He drank the lemonade.
I know, Ed. You see, ever since this criminal drank some lemonade out of this guys bathroom, Ed here has made it his lifetime quest to tell everyone that the criminal drank this lemonade.
He did!
I know Ed, I know. Anyway, this story will be different from the previous one. This story will have new characters. That’s it, just new characters. But don’t fret, once and a while we’ll check in on our old pals from the first story. Plus, you won’t have to worry about things making sense. Things will still pretty much be senseless and pointless. Here we go………………………………………………
"Luke, I am your father," said a deep, breathy voice.
What, who’s Luke? I apologize. There seems to be some sort of interference.
"Follow the yellow brick road," said some scratchy deep voice.
Hmm? A yellow brick road? Even I can’t come up with something that stupid.
"Run, Forest, run!" a woman yelled.
Hey! I’m not writing that, and if I’m not writing it, than who is?
"Me," said I.
Huh! That must be the voice of my arch rival, the worst author on earth, Mr. Literature!
"Yes, it is me," said Mr. Literature.
It is I, not me, I! Learn your biology, Mr. Literature!
"Sorry," Mr. Literature talked.
You always haunted me as a kid, you and your green paint and pink poke-a-dots! You are the most evil house I know! Look, I got a book to write here, so if you don’t mind…
"I’m not leaving, Shane," Mr. Literature said while giving Shane a bad guy stare.
A cold stare, Mr. Literature, not a bad guy stare, a cold stare. Why won’t you leave? What do I have to do to get rid of you…for good? A million dollars? A girlfriend? A half dinosaur half whale type of creature?
"No, Shane. There is only one thing I want," Mr. Literature talked to Shane.
Oh, a girlfriend.
"No, Shane. You already guessed that. I want to write this story," Mr. Literature used these words to talk.
(See folks, when Mr. Literature is talking, that’s his writing, not mine. I apologize for how horribly it’s written, but it’s not my fault. It’s Mr. Literature doing it.)
Never!
"Fine. I’m going away," Mr. Literature walks away.
Humph. I have a feeling he’ll be back. Say around chapter ten. Anyway, here’s chapter one…
"I fear I may be…pregnant!" Terrance exclaimed.
That was chapter one. Now, let’s go check up on Berry Beufordson from the first book.
"…someday I will find you and put an end to this!" Berry yelled into the air.
You have to understand something here, Berry’s house gets hit by a tornado every day. Same time, same tornado. But Berry thinks someone’s destroying his house everyday and has decided to plot some sort of scheme to get revenge on who ever it is he thinks is guilty of doing it.
"I’m back!" Mr. Literature talked.
Oh, no! It’s my arch rival, Mr. Literature, and he has come back with some sort of plan to try and parish me from my very existence!
"No. Actually, I forgot my hat," told Mr. Literature," bye."
Oh, ok. Bye. Now that he’s gone, I’d like to apologize, again, for Mr. Literature’s horrible choice of words. He’s not really an American house, he was made in Jagtwong. That explains his limited choice of words in the English language. Well, till next time, bye.
(He drank the lemonade.)
By the way, Mr. Literature is a house, in case you didn’t catch that. But don’t let his ugly green paint and pink poke-a-dots fool you! He is the most sinister house ever built! In fact, he’s so evil that one time, a boy came up to him and said, "Why are you a house?" And Mr. Literature replied, "I prefer to be called the humanly challenged!" Then he swung open his front door and hit the poor kid right on his bottom! I mean, come on! That’s just not right! He is sinisterly evil!(I wonder who built him in the first place…)
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