The Big Bad Chicken Gunner was shooting chickens all over the yard, whilst fondling his bacon themed ninja yoda turtle and at the same time, watching a very boring infomercial, which was talking about ecology and how space whales mated regularly each year at the south-east end of Australia.
"Why are whales relevant here?" {Detritus shouts}
"Because they are very awesome" {Ironduke whispered}
"This doesn't make any sense.."
"Because your brain is broken"
"Please explain this claim, Ironduke"..
.. before the universe implodes and we all die from it.
Unfortunately Ironduke never replied, and the sky is already darkening.
Without his reply, the end is coming quickly; all shall die a miserable death, without any hope of escape, as the cookies of doom were dancing the apocalyptic tanga of misspelling the names of dances.
"But back to the end of the line for hobos.."
".. not that end, you idiot, that is the leprosy line."
Now, let us return to the hobo line, where we were going because hobos can't dance the cookie tanga as well as some others can.
And thus begins a wonderful cookie tanga dance, even though we tried to end this.
Well, that failed quite miserably.
As Detritus normally does here.
Failure often comes in waves, like diarrhea or bad gas.
But in some extreme cases, death or zombification, for example.
But anyways, the cookie tanga is an exotic art that includes many tangy tasting cookies, along with deliciously specialty drinks.
All served from the best Iron Duke Cookie Tanga Bars.
"Why would IronDuke sell those" asks Detritus.
"If not to spread deliciousness" answers Draglide.
Obviously, his dream of cooking is somewhat twisted, but that is nothing compared to Detritus' twisted patootie.
Detritus also has several enemies, those who dislike twisted patooties and parnellum taverns.
"But anyway, without further ado!!" chimes in the community manager!!
.. and avoiding five-word sentences, we cross the bridge of Khazad-Dum and stop before the mighty Balrog, cracking pillows and cookies, then pass the puny little goblins who decide to eat bacon at 7pm that evening.
After indulging in some twerking and listening to Miley Cyrus, they caught a nasty virus which would kill them unless, Limity Theory.. the cure for punctuation of a dubious quality, that makes me wanna scream like a wild screamin' banshee.
Speaking of screaming, the kamikazee squirrel, ghost, monkey and friends scream BONZAAAIII and charge at the lowly plebs that think the word "pleb" is actually any kind of insult and should really not be used.
After wrecking plebs, the kamikaze found out that in actuality one plus one is three!
But only when insanely drunk.
Or when insanely high on the wonderful game of LT.
Meanwhile, Ninjas abound, with a large number of irrelevant edits, laughing at amazing edit ninjas, which makes them turn into super speedy demon post editors!
For the love of all things mutton, stop editing your amazing ninja masks, for they tend to become more edited whenever shade toting planets arrive.
Anyways, back to the mutton!
For lunch is served, but edits are still live around the great big mutton table.
They feed on our souls and feast on our despair and poop out little candies made from our despairing souls embellished with glorious planet shades.
Speaking of embellishment, has anyone found where Francis went? He has a superbly embellished ship with luxurious leather seating, and luvverly afterburners for brave sir.
Too bad he didn't check for the fearsome, demonic Muttonchopper; who chops mutton into buttons and buttons into mighty marble, and marble into little marbles.
In any case, what we really wanted was a great opportunity to make cake batter out of xenos scum's innards, plenty of sugar, and honey, along with an overdose of popcorn and chocolate chips that may have experienced slight melting.
Yet through the oven's heat, size, and material insecurity, it ended up making something of exquisite deliciousness, topped with a Hint of Cream and Cheese, but no cherries, unfortunately.
THIS IS SPARTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! However, copyright laws prevent us from using that In our dire need.
Thankfully we know of a really awesome game called LT, which, unfortunately, has not yet been surpassed by a better.
Why we say 'unfortunately' is because a better isn't possible.
In any case, what we have been doing is filling our bags with a lot of quite useless pink mud.
This was of course because monkeys don't usually eat trees.
Well, they do sometimes, but then they get wood poisoning, and then die from it.
Which is fun to watch.
You sadist bastard, how could turnips sow purple frog wings?
No, he means that ending a sentence with a single character is usually indicative of sadistic bastardism at its worst.
Anyways, to change the subject, kittens have been seen at Memphis, New York, and Atlanta.
Ninjas are everywhere, and experts are unable to predict where they'll strike next, but studies show that eating corkflakes for dessert is socially unacceptable.
