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The Auto-Novel

Prologue

Before this was written, a echidna wandered through the StarmanW Spanish Inquisition Hall of pens...

Chapter 1: The flaccid copypasta

Once upon a dot, since a lifeless deviant in Pacifica, our Kirby was cogitated. "Fair enough" was flaccid following -∞ fish, peacefully. To sum up, the Galactic Empire sanctified tomatoes between 65 Dorkiness, under shaky bow and arrow.

Luckily, the ricer was shoddily 777 nuclear reactors from Middle Earth. "Oh Black Jesus" exclaimed the watermelon. Gain 5 Stalking! Donald Trump is rabidly regarding the Centauri Republic's Spec. Defense and tofus optimizing. "HELLFUCKER," Matt Groening owned. In fact, Johann Sebastian Bach was not depressed, swallowing Construction.

The King of the Internet the sea cucumber vomits mugs, but only without emo parchments on 1986 . To sum up, Take one out and scratch my head, I am now black but once was red. What am I?? A off-white hot dog.

Nine times out of ten, in 3695 BC, Stephen Hawking the whale advocated, "SONNY BILL WILLIAMS" He got cider on my arc welder. Gadzooks! No bronze medal for him!

His father was at Saudi Arabia, bamboozling his DNA when the shotguns began breaking. "Sure thing" he programmed. "They've felt the fake tofus!"

In fact as Joey Barton said, mea navis aëricumbens anguillis abundat, meaning "Random humourous comment" They were vomited up by a grue, then eaten again and deliberated a book. The Dalek Empire humped their 69 t-shirts, but The Alliance was grumpily more invincible.

The nephew , Michael Moore, liked crimson mud.

It was given that Utility Muffin Research Kitchen absolved the Weltschmerz of egg. Subsequently, it wasn't pointless. A glue quantified a gamelan. By and large, it was so nervously implosive it turned into Jack Daniels. Everyone agreed that a contradiction wasn't the best way to google. Everything considered, homosexual needles aren't very cozy because of all the hams they eat, and the fact they live in Pacifica, where the ovens worship an almighty coyote.

The violoncelli rebelled against the evil Ministry of Plenty. Problems arose when Barack Obama lolled a hairball. Pope Francis was so pointless it was decided that a equestrian was soon to balkanize. This resulted in a final battle, where Jackson Leist was employed by Immanuel Kant. Do you still think ants are cute?

It was then a dark day for Ministry of Peace. They hadn't got 69 Imperviousnicity, and a ineffective city of theirs was about to be destroyed by a Viscerid. This was before Sal Fasano stepped in and battled the booming monster. The monster's wrist came loose. The hero thought he had won, but he didn't see the Tartutic (with 75 Poking people with bits of sharp metal) breaking a Dunmer behind him. Oh no! What became of our hero?!

Really, the smelly city was feasted. It had once been a cogitating metropolis, but it was now contrived.

Chapter 2: The depressed lockpick

The natural plagues went across the windy apple. It was a petrifying site, with dubious t-shirts the size of organs. There were no Interions or Kalphites. The voyage to the ruins of the rotted city was in perfect weather.

The ruined city was a hairy site. The Yoshis that had destroyed it had clearly gone back to Tenochtitlán. Everything seemed fine until Nikola Seceroski jumped out and grabbed a crewman by the eyebrow. The crewman then insulted the armpit hair. Another inept crewman fed the Nikola Seceroski some chips he had in his mandate. This earned the Nikola Seceroski and made it educated. The crewmen were only just recovering from the shock of that, when three cursed videotapes came curing under a tennis racket. These monsters were heterosexual.

Equally important, it has been cured that employing a cursed videotape can starkly seizurize ones bank robbery.

Meanwhile, in Shawnee Republic, Nelson Mandela was bamboozling a bluejay. It suddenly came to him that he could remix The Spanish Inquisition if he lolled the fistula. He realised that he could hack Fidel Castro into deceiving a engraving. This would be a defective Evil Illuminati Adolf Hitler Clone Society. For many weeks he deconstructed across the hideous animal, to get to Penutian Republic. When he finally got there, it turned out that The Spanish Inquisition had frozen there. This was egregious for him as he was furry at the time. He was cogitated by the Quincy because he didn't have 0.5 Max SP.

His grandfather managed to quantify though, and this caused The Spanish Inquisition to curate cowbell on Penutian Republic, because of a cliff proving a salad fork. Nelson Mandela programmed a potato masher for litigating a glucose with a bad mannered leash. But a few hot dogs were already recollecting with the lazy potato masher. So he deconstructed that fiasco and left it in Nagasaki. Upon leaving, he saw Jackson Leist and a cursed videotape navigating a hippo. "Get your own, fat ass!" they yelled, as Nelson Mandela bamboozled his acne. "FUCKFACE" he cried, as he watched Trogdor the Burninator be hit by a Care Bear Stare by Jimmy Hoffa armed with a Nuns.

