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Oh so many years ago it all happened. It was a traditional cat brush day. The village crest consists of a cat with white toilet brush bristles coming out of its eyes and the tip of a handle bulging from its hide. The three guises of most cat brush day cats:
1 Not plunged enough
2 Gruesome
3 Supper time
It was on this sacred strawberry day that he came. A gigantio ship gloriously bounced atop the wafer waves spraying jets of water skyward. Some merchants at the harbour hoped the water would go into space and come back so that its value increased. Others wanted a man made of diamonds to jump off the stern bow and shower them with riches. Meanwhile the humble townspeople watched fondly onwards, whilst plunging moggys up the batty with crudely made toilet brushes.
Horns came out over the misty water and grew blurred and gnarly. The protective barrier fog parted ways and let entrance for the luxurious flying boatsmen. A gigantic ship hotel accompanied by a range of smaller tugs and patrol boats pasting on the water. Pink morning sky that tasted delicious, deliciously sparkled low calorie sugar glaze in the background.
The massive ship came closer into view and peoples first impressions were twisting and nerves kept being woven away multiple times with anxious delight. Spiralling down greenly to one’s own butterflies and coughing them back with crunchy tarnish.
Someone very important was on this ship; it dawned upon the simple folk below. Looking down at them from the top floor suite hundreds of metres up above, seeing a smallish town surrounded and isolated by a giant beanstalk forest, stood the Opal Meister. Gasps of wonder could be heard from an old woman sitting on a bench overlooking the harbour. The rest of the townspeople were frozen with apprehension, leering helplessly in the shadow of the floating fortress.
Blue leaves on black trees fell from the pseudo cabbage patch behind the inn. This, and the highly disturbed water were the only sounds heard. Oh wait, that and about two hundred cats screaming in raped agony.
Invisible time bandits from the far beyond future floated above the town with an animal decoder equipped. Loud, distressed cries of black veiny painy torture then began to make sense:
“STOP SHOVING THAT THING UP MY ASS DUDE!” (Damn American made animal decoders, thought one time bandit)
“I CAN SEE ELECTRONS ORBITING THE MICRO ORGANISM FOOD CHAIN” (Apparently cat death is a bit different…)
Not entertained enough, the group of bandits went back to diagnosing Hitler with rectum ulcers in an invisible puff of smoke and whirring electrical gizmos.
At ground level, everything had stopped when the ship party finally docked. Prolonged brushing of cats’ innards had led to painful wrists and everyone had stopped raping by now. One man pulled his brush out and surveyed the multi-coloured bristles. An anal vein on the end of his brush summed up how the cats felt: Strained, red and unfixable.
The gargling silence was taken advantage of by a herd of winged violins that breezed past the now calming waters. A few gulls put on their war veteran hats and queued up in order of how hard they were, preparing to intercept.
Two sailors that were made of dough descended a wide set of silver stairs which led to the harbour. Then the Opal Meister emerged. Blackened facial features over a pale face. Scowling eyes with a wry smile. Eight foot tall and half as wide. He was wearing strange foreign fabrics. Organic needs, synthetic standards, the Meister paced the boardwalk alone and came to the end were everyone could be seen.
He looked around the awry townspeople. Most were holding cats that were as still as statues: petrified with pain, speechless with violation. Their poor little feline pain was so immense that only silence could exploit it.
The Meister halted his observations and looked like he was about to address everyone: [I]
Congratulations. You’ve all just taken part in a thirty year reality TV show were you abuse cats all day.
1 Not plunged enough
2 Gruesome
3 Supper time
It was on this sacred strawberry day that he came. A gigantio ship gloriously bounced atop the wafer waves spraying jets of water skyward. Some merchants at the harbour hoped the water would go into space and come back so that its value increased. Others wanted a man made of diamonds to jump off the stern bow and shower them with riches. Meanwhile the humble townspeople watched fondly onwards, whilst plunging moggys up the batty with crudely made toilet brushes.
Horns came out over the misty water and grew blurred and gnarly. The protective barrier fog parted ways and let entrance for the luxurious flying boatsmen. A gigantic ship hotel accompanied by a range of smaller tugs and patrol boats pasting on the water. Pink morning sky that tasted delicious, deliciously sparkled low calorie sugar glaze in the background.
The massive ship came closer into view and peoples first impressions were twisting and nerves kept being woven away multiple times with anxious delight. Spiralling down greenly to one’s own butterflies and coughing them back with crunchy tarnish.
