Next sentence game

[MacHeadCase]

Ok let's start a game where we build a story by adding one sentence at a time with the ones above your post. For easier reading, please repeat the sentences from the beginning otherwise we can't follow the story in its entirety.

So lemme begin then...


"An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by...

[Mark Milian]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue...

[MacHeadCase]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

[MaDDoG]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air.

[MacHeadCase]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk.

[MaDDoG]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley.

[MacHeadCase]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult.

[MaDDoG]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

[MacHeadCase]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles.

[MaDDoG]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.
Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road.

[Mac0sXuser]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.
Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier.

[MaDDoG]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.
Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum, all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of met on the bone.

[Mac0sXuser]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.
Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum. all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of met on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place.

[MaDDoG]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.
Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

[MacHeadCase]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

[Kilted]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind.

[MacHeadCase]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself.

[Mac0sXuser]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

[MacHeadCase]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

[MaDDoG]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."
There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest.

[MacHeadCase]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that!

[MaDDoG]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that! Tony pulled down his ninja mask and said,"

[MacHeadCase]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that!

Tony pulled down his ninja mask and said, "I wish my stoopid eyes were blue, that way I'd be sure to become a star".

[MaDDoG]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that!

Tony pulled down his ninja mask and said, "I wish my stoopid eyes were blue, that way I'd be sure to become a star".
Tony stood there transfixed at the mirror trying imagine himself with blue eyes.

[MacHeadCase]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that!

Tony pulled down his ninja mask and said, "I wish my stoopid eyes were blue, that way I'd be sure to become a star".

Tony stood there transfixed at the mirror trying imagine himself with blue eyes. Then, it hit him: "I need an agent!"

[MaDDoG]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that!

Tony pulled down his ninja mask and said, "I wish my stoopid eyes were blue, that way I'd be sure to become a star".

Tony stood there transfixed at the mirror trying imagine himself with blue eyes. Then, it hit him: "I need an agent!" But where do I find one and if I find one how will he manage me wondered Tony as he set off in search of anyone that could help him.

[MacHeadCase]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that!

Tony pulled down his ninja mask and said, "I wish my stoopid eyes were blue, that way I'd be sure to become a star".

Tony stood there transfixed at the mirror trying imagine himself with blue eyes. Then, it hit him: "I need an agent! But where do I find one and if I find one how will he manage me" wondered Tony as he set off in search of anyone that could help him. "Besides", he mused, "if he's mean to me I'll have a very hard time stopping myself from stinging him good."

[MaDDoG]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that!

Tony pulled down his ninja mask and said, "I wish my stoopid eyes were blue, that way I'd be sure to become a star".

Tony stood there transfixed at the mirror trying imagine himself with blue eyes. Then, it hit him: "I need an agent! But where do I find one and if I find one how will he manage me" wondered Tony as he set off in search of anyone that could help him. "Besides", he mused, "if he's mean to me I'll have a very hard time stopping myself from stinging him good."
Tony set off in his quest with a rhythmic hum emanating from his happy wings.

[MacHeadCase]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that!

Tony pulled down his ninja mask and said, "I wish my stoopid eyes were blue, that way I'd be sure to become a star".

Tony stood there transfixed at the mirror trying imagine himself with blue eyes. Then, it hit him: "I need an agent! But where do I find one and if I find one how will he manage me" wondered Tony as he set off in search of anyone that could help him. "Besides", he mused, "if he's mean to me I'll have a very hard time stopping myself from stinging him good."

Tony set off in his quest with a rhythmic hum emanating from his happy wings.

He thought he could use a little speed increase (and why not? Grab some shuteye at the same time...) so he fastened on his Nuclear Powered All Terrain Flying Cape™ and zoomed out into the sunset.

[MaDDoG]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that!

Tony pulled down his ninja mask and said, "I wish my stoopid eyes were blue, that way I'd be sure to become a star".

