Erikka Randomery |
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Random Story
Okay, it works like this: 1) Read the words until you come to a box. 2) Choose your own word from the drop down menu. 3) Smile, nod, and run away quickly.
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The True Story of My Tragic Rat I used to have a rat named . This used to be your average rat, until a series of events. If I now refer to my rat as tragic, it is a understatement. This rat has seen pain. pain. So much pain its hardly surprising that it has dyed its fur black in and pierced its own , no less than times. The first thing to go wrong in my rat's life didn't seem to affect it much at first. It began with a resulting in a visit to Dr , the vet. Apparently my rat was . A massive was needed, as well as heavy medicating. In theory, all seemed like it should work out, but later the rat was going . It began to do this weird little , until it collapsed. It was back to the vet again... The Doctor prescribed a dosage of , and after swallowing this medication, my rat seemed fine again. In fact, a little too fine. I walked out of my to see my pet walking the edge of the guttering, balancing a on its nose, while singing . This rather disturbed me. What disturbed me even more was the fact that when the poor thing fell, it would have been alright, save for the slight impaling. And so my rat needed its amputated. And that didn't cure its apparent perky insanity. After the morphine had worn off, my amputee rat went into a until a friend rat came and offered it . This seemed to cheer it up , so I decided to kidnap the friend rat. My rat loved its company, and perked right up again. This scared me, and I began to have flash backs of . Friend rat had to go. The told me what I must do. I grabbed friend rat by the , and flung it out the window. Snapping out of my insanity filled trance, I watched in as the rat fell, crying , until it splattered on the glass roof of my sun room. My rat just happened to be tanning its belly in the sun room at the time. It blinked up in confusion at the splatter on the ceiling, mistaking it for until it realised what it really was. Then it and passed out. At this point, I gave up and . Unfortunately, I forgot to remove a spoon I found baked in a . But that's hardly my fault, I mean, I already removed a , a , and the from it. So my rat used the spoon, and tunneled straight out of its confinement, ended up at a local high school, joined those of the Gothic persuasion, and is now sitting somewhere sipping coffee in a rather demure fashion.
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