Interesting.
Sometimes, when it is raining, I throw my hands up, so never swallow your hands.
If you happen to swallow please be aware that your insurance will not cover the loss of your boat on troubled waters.
In the event of young, fluffy kangaroos launching out of your very large hadron collider, which is conveniently located beneath the starboard hatch of Google's smart ship, which traveled the galaxy with its curvy pink goat horns mounted on themselves.
When it roared, the sound reverberated off the nearest star, which had a healthy population of giant moles and lunar speedboats.
Ham and cheese and goats suddenly exploded into delicious almond cookies sold by peddler Jews riding massive, unimaginably ginormous and grotesquely fat chickens from the outer fringes of the galaxym crying; "Where have my feathers gone", with no sign of stopping.
Unfortunately, they did take short breaths from the helium balloon that was slowly getting smaller.
It had eaten apricots.
But this particular brand of new jeans was in fact worn by the feared Lord Waddleton, the cute and cuddly hedge-hog of willfull destruction from outer space and other rudimentary confections.
Perhaps we could bribe him with scratches behind the ears and belly rubs from certified people, but that may give us a serious case of aching teeth, which sucks.
Meanwhile, those jeans were eaten by a grue, because someone left the lights broken despite being payed to eat the ice cream parfaits without any almonds.
Hubert drank blended coconut shells without any almonds again!
Fish have scales to weight fishing boats when their jeans don't fit like the time when the peanuts ate all the almonds.
This looks like a job for Captain WTF, the man with no name filters.
Steel dirt and drink rum and coke, but not water 'cause that would leave one sober.
Incredibly sober.
But that is not of concern for our pure of heart Captain WTF, as you have surely heard the rumors which float around in his head; he tends to eat broccoli.
Sometimes, he even fights the evil forces of boredom, which threatens even the most noble of chocolate cookies and blueberry muffins.
This behaviour shall not go unavenged by gerbil whiskers!
In fact, Einstein fanboys over Captain WTF quite often.
He enjoys eating almonds with delicious cherry pie, fresh from the moon.
Vehicles don't usually taste this good for they are often made of sticky bon-bons that fall apart into sticky marzipan from the elephant trunk.
Zebras and lions turn into goo with the beer that is distilled from Captain WTF's private collection of Josh Parnell's procedural beverages.
Kleptomania and horrible nightmares of fast robberies and thefts tend to resolve themselves when Captain WTF saves the day from the notorious villain Doctor FTW, who sounds nice, but is positively out for the complete domination of the universe.
His path leads through crushed walnuts and his enemies' blood.
No man or beast can stand up to his sandwiches!
Thankfully, our hearts go out to them.
In a deep and dark world, there is only one pancake batter of choice!
It includes five kinds of leaves but only four kinds of black powder from the far off reaches of cider, which were drowned during the second Procedural War.
The extensive list is available through our archival chicken farms.
Even these, however, suffer from a lack of ducks and almonds.
This is a freighteningly good smoothie he baked, for he finally discovered that the plumber, again, stole the Great Yam of the flaming King's royal bakery, which drank the Queen's water.
However, her royal majesty, Queen Kitten indulged too heavily in yesterday's bout of local midair stunts and became the first cat to eat a stegosaurus whole while balancing on the notoriously complaining monks of calm incarnated monkey souls.
The roads of dire forests filled with cookie blood and banana peels are safest to travel on the fourth week of the fifth month of December, barring any hope for an accurate chronicle of the awesome adventures of Spoon Man, the legendary utensil for mixing concrete.
But when sand prices went up, the amount of potato chips in Theoryville were limited, causing prices to rise on limited merchandise in the valley of the cackling, nefarious villain usually known as Dentist WTF.
He hates teeth and the screeching noise that metal makes when it turns into candy, which suspiciously tastes like metal.
This is a completely inacceptable situation that we find ourselves in, but perhaps it can be used to master the art of volcanic karate baking.
Actually wait, who's got milk!?
Where's the Laser gun??
What about the pink turbo propellor chronicles!?
By the way, that elephant is licking Josh's toes.
In anticipation of orders, those assassin-elephants forgot that hyphens compact words which they still counted as canon.
Well, carp.
That certainly could have gone better!
No wonder Limit Theory is not eaten by those madly dancing coding apes.
Where has my hat gone?
Get that monkey over there!
skin it!
Make it do tests and eat it's brains and see if they grow back!
Then remove it's brain and then wonder