Tony stood there transfixed at the mirror trying imagine himself with blue eyes. Then, it hit him: "I need an agent! But where do I find one and if I find one how will he manage me" wondered Tony as he set off in search of anyone that could help him. "Besides", he mused, "if he's mean to me I'll have a very hard time stopping myself from stinging him good."

Tony set off in his quest with a rhythmic hum emanating from his happy wings.

He thought he could use a little speed increase (and why not? Grab some shuteye at the same time...) so he fastened on his Nuclear Powered All Terrain Flying Cape™ and zoomed out into the sunset. Being sunset there lots of other insects flying busily about.

[Rxx]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that!

Tony pulled down his ninja mask and said, "I wish my stoopid eyes were blue, that way I'd be sure to become a star".

Tony stood there transfixed at the mirror trying imagine himself with blue eyes. Then, it hit him: "I need an agent! But where do I find one and if I find one how will he manage me" wondered Tony as he set off in search of anyone that could help him. "Besides", he mused, "if he's mean to me I'll have a very hard time stopping myself from stinging him good."

Tony set off in his quest with a rhythmic hum emanating from his happy wings.

He thought he could use a little speed increase (and why not? Grab some shuteye at the same time...) so he fastened on his Nuclear Powered All Terrain Flying Cape™ and zoomed out into the sunset. Being sunset there lots of other insects flying busily about. But luckily they were all on break, because MHC and Maddog were writing the last ten sentences of the story for them, so he arrived to his destination in no time at all.

[MaDDoG]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that!

Tony pulled down his ninja mask and said, "I wish my stoopid eyes were blue, that way I'd be sure to become a star".

Tony stood there transfixed at the mirror trying imagine himself with blue eyes. Then, it hit him: "I need an agent! But where do I find one and if I find one how will he manage me" wondered Tony as he set off in search of anyone that could help him. "Besides", he mused, "if he's mean to me I'll have a very hard time stopping myself from stinging him good."

Tony set off in his quest with a rhythmic hum emanating from his happy wings.

He thought he could use a little speed increase (and why not? Grab some shuteye at the same time...) so he fastened on his Nuclear Powered All Terrain Flying Cape™ and zoomed out into the sunset. Being sunset there lots of other insects flying busily about. But luckily they were all on break, because MHC and Maddog were writing the last ten sentences of the story for them, so he arrived to his destination in no time at all. That is all except one who couldn't read or hear very well.

[MaDDoG]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that!

Tony pulled down his ninja mask and said, "I wish my stoopid eyes were blue, that way I'd be sure to become a star".

Tony stood there transfixed at the mirror trying imagine himself with blue eyes. Then, it hit him: "I need an agent! But where do I find one and if I find one how will he manage me" wondered Tony as he set off in search of anyone that could help him. "Besides", he mused, "if he's mean to me I'll have a very hard time stopping myself from stinging him good."

Tony set off in his quest with a rhythmic hum emanating from his happy wings.

He thought he could use a little speed increase (and why not? Grab some shuteye at the same time...) so he fastened on his Nuclear Powered All Terrain Flying Cape™ and zoomed out into the sunset. Being sunset there lots of other insects flying busily about. But luckily they were all on break, because MHC and Maddog were writing the last ten sentences of the story for them, so he arrived to his destination in no time at all. That is all except one who couldn't read or hear very well. As Tony approached the insect mall he didn't notice the approach of a large dark shadow, mainly because he had his iPod (insect pod) playing his fave tunes and was zoned out listening to them.

[MacHeadCase]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that!

Tony pulled down his ninja mask and said, "I wish my stoopid eyes were blue, that way I'd be sure to become a star".

Tony stood there transfixed at the mirror trying imagine himself with blue eyes. Then, it hit him: "I need an agent! But where do I find one and if I find one how will he manage me" wondered Tony as he set off in search of anyone that could help him. "Besides", he mused, "if he's mean to me I'll have a very hard time stopping myself from stinging him good."

