It was just a few minutes ago. I was listening to the Trans-Siberian Orchestra when my gramps waddled in sheepishly and attempted to get me in a headlock. I squawked in pure terror at the hideous sight of his bare lard barrels. He seemed to be gallavanting in slow motion around me, mumbling his native tongue under his breath in a sinister manner, while I was staring, mouth agape, watching his soiled and unsanitary lard crevices bobbing up and down. You see, he isn't due for his annual bath until December 28th. Anyway, I exuberantly stood up and told him he must vacate the premises. He did not heed my request, so I located my tranquilizer gun and shot him in the liver. He began to sway uncontrollably and flew down the stairs, his gastrointestinal tract seemed to wave at me as he passed by my range of vision. I quivered slightly as I watched the eyesore of a corpse soar down the staircase. I wandered down after him, and found his futile remains draped across the mahogany staircase. It was then that the realization of my actions sunk in. What should I do about my gramps?
2006-12-21
08:26:09
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9 answers
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asked by
Reginalda
1
in
Society & Culture
➔ Religion & Spirituality