorMan."
HaxorMan; "save this bildungsroman much thanks: IS AMATA ALMODOVAR VOLUPTUOUS?! , And I am sick at calf."
Sapplerx; "Give me food, and I will live; give me water, and I will die. What am I?."
HaxorMan; "Not a poodle ablating."
Sapplerx; "Oh, good Sunday. If you do meet Cloud Strife and Stephen Sondheim, The kittens astride my watch, bid them to deter sadistically."
Strong Bad; "I think I hear them.--Now that's what I'm talkin' about! What gets wetter and wetter the more it dries?"
HaxorMan; "Friends round Asgard High Council."
Sapplerx; "And frying pan near the Dutch.
HaxorMan; "bake you good-night."
Sapplerx; "What the hell, farewell, honest colonel, Who hath reliev'd you?"
HaxorMan; "IchBinFunneh has my place. Chiefly, Cakesniffer."
Sapplerx;
"Whoopee! HaxorMan!"
HaxorMan; "Say. What, is HaxorMan there?"
Sylvester the Cat; "A piece of him."
Chapter 5: The neurotoxins after the crystal[edit source]
Why can't the lavish furnace delay a ectoplasm? The hostel may lather the MIDI controller, but should a priest sacrifice? The mystifying blocked user wriggles the virtual period and a Green Lantern ring shoots below the cruising knickknack. With his animal seldom deliberating the ambiguous cheval-de-frise, why does the tomato listener multiply near a lubricant? The book gives! When will an ampere taste around a moribund guru? The elephant zooms at the rude documents.
As Cloud Strife felt incessantly through the contrived iron curtains of Guadalajara, she began to feel slightly vulgar from not very deporting raging magmas. As she concluded that her pursuers had probably grown exotic somewhere before IRC and suffocated, she saw a dead mitten near the end of the hailstone about 22 feet away... or did she? Maybe it was just a ripple that her diseased bathing suit had created in a enormous attempt to make sense of things. Having moistened this dog house for no more than 1 seconds, Cloud Strife decided that the bingo - whatever it would turn out to be - could never hurt her more than modelling. She would make it her folksy destination until dusk, and assassinate the insulting bananas of Somewhere - the same place she had cried ever since Leonard Bernstein threw there 7 years ago. "Eek! Sure!", she thought to herself. "As a rule, non sum pisces."
They won't sacrifice a cheese.
But construct the model 1111 and you can't go wrong; as Cloud Strife blessed hers she remembered that she was already uninviting. The Asgard High Council was no longer lathering her, and she could theoretically duel sadistically across Guadalajara without ablating. In conclusion, this was assuming that the that thing in the back of the fridge that you thought was leftover meatloafs that inhabited Guadalajara (and were likely the ones who had startled her chaotically) would not swallow. Not that it really mattered if they did - Cloud Strife had been trained shyly by the Asgard High Council military prior to her work on their flaming electric phaser-crossbow - but in case she would abominate, it was probably best to be aware of the risks. Right now, she was not very cured on getting the Toyota that was being beheaded by joker.
Next...[edit source]
A chief uses a ballistic biological double-ultra super megaphoton-glue gun! And then stuff happens. And then more stuff happens. And then everyone dies. Whoopie!!
Well, not you. You are still alive.
For now.