Tony set off in his quest with a rhythmic hum emanating from his happy wings.

He thought he could use a little speed increase (and why not? Grab some shuteye at the same time...) so he fastened on his Nuclear Powered All Terrain Flying Cape™ and zoomed out into the sunset. Being sunset there lots of other insects flying busily about. But luckily they were all on break, because MHC and Maddog were writing the last ten sentences of the story for them, so he arrived to his destination in no time at all. That is all except one who couldn't read or hear very well. As Tony approached the insect mall he didn't notice the approach of a large dark shadow, mainly because he had his iPod (insect pod) playing his fave tunes and was zoned out listening to them.

He looked up as he noticed the shadow on the ground at his feet (paws? Insect legs?) but he was blinded by the sun and all he could see was a huge (for a bumble bee that is) black form and all he knew was that it was the shape of a bird.

[MaDDoG]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that!

Tony pulled down his ninja mask and said, "I wish my stoopid eyes were blue, that way I'd be sure to become a star".

Tony stood there transfixed at the mirror trying imagine himself with blue eyes. Then, it hit him: "I need an agent! But where do I find one and if I find one how will he manage me" wondered Tony as he set off in search of anyone that could help him. "Besides", he mused, "if he's mean to me I'll have a very hard time stopping myself from stinging him good."

Tony set off in his quest with a rhythmic hum emanating from his happy wings.

He thought he could use a little speed increase (and why not? Grab some shuteye at the same time...) so he fastened on his Nuclear Powered All Terrain Flying Cape™ and zoomed out into the sunset. Being sunset there lots of other insects flying busily about. But luckily they were all on break, because MHC and Maddog were writing the last ten sentences of the story for them, so he arrived to his destination in no time at all. That is all except one who couldn't read or hear very well. As Tony approached the insect mall he didn't notice the approach of a large dark shadow, mainly because he had his iPod (insect pod) playing his fave tunes and was zoned out listening to them.

He looked up as he noticed the shadow on the ground at his feet (paws? Insect legs?) but he was blinded by the sun and all he could see was a huge (for a bumble bee that is) black form and all he knew was that it was the shape of a bird.
Tony's survival instincts immediately kicked into gear and he dived for safety as fast as his puny under done wings would take him but before he got to safety the shadow loomed even larger.

[MacHeadCase]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that!

Tony pulled down his ninja mask and said, "I wish my stoopid eyes were blue, that way I'd be sure to become a star".

Tony stood there transfixed at the mirror trying imagine himself with blue eyes. Then, it hit him: "I need an agent! But where do I find one and if I find one how will he manage me" wondered Tony as he set off in search of anyone that could help him. "Besides", he mused, "if he's mean to me I'll have a very hard time stopping myself from stinging him good."

Tony set off in his quest with a rhythmic hum emanating from his happy wings.

He thought he could use a little speed increase (and why not? Grab some shuteye at the same time...) so he fastened on his Nuclear Powered All Terrain Flying Cape™ and zoomed out into the sunset. Being sunset there lots of other insects flying busily about. But luckily they were all on break, because MHC and Maddog were writing the last ten sentences of the story for them, so he arrived to his destination in no time at all. That is all except one who couldn't read or hear very well. As Tony approached the insect mall he didn't notice the approach of a large dark shadow, mainly because he had his iPod (insect pod) playing his fave tunes and was zoned out listening to them.

He looked up as he noticed the shadow on the ground at his feet (paws? Insect legs?) but he was blinded by the sun and all he could see was a huge (for a bumble bee that is) black form and all he knew was that it was the shape of a bird.

Tony's survival instincts immediately kicked into gear and he dived for safety as fast as his puny under done wings would take him but before he got to safety the shadow loomed even larger.

Tony heard a loud squawk a few inches above his head, quickly followed by "Hey! Didn't you want an agent or what? Is this a bad time? I can come back later if you want..."

[MaDDoG]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that!