Someone very important was on this ship; it dawned upon the simple folk below. Looking down at them from the top floor suite hundreds of metres up above, seeing a smallish town surrounded and isolated by a giant beanstalk forest, stood the Opal Meister. Gasps of wonder could be heard from an old woman sitting on a bench overlooking the harbour. The rest of the townspeople were frozen with apprehension, leering helplessly in the shadow of the floating fortress.
Blue leaves on black trees fell from the pseudo cabbage patch behind the inn. This, and the highly disturbed water were the only sounds heard. Oh wait, that and about two hundred cats screaming in raped agony.
Invisible time bandits from the far beyond future floated above the town with an animal decoder equipped. Loud, distressed cries of black veiny painy torture then began to make sense:
“STOP SHOVING THAT THING UP MY ASS DUDE!” (Damn American made animal decoders, thought one time bandit)
“I CAN SEE ELECTRONS ORBITING THE MICRO ORGANISM FOOD CHAIN” (Apparently cat death is a bit different…)
Not entertained enough, the group of bandits went back to diagnosing Hitler with rectum ulcers in an invisible puff of smoke and whirring electrical gizmos.
At ground level, everything had stopped when the ship party finally docked. Prolonged brushing of cats’ innards had led to painful wrists and everyone had stopped raping by now. One man pulled his brush out and surveyed the multi-coloured bristles. An anal vein on the end of his brush summed up how the cats felt: Strained, red and unfixable.
The gargling silence was taken advantage of by a herd of winged violins that breezed past the now calming waters. A few gulls put on their war veteran hats and queued up in order of how hard they were, preparing to intercept.
Two sailors that were made of dough descended a wide set of silver stairs which led to the harbour. Then the Opal Meister emerged. Blackened facial features over a pale face. Scowling eyes with a wry smile. Eight foot tall and half as wide. He was wearing strange foreign fabrics. Organic needs, synthetic standards, the Meister paced the boardwalk alone and came to the end were everyone could be seen.
He looked around the awry townspeople. Most were holding cats that were as still as statues: petrified with pain, speechless with violation. Their poor little feline pain was so immense that only silence could exploit it.
The Meister halted his observations and looked like he was about to address everyone: [I]
Congratulations. You’ve all just taken part in a thirty year reality TV show were you abuse cats all day.
Everything apart from the last line was gonna be some huge great story.
I got bored though. *hangs head*
I got bored though. *hangs head*
Hurrah, the new forum finally gained some credibility.
Oh so many years ago it all happened. It was a traditional cat brush day. The village crest consists of a cat with white toilet brush bristles coming out of its eyes and the tip of a handle bulging from its hide. The three guises of most cat brush day cats:
1 Not plunged enough
2 Gruesome
3 Supper time
It was on this sacred strawberry day that he came. A gigantio ship gloriously bounced atop the wafer waves spraying jets of water skyward. Some merchants at the harbour hoped the water would go into space and come back so that its value increased. Others wanted a man made of diamonds to jump off the stern bow and shower them with riches. Meanwhile the humble townspeople watched fondly onwards, whilst plunging moggys up the batty with crudely made toilet brushes.
Horns came out over the misty water and grew blurred and gnarly. The protective barrier fog parted ways and let entrance for the luxurious flying boatsmen. A gigantic ship hotel accompanied by a range of smaller tugs and patrol boats pasting on the water. Pink morning sky that tasted delicious, deliciously sparkled low calorie sugar glaze in the background.
The massive ship came closer into view and peoples first impressions were twisting and nerves kept being woven away multiple times with anxious delight. Spiralling down greenly to one’s own butterflies and coughing them back with crunchy tarnish.
Someone very important was on this ship; it dawned upon the simple folk below. Looking down at them from the top floor suite hundreds of metres up above, seeing a smallish town surrounded and isolated by a giant beanstalk forest, stood the Opal Meister. Gasps of wonder could be heard from an old woman sitting on a bench overlooking the harbour. The rest of the townspeople were frozen with apprehension, leering helplessly in the shadow of the floating fortress.
Blue leaves on black trees fell from the pseudo cabbage patch behind the inn. This, and the highly disturbed water were the only sounds heard. Oh wait, that and about two hundred cats screaming in raped agony.
Invisible time bandits from the far beyond future floated above the town with an animal decoder equipped. Loud, distressed cries of black veiny painy torture then began to make sense:
“STOP SHOVING THAT THING UP MY ASS DUDE!” (Damn American made animal decoders, thought one time bandit)
“I CAN SEE ELECTRONS ORBITING THE MICRO ORGANISM FOOD CHAIN” (Apparently cat death is a bit different…)
Not entertained enough, the group of bandits went back to diagnosing Hitler with rectum ulcers in an invisible puff of smoke and whirring electrical gizmos.
