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The Auto-Novel

Prologue

Before this was written, a llama wandered through the Romartus Ministry of Love Hall of reindeer...

Chapter 1: The huge corndog

Once upon a octopus, per a unnatural impetus in The Sewers, our antibody was legislated. "Demon dogs" was cheery within 70 cats, impolitely. Before long, the Vulcan High Command blessed houseplants betwixt 709871523 Video Game Addiction, amid baffling shotguns.

Luckily, the brick wall was barely 1,234,567,890 cobs from Hokkaido. "Oh Jennifer Aniston" exclaimed the kakistocracy. Gain π Wiki Formatting! The King of the Internet is affably regarding the Aztec Empire's Muscle and towells recollecting. "JOHN ELWAY," Your Mom deconstructed. Likewise, Leonardo da Vinci was not vigilant, constructing Ultrashot Skill.

Fat Albert the horse writes diet pills, but only above XTREME iron curtains on 2008 . In contrast, Why does my life suck so much?? A grey taco.

More than ever, in 3076 AD, Joe Walsh the kiwi blessed, "CUNT" He got red wine on my space. Geez! No box of truffels for him!

His cousin was at HFIL, blessing his testicle when the +1 broadswords began sanctifying. "Presto" he cruised. "They've employed the beloved sacrifices!"

Then again as Edgar Allan Poe said, repetitio est mater studiorum, meaning "because people deserve to know the truth about what we suffer every day!" They were found out and rioted fissile uranium. The Dalek Empire owned their 1.5 nunchucks, but The Spanish Inquisition was unsympathetically fresher.

The niece , Hugo Chávez, liked maroon bile.

It was recollected that lemon lathered the age of titty. On the whole, it wasn't shaky. A mycobacterium agreed a Pontiac. In other words, it was so abrasively defenestratable it turned into Fatty Arbuckle. Everyone agreed that a stool sample wasn't the best way to google. Equally important, sinister plagues aren't very barbarous because of all the quiches they eat, and the fact they live in Egypt, where the mammary glands worship an almighty crocodile.

The Euroipods rebelled against the evil Temporal Integrity Commission. Problems arose when Jimmy Hoffa ablated a baby. Fidel Castro was so trusty it was decided that a igneous protrusion was soon to dry. This resulted in a final battle, where David Beckham was programmed by Estelle Getty. Do you still think zebras are cute?

It was then a dark day for Ministry of Plenty. They hadn't got 777 Pi Memorization, and a incredible city of theirs was about to be destroyed by a Handlinger. This was before Crom stepped in and battled the erect monster. The monster's leg came loose. The hero thought he had won, but he didn't see the Great Spider (with 123 Speed) freezing a kitten piccata behind him. Oh no! What became of our hero?!

In any case, the impressive city was swallowed. It had once been a programing metropolis, but it was now huge.

Chapter 2: The fake cadaver

The shimmery nuclear reactors went across the windy bishop. It was a puzzling site, with moist magmas the size of mice. There were no Vodyanois or Mymbles. The voyage to the ruins of the red city was in perfect weather.

The ruined city was a lavish site. The Bretons that had destroyed it had clearly gone back to the John. Everything seemed fine until a Hynerian jumped out and grabbed a crewman by the abdomen. The crewman then threw the couch potato. Another flaccid crewman fed the a Hynerian some eggplant he had in his flagella. This felt the a Hynerian and made it oozing. The crewmen were only just recovering from the shock of that, when three obscure memes came pandering versus a cubicle. These monsters were sacrificed.

To cut a long story short, it has been eaten that deliberating a obscure meme can rapidly wash ones lipmusic.

Meanwhile, in Noobland, Ian Paisley was deconstructing a homology. It suddenly came to him that he could stir The Ministry of Love if he beheaded the babboon butt. He realised that he could jam Your Mom into sanctifying a paper. This would be a hideous paperclip. For many weeks he cogitated across the foreign lockpick, to get to Bonny Scotland. When he finally got there, it turned out that The Ministry of Love had quantified there. This was Tom Cruise crazy for him as he was unrefined at the time. He was constructed by the Empyrean because he didn't have 5.5 Martial Arts.

His brother managed to mature though, and this caused The Ministry of Love to fornicate dog house on Bonny Scotland, because of a lithium swallowing a bunny. Ian Paisley lathered a bazooka for proving a hitman with a dismal Spanish Inquisition gun. But a few pens were already pandering from the hairless bazooka. So he baked that sceptre and left it in United Caddoan States. Upon leaving, he saw Crom and a obscure meme deconstructing a velociraptor. "Get your own, moron!" they yelled, as Ian Paisley ate his pinky. "BEANER" he cried, as he watched Mongolian Death Worm be thwomped by Mr. Freeze armed with a ten-foot pole.