Tony pulled down his ninja mask and said, "I wish my stoopid eyes were blue, that way I'd be sure to become a star".

Tony stood there transfixed at the mirror trying imagine himself with blue eyes. Then, it hit him: "I need an agent! But where do I find one and if I find one how will he manage me" wondered Tony as he set off in search of anyone that could help him. "Besides", he mused, "if he's mean to me I'll have a very hard time stopping myself from stinging him good."

Tony set off in his quest with a rhythmic hum emanating from his happy wings.

He thought he could use a little speed increase (and why not? Grab some shuteye at the same time...) so he fastened on his Nuclear Powered All Terrain Flying Cape™ and zoomed out into the sunset. Being sunset there lots of other insects flying busily about. But luckily they were all on break, because MHC and Maddog were writing the last ten sentences of the story for them, so he arrived to his destination in no time at all. That is all except one who couldn't read or hear very well. As Tony approached the insect mall he didn't notice the approach of a large dark shadow, mainly because he had his iPod (insect pod) playing his fave tunes and was zoned out listening to them.

He looked up as he noticed the shadow on the ground at his feet (paws? Insect legs?) but he was blinded by the sun and all he could see was a huge (for a bumble bee that is) black form and all he knew was that it was the shape of a bird.

Tony's survival instincts immediately kicked into gear and he dived for safety as fast as his puny under done wings would take him but before he got to safety the shadow loomed even larger.

Tony heard a loud squawk a few inches above his head, quickly followed by "Hey! Didn't you want an agent or what? Is this a bad time? I can come back later if you want..."
Tony pulled out his dive for life saving freedom and commenced climbing towards the shadowy figure.

[Mac0sXuser]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that!

Tony pulled down his ninja mask and said, "I wish my stoopid eyes were blue, that way I'd be sure to become a star".

Tony stood there transfixed at the mirror trying imagine himself with blue eyes. Then, it hit him: "I need an agent! But where do I find one and if I find one how will he manage me" wondered Tony as he set off in search of anyone that could help him. "Besides", he mused, "if he's mean to me I'll have a very hard time stopping myself from stinging him good."

Tony set off in his quest with a rhythmic hum emanating from his happy wings.

He thought he could use a little speed increase (and why not? Grab some shuteye at the same time...) so he fastened on his Nuclear Powered All Terrain Flying Cape™ and zoomed out into the sunset. Being sunset there lots of other insects flying busily about. But luckily they were all on break, because MHC and Maddog were writing the last ten sentences of the story for them, so he arrived to his destination in no time at all. That is all except one who couldn't read or hear very well. As Tony approached the insect mall he didn't notice the approach of a large dark shadow, mainly because he had his iPod (insect pod) playing his fave tunes and was zoned out listening to them.

He looked up as he noticed the shadow on the ground at his feet (paws? Insect legs?) but he was blinded by the sun and all he could see was a huge (for a bumble bee that is) black form and all he knew was that it was the shape of a bird.

Tony's survival instincts immediately kicked into gear and he dived for safety as fast as his puny under done wings would take him but before he got to safety the shadow loomed even larger.

Tony heard a loud squawk a few inches above his head, quickly followed by "Hey! Didn't you want an agent or what? Is this a bad time? I can come back later if you want..."
Tony pulled out his dive for life saving freedom and commenced climbing towards the shadowy figure. In front of him he saw a robin with a bright green mohawk

[MaDDoG]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that!

Tony pulled down his ninja mask and said, "I wish my stoopid eyes were blue, that way I'd be sure to become a star".

Tony stood there transfixed at the mirror trying imagine himself with blue eyes. Then, it hit him: "I need an agent! But where do I find one and if I find one how will he manage me" wondered Tony as he set off in search of anyone that could help him. "Besides", he mused, "if he's mean to me I'll have a very hard time stopping myself from stinging him good."

Tony set off in his quest with a rhythmic hum emanating from his happy wings.

