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'Twas a black night in Raciv-Dam. Black as night, you might say. The Raven sat upon his throne, a little knook on top of Farmer Manyboobs' barn. His eyes gleamed as he surveyed the cornfields, waiting for the slight movement of the farmer and his shotgun.
The corn ahead began to part as a man-shaped figure, most-likely a man, adavanced towards the barn. It wasn't Farmer Manyboobs' but the local vicar. The Raven was curious and so took flight, and off to the church.
'Twas at the church, that The Raven noticed the door to the bell tower was open. It was open as it was wooden. He flew up to a tower window and peered inside. The bell chimed at that precise moment. He wasn't alone. There, pulling on the old rope to swing the bell was young David David, the headmaster's son. To his side was some bread and pilchards, a fine snack for the average twenty-four-year-old of Raciv-Dam. But why would David David be ringing the bells at this time? Unless it was a warning bell. A warning bell to symbolise that the vicar had gone on one of his crazy benders again.
The Raven soared away, back to the cornfields, it had to know what the vicar was upto. He perched on the barn and looked out for him, but there was no sign. Unless... had the vicar gone in the barn? But why? The Raven crept in through a gap in the roof, and gazed before him.
David David had been right. There, infront of The Raven, was the vicar canoodling with twenty-four-year-old Imelda Magreth. Last time the vicar had done something like this, it was with Betsy Bromanov. But last time was acceptable, this time it wasn't. Imelda Magreth (who enjoys bread and pilchards) was atleast a foot taller than the vicar!
The corn ahead began to part as a man-shaped figure, most-likely a man, adavanced towards the barn. It wasn't Farmer Manyboobs' but the local vicar. The Raven was curious and so took flight, and off to the church.
'Twas at the church, that The Raven noticed the door to the bell tower was open. It was open as it was wooden. He flew up to a tower window and peered inside. The bell chimed at that precise moment. He wasn't alone. There, pulling on the old rope to swing the bell was young David David, the headmaster's son. To his side was some bread and pilchards, a fine snack for the average twenty-four-year-old of Raciv-Dam. But why would David David be ringing the bells at this time? Unless it was a warning bell. A warning bell to symbolise that the vicar had gone on one of his crazy benders again.
The Raven soared away, back to the cornfields, it had to know what the vicar was upto. He perched on the barn and looked out for him, but there was no sign. Unless... had the vicar gone in the barn? But why? The Raven crept in through a gap in the roof, and gazed before him.
David David had been right. There, infront of The Raven, was the vicar canoodling with twenty-four-year-old Imelda Magreth. Last time the vicar had done something like this, it was with Betsy Bromanov. But last time was acceptable, this time it wasn't. Imelda Magreth (who enjoys bread and pilchards) was atleast a foot taller than the vicar!
I love it when you talk dirty, Dolores...
Yes, an equally not-so-good story.
I should've mentioned that this is a spin-off from "A Chase".
Attempt at surreal #1
Result = Failure. Must be TERMINATED immediatly.
:(
Result = Failure. Must be TERMINATED immediatly.
:(
The suspense nearly killed me, too.
That sucked, though im not quite with it right now and may be able to understand better later.
Absolutely terrifying. Farmer WHAT???
Very nice I liked that lots!
'Twas a black night in Raciv-Dam. Black as night, you might say. The Raven sat upon his throne, a little knook on top of Farmer Manyboobs' barn. His eyes gleamed as he surveyed the cornfields, waiting for the slight movement of the farmer and his shotgun.
The corn ahead began to part as a man-shaped figure, most-likely a man, adavanced towards the barn. It wasn't Farmer Manyboobs' but the local vicar. The Raven was curious and so took flight, and off to the church.
'Twas at the church, that The Raven noticed the door to the bell tower was open. It was open as it was wooden. He flew up to a tower window and peered inside. The bell chimed at that precise moment. He wasn't alone. There, pulling on the old rope to swing the bell was young David David, the headmaster's son. To his side was some bread and pilchards, a fine snack for the average twenty-four-year-old of Raciv-Dam. But why would David David be ringing the bells at this time? Unless it was a warning bell. A warning bell to symbolise that the vicar had gone on one of his crazy benders again.
The Raven soared away, back to the cornfields, it had to know what the vicar was upto. He perched on the barn and looked out for him, but there was no sign. Unless... had the vicar gone in the barn? But why? The Raven crept in through a gap in the roof, and gazed before him.
David David had been right. There, infront of The Raven, was the vicar canoodling with twenty-four-year-old Imelda Magreth. Last time the vicar had done something like this, it was with Betsy Bromanov. But last time was acceptable, this time it wasn't. Imelda Magreth (who enjoys bread and pilchards) was atleast a foot taller than the vicar!
The corn ahead began to part as a man-shaped figure, most-likely a man, adavanced towards the barn. It wasn't Farmer Manyboobs' but the local vicar. The Raven was curious and so took flight, and off to the church.
'Twas at the church, that The Raven noticed the door to the bell tower was open. It was open as it was wooden. He flew up to a tower window and peered inside. The bell chimed at that precise moment. He wasn't alone. There, pulling on the old rope to swing the bell was young David David, the headmaster's son. To his side was some bread and pilchards, a fine snack for the average twenty-four-year-old of Raciv-Dam. But why would David David be ringing the bells at this time? Unless it was a warning bell. A warning bell to symbolise that the vicar had gone on one of his crazy benders again.
The Raven soared away, back to the cornfields, it had to know what the vicar was upto. He perched on the barn and looked out for him, but there was no sign. Unless... had the vicar gone in the barn? But why? The Raven crept in through a gap in the roof, and gazed before him.
David David had been right. There, infront of The Raven, was the vicar canoodling with twenty-four-year-old Imelda Magreth. Last time the vicar had done something like this, it was with Betsy Bromanov. But last time was acceptable, this time it wasn't. Imelda Magreth (who enjoys bread and pilchards) was atleast a foot taller than the vicar!