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THING OF THE dAY (thing+22)

CaptainWacky

I want to smell dark matter
THERE ARE PATTERNS IN ALL THIGNS


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THAT WAS A STORY


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Billy knew he had to make a lot of toast. MORE AND MORE TOAST. His big toast pile was teetering, it fell! All over the filthy kitchen floor. But he didn't care. Dirty toast was better than no toast. HE HAD TO MAKE TOAST. He couldn't remember why, for a moment. He was frustrated. He ripped a loaf of bread apart. Then he remembered! Nuclear war was coming and if he didn't make the toast now he never would! The toaster wouldn't work after the nuclear war. He had to stockpile his toast. TOAST TOAST TOAST...

He stuffed the remains of the loaf into the toaster. It caught fire.

"TOAST TOAST TOAST!" he said, madly, recklessly grabbing the fiery toaster and flowing it out his back door, into the snow. "NUCLEAR WINTER!" he said, suddenly, and felt very proud of himself. He rolled around on the kitchen floor for a while. He rolled amidst his toast.

He crawled into the living room and looked under the couch. He was surprised to see a rat there. And a baby, smoking a cigar.

"Oy mate, got anything to eat?" asked the baby. Billy thought for a moment that this wasn't right, then shook it off. He'd seen stranger things than that recently. That time his television transformed into Optimus Prime and told him to floss his teeth, for example. There had bee a time when he would have called his therapist. A time when he would have been scared into taking his pills again. Not this time.

"Sure thing, I'll get you some toast!" he said, and crawled back tot he kitchen. He scooped up some toast, crawled back, and flung it under the couch. Strangely, only the rat ate it.

"TOAST TOAST TOAST!" he said, standing up. "HAHAHAAHAHAHA, It'S ALL FUCKING MEANINGLESS LIFE I MEAN REMEMBER THAT I LEARNED THAT I WROTE IT DOWN ON MY PENIS NO THAT'S STUPID HAHAHAAHAH STOP SAYING STUPID THIGNS YOU LYING JEWBAG YOU AHVE TO STOP BEING STUPID THAT'S HOW YOU ENDED UP LIKE THIS, BEING STUPID BECAUSE YOU CAN'T FACE THE REAL WORLD YOU BASTARD YOU MUTTON CHOP, STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP!"

He punched himself rapidly, and hard. He could throw a pretty good punch.

"THEY'RE COMING, tHE SPACEEPEOPLE ARE COMING TO STEAL OUR ATOMS, WE HAVE TO HIDE!" he said, trying to convince himself.

"No, mate," said the baby, who had turned into a silverback gorialla. "There ain't no spacepeople and there never way. You're alone and you're going to die soon."

"DIET, DIET, I'M GOING TO DIET SOON, AN ALL TOAST DIET, HEHEHEEH, GOD IS LOVE!" said Billy, kicking at the gorilla. "KA-POW!" he added.

He thought of watching all three extended editions of the LOTR movies on DVD again, without taking a pee break, but he remembered that he'd burned all his DVDs three days previously when he thought his ex-girlfriend was trying to steal them. It had been another day before he had remembered that he'd never even had a girlfriend, she was just some contestant on a reality tv show he had liked.

That wouldn't stop the wedding, though!

"TOOOOOOOOOOOOAST!" he screamed, with nothing else to do. He said down and decided to draw a picture of Satan on the floor. "HE LOOKS LIKE NATALIE PORTMAN!" he shouted.

His neighbours called the police to complain about the noise at that point. Billy mistook the police of the space people, shouted "YOU'RE NOT GETTING MY ATOMS!" and threw toast at them.

"Maybe I'll finally get help," he said, hopefully, sitting in the back of the police car. "HAHAHAAHAHAHA, NUCLEAR WINTER, BRILLIANT, TOAST, TOAST, THE JEWS DRINK JUICE IN JANUARY!"

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PART OF ME IS DEAd

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