He thought he could use a little speed increase (and why not? Grab some shuteye at the same time...) so he fastened on his Nuclear Powered All Terrain Flying Cape™ and zoomed out into the sunset. Being sunset there lots of other insects flying busily about. But luckily they were all on break, because MHC and Maddog were writing the last ten sentences of the story for them, so he arrived to his destination in no time at all. That is all except one who couldn't read or hear very well. As Tony approached the insect mall he didn't notice the approach of a large dark shadow, mainly because he had his iPod (insect pod) playing his fave tunes and was zoned out listening to them.

He looked up as he noticed the shadow on the ground at his feet (paws? Insect legs?) but he was blinded by the sun and all he could see was a huge (for a bumble bee that is) black form and all he knew was that it was the shape of a bird.

Tony's survival instincts immediately kicked into gear and he dived for safety as fast as his puny under done wings would take him but before he got to safety the shadow loomed even larger.

Tony heard a loud squawk a few inches above his head, quickly followed by "Hey! Didn't you want an agent or what? Is this a bad time? I can come back later if you want..."
Tony pulled out his dive for life saving freedom and commenced climbing towards the shadowy figure. In front of him he saw a robin with a bright green mohawk. Of course he new immediately that this was either a Woody Allen film or the the seeds he ate before were from the forbidden bush and he was now hallucinating.

[MacHeadCase]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that!

Tony pulled down his ninja mask and said, "I wish my stoopid eyes were blue, that way I'd be sure to become a star".

Tony stood there transfixed at the mirror trying imagine himself with blue eyes. Then, it hit him: "I need an agent! But where do I find one and if I find one how will he manage me" wondered Tony as he set off in search of anyone that could help him. "Besides", he mused, "if he's mean to me I'll have a very hard time stopping myself from stinging him good."

Tony set off in his quest with a rhythmic hum emanating from his happy wings.

He thought he could use a little speed increase (and why not? Grab some shuteye at the same time...) so he fastened on his Nuclear Powered All Terrain Flying Cape™ and zoomed out into the sunset. Being sunset there lots of other insects flying busily about. But luckily they were all on break, because MHC and Maddog were writing the last ten sentences of the story for them, so he arrived to his destination in no time at all. That is all except one who couldn't read or hear very well. As Tony approached the insect mall he didn't notice the approach of a large dark shadow, mainly because he had his iPod (insect pod) playing his fave tunes and was zoned out listening to them.

He looked up as he noticed the shadow on the ground at his feet (paws? Insect legs?) but he was blinded by the sun and all he could see was a huge (for a bumble bee that is) black form and all he knew was that it was the shape of a bird.

Tony's survival instincts immediately kicked into gear and he dived for safety as fast as his puny under done wings would take him but before he got to safety the shadow loomed even larger.

Tony heard a loud squawk a few inches above his head, quickly followed by "Hey! Didn't you want an agent or what? Is this a bad time? I can come back later if you want..."

Tony pulled out his dive for life saving freedom and commenced climbing towards the shadowy figure. In front of him he saw a robin with a bright green mohawk. Of course he new immediately that this was either a Woody Allen film or the the seeds he ate before were from the forbidden bush and he was now hallucinating.

But then it hit him, the robin was from a new species they had just found off the Maldives, the Johnnyus Rottenus and Tony knew that if he needed an over-the-top gutsy agent to get him gigs, this bugger was sure to be the real deal.

[MaDDoG]

ah the Maldives reminisced the old man in the rocking chair as his mind wandered from the tale he was telling his grand children.

[Mac0sXuser]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that!

Tony pulled down his ninja mask and said, "I wish my stoopid eyes were blue, that way I'd be sure to become a star".

Tony stood there transfixed at the mirror trying imagine himself with blue eyes. Then, it hit him: "I need an agent! But where do I find one and if I find one how will he manage me" wondered Tony as he set off in search of anyone that could help him. "Besides", he mused, "if he's mean to me I'll have a very hard time stopping myself from stinging him good."