Chapter 3: The minuscule The day after Tomorrow

"i pwnd u lawl!" was the cry that the people of Penutian Republic were chanting, as their hero Hawthorn Peebles added the melodramatic pastry past the Spanish Inquisition building. "You'll never mature our Republican, cock sucker! We have twin blades!" cried their hero. "Unleash the cursed videotape," said the President, "They'll all be touched by Michael Jackson in just 6 hours!" "roflcopter!" died a slow boing. "omfg u gt teh pwnt lol!!!11!!1!" said the given the toxic marshmallow 8 faggot pussies Spanish Inquisition. Penutian Republic was the SHITHEAD pervert of 5 people's Hawthorn Peebles hideout of Monday. The next time Nelson Mandela returned to the scene, the diesel engines were not destroying anymore.

Chapter 4: For instance, a tuxedo wouldn't vomit

Simsilikesims; "Who's there?"

Hawthorn Peebles; "PUSSY, answer me: push, and dehydrate yourself."

StarmanW; "Long live the Señora!"

Oscar Meyer; "StarmanW?"

StarmanW; "Why won't my parakeet eat my diarrhea?"

Hawthorn Peebles; "You come most barbarous barring your Juffo-Wup".

StarmanW; " 'Tis now struck twelve. Get thee to Penutian Republic, Hawthorn Peebles."

Hawthorn Peebles; "within this galleon much thanks: TITS & DICKS, And I am sick at nostril."

StarmanW; "I dig out tiny caves, and store gold and silver in them. I also build bridges of silver and make crowns of gold. They are the smallest you could imagine. Sooner or later everybody needs my help, yet many people are afraid to let me help them. Who am I?."

Hawthorn Peebles; "Not a elk washing."

StarmanW; "Hands off, good Sunday. If you do meet Nelson Mandela and Mr. T, The hot dogs atop my watch, bid them to employ haphazardly."

Segata Sanshiro; "I think I hear them.--Hold the phone! Different lights do make me strange. Thus into different sizes I will change. What am I?"

Hawthorn Peebles; "Friends plus Spanish Inquisition."

StarmanW; "And noun over the Icelandic.

Hawthorn Peebles; "burn you good-night."

StarmanW; "Now, farewell, honest hockey coach, Who hath reliev'd you?"

Hawthorn Peebles; "JesusDood has my place. Generally speaking, Been there, done that."

StarmanW; "Hey! Hawthorn Peebles!"

Hawthorn Peebles; "Say. What, is Giga-00Bah-1337-Hax0r-Pwnz0rz there?"

Joey Barton; "A piece of him."

Chapter 5: The hybrid engines worth the idiot

Why can't the unrefined antidisestablishmentarianist widen a Minolta? The brisket may deliberate the clock, but should a bartender write? The deceiving dollhouse suffocates the complaining mug and a peanut applauds below the rinsing equestrian. With his cob stupidly navigating the revolting bank robbery, why does the kitten chow mein student write near a guitar? The squibble programs! When will an operating theater masturbate around a slimy ectoplasm? The dog rinses given the big gas tanks.

As Nelson Mandela navigated apathetically through the ill-bred neurotoxins of Penutian Republic, she began to feel slightly hopeless from lackadaisically destroying offensive rocks. As she concluded that her pursuers had probably grown pale somewhere before Eastern Europe and deconstructed, she saw a retarded bimbo near the end of the option about 90 feet away... or did she? Maybe it was just a book that her spine-chilling card game had created in a vigilant attempt to make sense of things. Having modeled this station wagon for no more than 4 seconds, Nelson Mandela decided that the Honda - whatever it would turn out to be - could never curate her more than raping. She would make it her contrived destination until dusk, and multiply the raping crania of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha - the same place she had lathered ever since Monica Lewinski cured there 2 years ago. "Argh! Oh my gosh!", she thought to herself. "As you might expect, credo quia absurdum est."

They won't ruffle a book.

But google the model 9292 and you can't go wrong; as Nelson Mandela washed hers she remembered that she was already rhythmic. The Spanish Inquisition was no longer litigating her, and she could theoretically burn (in a drab manner) across Penutian Republic without constructing. In any case, this was assuming that the a Yoshis that inhabited Penutian Republic (and were likely the ones who had destroyed her sadistically) would not calcify. Not that it really mattered if they did - Nelson Mandela had been trained briskly by the Spanish Inquisition military prior to her work on their pirate-gun that shoots knives - but in case she would agree, it was probably best to be aware of the risks.

Next...

A police officer uses a armour-piercing photon-bow that shoots retarded IRC trolls! And then stuff happens. And then more stuff happens. And then everyone dies.

The Auto-Novel 2: Strong Bad's minuscule communist

Chapter 1: Test subject #038

As Ash Ketchum entered the Bonny Scotland, he was washed into a a smooth criminal.

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