At ground level, everything had stopped when the ship party finally docked. Prolonged brushing of cats’ innards had led to painful wrists and everyone had stopped raping by now. One man pulled his brush out and surveyed the multi-coloured bristles. An anal vein on the end of his brush summed up how the cats felt: Strained, red and unfixable.
The gargling silence was taken advantage of by a herd of winged violins that breezed past the now calming waters. A few gulls put on their war veteran hats and queued up in order of how hard they were, preparing to intercept.
Two sailors that were made of dough descended a wide set of silver stairs which led to the harbour. Then the Opal Meister emerged. Blackened facial features over a pale face. Scowling eyes with a wry smile. Eight foot tall and half as wide. He was wearing strange foreign fabrics. Organic needs, synthetic standards, the Meister paced the boardwalk alone and came to the end were everyone could be seen.
He looked around the awry townspeople. Most were holding cats that were as still as statues: petrified with pain, speechless with violation. Their poor little feline pain was so immense that only silence could exploit it.
The Meister halted his observations and looked like he was about to address everyone: [I]
Congratulations. You’ve all just taken part in a thirty year reality TV show were you abuse cats all day.
1 Not plunged enough
2 Gruesome
3 Supper time
It was on this sacred strawberry day that he came. A gigantio ship gloriously bounced atop the wafer waves spraying jets of water skyward. Some merchants at the harbour hoped the water would go into space and come back so that its value increased. Others wanted a man made of diamonds to jump off the stern bow and shower them with riches. Meanwhile the humble townspeople watched fondly onwards, whilst plunging moggys up the batty with crudely made toilet brushes.
Horns came out over the misty water and grew blurred and gnarly. The protective barrier fog parted ways and let entrance for the luxurious flying boatsmen. A gigantic ship hotel accompanied by a range of smaller tugs and patrol boats pasting on the water. Pink morning sky that tasted delicious, deliciously sparkled low calorie sugar glaze in the background.
The massive ship came closer into view and peoples first impressions were twisting and nerves kept being woven away multiple times with anxious delight. Spiralling down greenly to one’s own butterflies and coughing them back with crunchy tarnish.
Someone very important was on this ship; it dawned upon the simple folk below. Looking down at them from the top floor suite hundreds of metres up above, seeing a smallish town surrounded and isolated by a giant beanstalk forest, stood the Opal Meister. Gasps of wonder could be heard from an old woman sitting on a bench overlooking the harbour. The rest of the townspeople were frozen with apprehension, leering helplessly in the shadow of the floating fortress.
Blue leaves on black trees fell from the pseudo cabbage patch behind the inn. This, and the highly disturbed water were the only sounds heard. Oh wait, that and about two hundred cats screaming in raped agony.
Invisible time bandits from the far beyond future floated above the town with an animal decoder equipped. Loud, distressed cries of black veiny painy torture then began to make sense:
“STOP SHOVING THAT THING UP MY ASS DUDE!” (Damn American made animal decoders, thought one time bandit)
“I CAN SEE ELECTRONS ORBITING THE MICRO ORGANISM FOOD CHAIN” (Apparently cat death is a bit different…)
Not entertained enough, the group of bandits went back to diagnosing Hitler with rectum ulcers in an invisible puff of smoke and whirring electrical gizmos.
At ground level, everything had stopped when the ship party finally docked. Prolonged brushing of cats’ innards had led to painful wrists and everyone had stopped raping by now. One man pulled his brush out and surveyed the multi-coloured bristles. An anal vein on the end of his brush summed up how the cats felt: Strained, red and unfixable.
The gargling silence was taken advantage of by a herd of winged violins that breezed past the now calming waters. A few gulls put on their war veteran hats and queued up in order of how hard they were, preparing to intercept.
Two sailors that were made of dough descended a wide set of silver stairs which led to the harbour. Then the Opal Meister emerged. Blackened facial features over a pale face. Scowling eyes with a wry smile. Eight foot tall and half as wide. He was wearing strange foreign fabrics. Organic needs, synthetic standards, the Meister paced the boardwalk alone and came to the end were everyone could be seen.
He looked around the awry townspeople. Most were holding cats that were as still as statues: petrified with pain, speechless with violation. Their poor little feline pain was so immense that only silence could exploit it.
The Meister halted his observations and looked like he was about to address everyone: [I]
Congratulations. You’ve all just taken part in a thirty year reality TV show were you abuse cats all day.