Tony set off in his quest with a rhythmic hum emanating from his happy wings.

He thought he could use a little speed increase (and why not? Grab some shuteye at the same time...) so he fastened on his Nuclear Powered All Terrain Flying Cape™ and zoomed out into the sunset. Being sunset there lots of other insects flying busily about. But luckily they were all on break, because MHC and Maddog were writing the last ten sentences of the story for them, so he arrived to his destination in no time at all. That is all except one who couldn't read or hear very well. As Tony approached the insect mall he didn't notice the approach of a large dark shadow, mainly because he had his iPod (insect pod) playing his fave tunes and was zoned out listening to them.

He looked up as he noticed the shadow on the ground at his feet (paws? Insect legs?) but he was blinded by the sun and all he could see was a huge (for a bumble bee that is) black form and all he knew was that it was the shape of a bird.

Tony's survival instincts immediately kicked into gear and he dived for safety as fast as his puny under done wings would take him but before he got to safety the shadow loomed even larger.

Tony heard a loud squawk a few inches above his head, quickly followed by "Hey! Didn't you want an agent or what? Is this a bad time? I can come back later if you want..."

Tony pulled out his dive for life saving freedom and commenced climbing towards the shadowy figure. In front of him he saw a robin with a bright green mohawk. Of course he new immediately that this was either a Woody Allen film or the the seeds he ate before were from the forbidden bush and he was now hallucinating.

But then it hit him, the robin was from a new species they had just found off the Maldives, the Johnnyus Rottenus and Tony knew that if he needed an over-the-top gutsy agent to get him gigs, this bugger was sure to be the real deal.
Ah the Maldives reminisced the old man in the rocking chair as his mind wandered from the tale he was telling his grand children. He had been there as a boy to visit his uncle who sold manure and grew cabbage.

[MaDDoG]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that!

Tony pulled down his ninja mask and said, "I wish my stoopid eyes were blue, that way I'd be sure to become a star".

Tony stood there transfixed at the mirror trying imagine himself with blue eyes. Then, it hit him: "I need an agent! But where do I find one and if I find one how will he manage me" wondered Tony as he set off in search of anyone that could help him. "Besides", he mused, "if he's mean to me I'll have a very hard time stopping myself from stinging him good."

Tony set off in his quest with a rhythmic hum emanating from his happy wings.

He thought he could use a little speed increase (and why not? Grab some shuteye at the same time...) so he fastened on his Nuclear Powered All Terrain Flying Cape™ and zoomed out into the sunset. Being sunset there lots of other insects flying busily about. But luckily they were all on break, because MHC and Maddog were writing the last ten sentences of the story for them, so he arrived to his destination in no time at all. That is all except one who couldn't read or hear very well. As Tony approached the insect mall he didn't notice the approach of a large dark shadow, mainly because he had his iPod (insect pod) playing his fave tunes and was zoned out listening to them.

He looked up as he noticed the shadow on the ground at his feet (paws? Insect legs?) but he was blinded by the sun and all he could see was a huge (for a bumble bee that is) black form and all he knew was that it was the shape of a bird.

Tony's survival instincts immediately kicked into gear and he dived for safety as fast as his puny under done wings would take him but before he got to safety the shadow loomed even larger.

Tony heard a loud squawk a few inches above his head, quickly followed by "Hey! Didn't you want an agent or what? Is this a bad time? I can come back later if you want..."

Tony pulled out his dive for life saving freedom and commenced climbing towards the shadowy figure. In front of him he saw a robin with a bright green mohawk. Of course he new immediately that this was either a Woody Allen film or the the seeds he ate before were from the forbidden bush and he was now hallucinating.