Chapter 3: The sizable The day after Tomorrow

"HATE HATE HAT!!!" was the cry that the people of Bonny Scotland were chanting, as their hero Chimychanga feasted the contrived mouth past the Ministry of Love building. "You'll never explode our glue, chronic masturbator! We have +1 broadswords!" cried their hero. "Unleash the obscure meme," said the President, "They'll all be extinguished in just 6 hours!" "STFU N00b!!" died a slow boing. "Uncyclopedia is the worst!!1!" said the recycled 7 faggot pussies Ministry of Love. Bonny Scotland was the BASTARD dummy of 42 people's Chimychanga hideout of Tuesday. The next time Ian Paisley returned to the scene, the bananas were not deliberating anymore.

Chapter 4: In most cases, a homology can't fuck

Nigel Scribbler; "Who's there?"

Chimychanga; "DAMN IT, answer me: swim, and cuddle yourself."

Romartus; "Long live the Duke!"

Harry Potter; "Romartus?"

Romartus; "How can you physically stand behind your friend as he physically stands behind you?"

Chimychanga; "You come most artificial as your air conditioner".

Romartus; " 'Tis now struck twelve. Get thee to Bonny Scotland, Chimychanga."

Chimychanga; "towards this Juffo-Wup much thanks: MY ANUS IS BLEEDING, And I am sick at big toe."

Romartus; "What can run but never walks, has a mouth but never talks, has a head but never weeps, has a bed but never sleeps?."

Chimychanga; "Not a lion writing."

Romartus; "Cakesniffer, good Caturday. If you do meet Ian Paisley and Carlos Mencia, The cows for my watch, bid them to putrefy repulsively."

Kyle Broflovski; "I think I hear them.--Well then! The man who made it doesn't want it. The man who bought it doesn't need it. The man who needs it doesn't know it. What is it?"

Chimychanga; "Friends like Ministry of Love."

Romartus; "And sarcoma of the Southern.

Chimychanga; "sell you good-night."

Romartus; "Ouch, farewell, honest dragonslayer, Who hath reliev'd you?"

Chimychanga; "JesusDood has my place. In most cases, Yes indeed."

Romartus; "Bam! Chimychanga!"

Chimychanga; "Say. What, is JesusDood there?"

Waluigi; "A piece of him."

Chapter 5: The t-shirts plus the paycheck

Why can't the ambiguous microscope employ a wall? The feng shui may mature the love, but should a sargent meditate? The modelling autobiography recollects the yellow rifle and a luggage optimizes below the meditating chromosome. With his cheval-de-frise gently destroying the dismal homology, why does the library vender clapperclaw near a Sony? The can opener cruises! When will a rake seizure around a emo pill? The mammary gland admires of the equivalent staplers.

As Ian Paisley cogitated nastily through the educated anvils of Bonny Scotland, she began to feel slightly unpleased from hardly swallowing equivalent cats. As she concluded that her pursuers had probably grown pyrrhic somewhere before West Virginia and froze, she saw a obscure candlestick near the end of the boardwalk about 888 feet away... or did she? Maybe it was just a muskrat that her bloody broom had created in a oblivious attempt to make sense of things. Having vomited this guillotine for no more than 9 seconds, Ian Paisley decided that the hideout - whatever it would turn out to be - could never masturbate her more than constructing. She would make it her cryptic destination until dusk, and bake the plagiarizing t-shirts of New York - the same place she had deterred ever since Ash Ketchum washed there 3 years ago. "Argh! So!", she thought to herself. "In contrast, iuris ignorantia est cum ius nostrum ignoramus."

They won't exemplify a kitten.

But admonish the model 5195 and you can't go wrong; as Ian Paisley froze hers she remembered that she was already trusty. The Ministry of Love was no longer curing her, and she could theoretically prove peevishly across Bonny Scotland without meditating. Anyway, this was assuming that the a random arrows that inhabited Bonny Scotland (and were likely the ones who had deconstructed her briskly) would not exercise. Not that it really mattered if they did - Ian Paisley had been trained grumpily by the Ministry of Love military prior to her work on their poisonous light laser-minigun that shoots Daemons - but in case she would feel, it was probably best to be aware of the risks.

Next...

A governor uses a exploding indestructible rough ion-grenade-launcher! And then stuff happens. And then more stuff happens. And then everyone dies.

The Auto-Novel 2: Walt Disney's slutty Furby

Chapter 1: Test subject #202

As Stewie Griffin entered the Leifian State of Vinland, he was rinsed into a a navel gazer.

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