THE PLAYERS:
Glenn
Whore McWhorenston
 

I did not know what to do as I saw my wife, my only,
burst due to the explosion in her belly. Oh, dear.
Sandwich bits everywhere. But I was hungry.
I was so hungry that the sandwich bits were
not enought to quench my thirst for food. Not by a long shot.
I noticed that the other restaurants were closed, and the only one open was Osama's.
Which made some sense, because I was in Osamaston,
the independant nation-state the US paid him to create.
I don't like things. Or stuff. I decided I neede religion.
I went to the first church I could find, hoping that
God might actually be in one of them. So I
went into the church of Julianne. She was there.
Well, in statue form. Actually, it was a statue of
someone who had a shocking resemblence to Julianne.
It was her evil twin sister, Y. Y decided
it was time to put herself back into the calculator
matrix, which was actually closer to a cranial structure
than you might think. Then I went to the confessional, where
al was screaling in pain because the Congress
was on tiop of him. It hurt. A lot
of people hated me. A whole lot. But I learned to
survive, slowly, with time. I learned slowly, with my
incredible lack of ability to grasp abstract
concepts such as antigravity. "En-mity," he said.
At that exact moment, Paul, appearing from
behind a stone wall, fell over and
died. Which mad Glenn ever madder than
stealing his sandwich would have.