But then it hit him, the robin was from a new species they had just found off the Maldives, the Johnnyus Rottenus and Tony knew that if he needed an over-the-top gutsy agent to get him gigs, this bugger was sure to be the real deal.
Ah the Maldives reminisced the old man in the rocking chair as his mind wandered from the tale he was telling his grand children. He had been there as a boy to visit his uncle who sold manure and grew cabbage. Ahh the cabbage, he remembered one smelled bad but could not recall if it was the cabbage or the manure.

[Mac0sXuser]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that!

Tony pulled down his ninja mask and said, "I wish my stoopid eyes were blue, that way I'd be sure to become a star".

Tony stood there transfixed at the mirror trying imagine himself with blue eyes. Then, it hit him: "I need an agent! But where do I find one and if I find one how will he manage me" wondered Tony as he set off in search of anyone that could help him. "Besides", he mused, "if he's mean to me I'll have a very hard time stopping myself from stinging him good."

Tony set off in his quest with a rhythmic hum emanating from his happy wings.

He thought he could use a little speed increase (and why not? Grab some shuteye at the same time...) so he fastened on his Nuclear Powered All Terrain Flying Cape™ and zoomed out into the sunset. Being sunset there lots of other insects flying busily about. But luckily they were all on break, because MHC and Maddog were writing the last ten sentences of the story for them, so he arrived to his destination in no time at all. That is all except one who couldn't read or hear very well. As Tony approached the insect mall he didn't notice the approach of a large dark shadow, mainly because he had his iPod (insect pod) playing his fave tunes and was zoned out listening to them.

He looked up as he noticed the shadow on the ground at his feet (paws? Insect legs?) but he was blinded by the sun and all he could see was a huge (for a bumble bee that is) black form and all he knew was that it was the shape of a bird.

Tony's survival instincts immediately kicked into gear and he dived for safety as fast as his puny under done wings would take him but before he got to safety the shadow loomed even larger.

Tony heard a loud squawk a few inches above his head, quickly followed by "Hey! Didn't you want an agent or what? Is this a bad time? I can come back later if you want..."

Tony pulled out his dive for life saving freedom and commenced climbing towards the shadowy figure. In front of him he saw a robin with a bright green mohawk. Of course he new immediately that this was either a Woody Allen film or the the seeds he ate before were from the forbidden bush and he was now hallucinating.

But then it hit him, the robin was from a new species they had just found off the Maldives, the Johnnyus Rottenus and Tony knew that if he needed an over-the-top gutsy agent to get him gigs, this bugger was sure to be the real deal.
Ah the Maldives reminisced the old man in the rocking chair as his mind wandered from the tale he was telling his grand children. He had been there as a boy to visit his uncle who sold manure and grew cabbage. Ahh the cabbage, he remembered one smelled bad but could not recall if it was the cabbage or the manure. All he could remember is that the smell of the two mixed would bring a tear to his eye.

[MaDDoG]

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that!

Tony pulled down his ninja mask and said, "I wish my stoopid eyes were blue, that way I'd be sure to become a star".

Tony stood there transfixed at the mirror trying imagine himself with blue eyes. Then, it hit him: "I need an agent! But where do I find one and if I find one how will he manage me" wondered Tony as he set off in search of anyone that could help him. "Besides", he mused, "if he's mean to me I'll have a very hard time stopping myself from stinging him good."

Tony set off in his quest with a rhythmic hum emanating from his happy wings.

He thought he could use a little speed increase (and why not? Grab some shuteye at the same time...) so he fastened on his Nuclear Powered All Terrain Flying Cape™ and zoomed out into the sunset. Being sunset there lots of other insects flying busily about. But luckily they were all on break, because MHC and Maddog were writing the last ten sentences of the story for them, so he arrived to his destination in no time at all. That is all except one who couldn't read or hear very well. As Tony approached the insect mall he didn't notice the approach of a large dark shadow, mainly because he had his iPod (insect pod) playing his fave tunes and was zoned out listening to them.

He looked up as he noticed the shadow on the ground at his feet (paws? Insect legs?) but he was blinded by the sun and all he could see was a huge (for a bumble bee that is) black form and all he knew was that it was the shape of a bird.

