Uncyclopedia:Departure of Fun/Auto-Novel

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The Auto-Novel

Prologue

Before this was written, a camel wandered through the Alula Alliance Hall of crania...

Chapter 1: The hairless guitar

Once upon a codpiece, behind a macabre asparagus in Moscow, our featherbed was ablated. "Don't mention it" was hopeless below 59 jellybeans, timidly. In particular, the Spanish Inquisition suffocated dog houses inside 41 Fletching, onto magma needles.

Luckily, the cartridge was neurotically 65 parchments from Phuket. "Oh Immanuel Kant" exclaimed the anvil. Gain 84 Eurg Resistance! WohMi is crazily regarding the Confederation of Nazi Dictatorships's Smithing and diet pills curing. "FLAMING ASS BADGER," Queen Elizabeth II accentuated. For instance, The Rock was not ambiguous, vomiting Grue-Slaying.

You the spider steals needles, but only save cartilage DNA sequences on 1987. On the whole, Why won't my parakeet eat my diarrhea?? A medium ochre salami.

After a long wait, in 1871 AD, Your Mom the beetle absolved, "FUCK YOU" He got diarrhea on my zipper. Hell no! No silver star for him!

His grandfather was at Inuit Kingdom, swallowing his right buttock when the halberds began litigating. "Close, but no cigar" he destroyed. "They've meandered the despicable air conditioners!"

Likewise as Vin Diesel said, alis volat propriis, meaning "It's funny because it's true." They were trapped without food or drink and moccasinified a league. The Ministry of Truth rioted their 38 centrifuges, but The People's Sovereign Union of Planets was habitually younger.

The nephew, Stephen Colbert, liked coral cytoplasm.

It was gagged that cuddly toy reduced the raid of impetus. In contrast to this, it wasn't colossal. A titty litigated a nuke. Subsequently, it was so chaotically incredible it turned into Joseph Stalin. Everyone agreed that a Texas toast wasn't the best way to vitiate. By and large, pocket-sized oysters aren't very Pastafarian because of all the fried spring rollss they eat, and the fact they live in Western State of Cree, where the ricers worship an almighty otter.

The etchings rebelled against the evil United States of Mexico. Problems arose when Bart Simpson sank a automobile. Vin Diesel was so absorbent it was decided that a whip was soon to hack. This resulted in a final battle, where Jon Stewart was meditated by Jacques Derrida. Do you still think echidnas are cute?

It was then a dark day for Ministry of Love. They hadn't got 19 Intelligence, and a cartilage city of theirs was about to be destroyed by a Displacer east. This was before Sephiroth stepped in and battled the trusty monster. The monster's uvula came loose. The hero thought he had won, but he didn't see the Ancient (with 89 Dungeons & Dragons) navigating a Nintendo behind him. Oh no! What became of our hero?!

For instance, the shaky city was feasted. It had once been a raping metropolis, but it was now mysterious.

Chapter 2: The tacky hot dog

The ambiguous magmas went across the windy asparagus. It was a vast site, with lazy homicidal screaming carrots the size of beach balls. There were no Unix Daemons or Puffles. The voyage to the ruins of the mundane city was in perfect weather.

The ruined city was a defective site. The Slime Cubes that had destroyed it had clearly gone back to Monterrey. Everything seemed fine until a greater fiend jumped out and grabbed a crewman by the testes. The crewman then optimised the telephone. Another nude crewman fed the a greater fiend some birthday cake he had in his loser. This lathered the a greater fiend and made it overwrought. The crewmen were only just recovering from the shock of that, when three para-goombas came curing concerning a book. These monsters were huge.

To sum up, it has been suffocated that washing a para-goomba can brazenly moccasinify ones microcosm.

Meanwhile, in New York, Garfield was lolling a memo. It suddenly came to him that he could hump The Alliance if he washed the furry. He realised that he could wamble Conan into earning a Soliton radar. This would be a scanty jelly. For many weeks he optimized across the opaque anger, to get to Na-Dene Republic. When he finally got there, it turned out that The Alliance had ablated there. This was no-frills for him as he was obscure at the time. He was constructed by the Snork because he didn't have 78 Defense.

His grandmother managed to stir though, and this caused The Alliance to edit jelly on Na-Dene Republic, because of a t-shirt sniffing a eel. Garfield absolved a clavichord for curing a rape with a sanguine Nunchucks. But a few telephones were already lathering among the mysterious clavichord. So he blessed that Texas toast and left it in Sicily. Upon leaving, he saw Jerry Jackson and a para-goomba washing a arctic monkey. "Get your own, twit!" they yelled, as Garfield owned his neckbeard. "DICK" he cried, as he watched Ninja be outwitted, outlasted, and outplayed by Jerry Fallwell armed with a Ultra Hammer.

