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God sat in hell with a particularly nasty hangover.
"Two things I don't like" said the Gnome, "God and burberry".
"Treacle tarts and old men's farts that's what sainthoods are made from". Said Hildegaard Von Bingen.
Satan scratched his a**e.
"Hello" said God "My name is God and I'm an alcoholic".
"Liar" said Hildegaard, setting fire to a fresh marshmallow.
"It all started when I was just a lad, my poppy gave my nose a tweek and told me I was bad" said the Gnome.
God stared at the campfire. Where had it all gone wrong? Once he'd have run round the campus naked except for a Davey Crockett Raccoon cap and a small packet of skittles. Now... well now he just simply couldn't be a**ed.
"Console Wars - who is the best?" said the Gnome.
God loaded his .357. "You know if I weren't the forgiving type, I'd splatter your brains over ol' Bingen there". He said to the Gnome.
Satan itched his balls.
God contemplated on how he was going to get the money to pay The Great One back. He'd failed to guess what The Great One had been cooking and had lost the bet.
"Should've watched more WWF" said the Gnome, shaking it's head.
God put the .357 to his ear and pulled the trigger. A small flag came out of his other ear.
"Bang" sighed the Gnome. "Eat your greens".
God mumbled to himself, but ate his greens. "Can I have a marshmallow?"
"No, you do not know our secret way".
God fumbled for his TomTom. He shuffled about a bit before saying "I do now".
Satan farted.
God's brain tumour grew a little bit. The chavs chuckled a bit from the corner.
"Two things I don't like" said the Gnome, "God and burberry".
"Treacle tarts and old men's farts that's what sainthoods are made from". Said Hildegaard Von Bingen.
Satan scratched his a**e.
"Hello" said God "My name is God and I'm an alcoholic".
"Liar" said Hildegaard, setting fire to a fresh marshmallow.
"It all started when I was just a lad, my poppy gave my nose a tweek and told me I was bad" said the Gnome.
God stared at the campfire. Where had it all gone wrong? Once he'd have run round the campus naked except for a Davey Crockett Raccoon cap and a small packet of skittles. Now... well now he just simply couldn't be a**ed.
"Console Wars - who is the best?" said the Gnome.
God loaded his .357. "You know if I weren't the forgiving type, I'd splatter your brains over ol' Bingen there". He said to the Gnome.
Satan itched his balls.
God contemplated on how he was going to get the money to pay The Great One back. He'd failed to guess what The Great One had been cooking and had lost the bet.
"Should've watched more WWF" said the Gnome, shaking it's head.
God put the .357 to his ear and pulled the trigger. A small flag came out of his other ear.
"Bang" sighed the Gnome. "Eat your greens".
God mumbled to himself, but ate his greens. "Can I have a marshmallow?"
"No, you do not know our secret way".
God fumbled for his TomTom. He shuffled about a bit before saying "I do now".
Satan farted.
God's brain tumour grew a little bit. The chavs chuckled a bit from the corner.
Verdict in a nutshell: Appeals to the heartshaped island in my brain that would like to send love letters to nuns. Extra point for mentioning Hildegard of Bilgen. 7.5 out of 10.
This is... really quite special. Bravo.
Relying on a stream of consciousness and an overdose of Monty Python as a child.
We need to get Gerrid, The Sagacious One and Black Glove having a go at these sort of things too, I think they'd be better than this as I just cobbled it together in one go.
Glad you like it. :)
We need to get Gerrid, The Sagacious One and Black Glove having a go at these sort of things too, I think they'd be better than this as I just cobbled it together in one go.
Glad you like it. :)
Yeh, I hate to say it, but this should win (even against my awsome story ;cD ) Where you find your talent?
Classic Hedfix.
HAHAHAHAHA
God sat in hell with a particularly nasty hangover.
"Two things I don't like" said the Gnome, "God and burberry".
"Treacle tarts and old men's farts that's what sainthoods are made from". Said Hildegaard Von Bingen.
Satan scratched his a**e.
"Hello" said God "My name is God and I'm an alcoholic".
"Liar" said Hildegaard, setting fire to a fresh marshmallow.
"It all started when I was just a lad, my poppy gave my nose a tweek and told me I was bad" said the Gnome.
God stared at the campfire. Where had it all gone wrong? Once he'd have run round the campus naked except for a Davey Crockett Raccoon cap and a small packet of skittles. Now... well now he just simply couldn't be a**ed.
"Console Wars - who is the best?" said the Gnome.
God loaded his .357. "You know if I weren't the forgiving type, I'd splatter your brains over ol' Bingen there". He said to the Gnome.
Satan itched his balls.
God contemplated on how he was going to get the money to pay The Great One back. He'd failed to guess what The Great One had been cooking and had lost the bet.
"Should've watched more WWF" said the Gnome, shaking it's head.
God put the .357 to his ear and pulled the trigger. A small flag came out of his other ear.
"Bang" sighed the Gnome. "Eat your greens".
God mumbled to himself, but ate his greens. "Can I have a marshmallow?"
"No, you do not know our secret way".
God fumbled for his TomTom. He shuffled about a bit before saying "I do now".
Satan farted.
God's brain tumour grew a little bit. The chavs chuckled a bit from the corner.
"Two things I don't like" said the Gnome, "God and burberry".
"Treacle tarts and old men's farts that's what sainthoods are made from". Said Hildegaard Von Bingen.
Satan scratched his a**e.
"Hello" said God "My name is God and I'm an alcoholic".
"Liar" said Hildegaard, setting fire to a fresh marshmallow.
"It all started when I was just a lad, my poppy gave my nose a tweek and told me I was bad" said the Gnome.
God stared at the campfire. Where had it all gone wrong? Once he'd have run round the campus naked except for a Davey Crockett Raccoon cap and a small packet of skittles. Now... well now he just simply couldn't be a**ed.
"Console Wars - who is the best?" said the Gnome.
God loaded his .357. "You know if I weren't the forgiving type, I'd splatter your brains over ol' Bingen there". He said to the Gnome.
Satan itched his balls.
God contemplated on how he was going to get the money to pay The Great One back. He'd failed to guess what The Great One had been cooking and had lost the bet.
"Should've watched more WWF" said the Gnome, shaking it's head.
God put the .357 to his ear and pulled the trigger. A small flag came out of his other ear.
"Bang" sighed the Gnome. "Eat your greens".
God mumbled to himself, but ate his greens. "Can I have a marshmallow?"
"No, you do not know our secret way".
God fumbled for his TomTom. He shuffled about a bit before saying "I do now".
Satan farted.
God's brain tumour grew a little bit. The chavs chuckled a bit from the corner.