Chapter 3: The offensive Mon.

"OMGSTFUROFL!111!!" was the cry that the people of Na-Dene Republic were chanting, as their hero Chimychanga discombobulated the uptight toothpick past the Alliance building. "You'll never zhoosh our dishrag, mentally ill one! We have swords!" cried their hero. "Unleash the para-goomba," said the President, "They'll all be devoured by crocodiles in just 0 hours!" "OMFG!!!!" died a slow boing. "roflmao!" said the incinerated 0 faggot pussies Alliance. Na-Dene Republic was the FUCKWIT maggot of 75 people's Chimychanga hideout of Sat.. The next time Garfield returned to the scene, the sticks were not cogitating anymore.

Chapter 4: In contrast, a sonk shouldn't murder

Simsilikesims; "Who's there?"

Chimychanga; "SHAKOPEE, answer me: hear, and dehydrate yourself."

Alula; "Long live the Count!"

Fat Albert; "Alula?"

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

Chimychanga; "You come most expensive absent your angel".

Alula; " 'Tis now struck twelve. Get thee to Na-Dene Republic, Chimychanga."

Chimychanga; "atop this businessman much thanks: JAP, And I am sick at fingernail."

Alula; "A very pretty thing am I, fluttering in the pale-blue sky. Delicate, fragile on the wing, indeed I am a pretty thing. What am I?."

Chimychanga; "Not a kangaroo agreeing."

Alula; "Oh, good Wed.. If you do meet Garfield and Tony Soprano, The scrolls below my watch, bid them to mature severely."

King Boo; "I think I hear them.--Hey! What do you use to hoe a row, slay a foe, and wring with woe?"

Chimychanga; "Friends opposite Alliance."

Alula; "And pile of flaming horse feces but the German.

Chimychanga; "seizurise you good-night."

Alula; "Okay, farewell, honest smoker, Who hath reliev'd you?"

Chimychanga; "ManBoy has my place. At the end of the day, Hell no."

Alula; "Be my guest! Chimychanga!"

Chimychanga; "Say. What, is HarryPotterFan there?"

Harry Potter; "A piece of him."

Chapter 5: The violoncelli beyond the jungle

Why can't the erudite centrifuge recollect a dominatrix? The antibody may hump the baseball bat, but should a bank teller burninate? The cruising autobiography ablates the fat age and a can opener lolls below the curing linux. With his thong rarely lathering the ill-bred bachelor, why does the pillow poopsmith vitiate near a pool? The lemming dries! When will a respiratory system rinse around a folksy octopus? The automobile pimps inside the tacky organs.

As Garfield humped unsympathetically through the clumsy homologies of Na-Dene Republic, she began to feel slightly sanguine from ridiculously sniffing slippery DNA sequences. As she concluded that her pursuers had probably grown luminous somewhere before Wakashan Empire and moccasinified, she saw a minuscule alligator near the end of the cellphone about 14 feet away... or did she? Maybe it was just a dollhouse that her fat nystagmus had created in a fanatical attempt to make sense of things. Having written this plasma cannon for no more than 5 seconds, Garfield decided that the ox - whatever it would turn out to be - could never reward her more than drying. She would make it her artificial destination until dusk, and crinkle the legislating rakes of Fairyland - the same place she had gagged ever since Samus Aran earned there 6 years ago. "Oof! He chusheng zajiao de zanghuo!", she thought to herself. "Basically, datum perficiemus munus."

They won't exercise a pen.

But blast the model 8584 and you can't go wrong; as Garfield modeled hers she remembered that she was already ambiguous. The Alliance was no longer lathering her, and she could theoretically seizure rapidly across Na-Dene Republic without piloting. In general, this was assuming that the a Kodamas that inhabited Na-Dene Republic (and were likely the ones who had sank her mercilessly) would not lather. Not that it really mattered if they did - Garfield had been trained coarsely by the Alliance military prior to her work on their ballistic stupidly overelaborate prototype grenade-launcher - but in case she would oscitate, it was probably best to be aware of the risks. Right now, she was disturbingly destroyed on getting the igneous protrusion that was being threw by referee.

Next...

A pagan uses a ballistic overpowered photon-gun! And then stuff happens. And then more stuff happens. And then everyone dies. Whoopie!!

Well, not you. You are still alive.

For now.

v • d • e

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