Tony's survival instincts immediately kicked into gear and he dived for safety as fast as his puny under done wings would take him but before he got to safety the shadow loomed even larger.

Tony heard a loud squawk a few inches above his head, quickly followed by "Hey! Didn't you want an agent or what? Is this a bad time? I can come back later if you want..."

Tony pulled out his dive for life saving freedom and commenced climbing towards the shadowy figure. In front of him he saw a robin with a bright green mohawk. Of course he new immediately that this was either a Woody Allen film or the the seeds he ate before were from the forbidden bush and he was now hallucinating.

But then it hit him, the robin was from a new species they had just found off the Maldives, the Johnnyus Rottenus and Tony knew that if he needed an over-the-top gutsy agent to get him gigs, this bugger was sure to be the real deal.
Ah the Maldives reminisced the old man in the rocking chair as his mind wandered from the tale he was telling his grand children. He had been there as a boy to visit his uncle who sold manure and grew cabbage. Ahh the cabbage, he remembered one smelled bad but could not recall if it was the cabbage or the manure. All he could remember is that the smell of the two mixed would bring a tear to his eye. More cabbage and less manure his wife would say whenever the breeze wafted into their tiny home made of straw wood and bricks.

[MacHeadCase]

Chapter 1

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that!

Tony pulled down his ninja mask and said, "I wish my stoopid eyes were blue, that way I'd be sure to become a star".

Tony stood there transfixed at the mirror trying imagine himself with blue eyes. Then, it hit him: "I need an agent! But where do I find one and if I find one how will he manage me" wondered Tony as he set off in search of anyone that could help him. "Besides", he mused, "if he's mean to me I'll have a very hard time stopping myself from stinging him good."

Tony set off in his quest with a rhythmic hum emanating from his happy wings.

He thought he could use a little speed increase (and why not? Grab some shuteye at the same time...) so he fastened on his Nuclear Powered All Terrain Flying Cape™ and zoomed out into the sunset. Being sunset there lots of other insects flying busily about. But luckily they were all on break, because MHC and Maddog were writing the last ten sentences of the story for them, so he arrived to his destination in no time at all. That is all except one who couldn't read or hear very well. As Tony approached the insect mall he didn't notice the approach of a large dark shadow, mainly because he had his iPod (insect pod) playing his fave tunes and was zoned out listening to them.

He looked up as he noticed the shadow on the ground at his feet (paws? Insect legs?) but he was blinded by the sun and all he could see was a huge (for a bumble bee that is) black form and all he knew was that it was the shape of a bird.

Tony's survival instincts immediately kicked into gear and he dived for safety as fast as his puny under done wings would take him but before he got to safety the shadow loomed even larger.

Tony heard a loud squawk a few inches above his head, quickly followed by "Hey! Didn't you want an agent or what? Is this a bad time? I can come back later if you want..."

Tony pulled out his dive for life saving freedom and commenced climbing towards the shadowy figure. In front of him he saw a robin with a bright green mohawk. Of course he new immediately that this was either a Woody Allen film or the the seeds he ate before were from the forbidden bush and he was now hallucinating.

But then it hit him, the robin was from a new species they had just found off the Maldives, the Johnnyus Rottenus and Tony knew that if he needed an over-the-top gutsy agent to get him gigs, this bugger was sure to be the real deal.

Chapter 2

Ah the Maldives reminisced the old man in the rocking chair as his mind wandered from the tale he was telling his grand children. He had been there as a boy to visit his uncle who sold manure and grew cabbage.

Ahh the cabbage, he remembered one smelled bad but could not recall if it was the cabbage or the manure. All he could remember is that the smell of the two mixed would bring a tear to his eye.

More cabbage and less manure his wife would say whenever the breeze wafted into their tiny home made of straw wood and bricks. The old man had bought the house cheap from a trio of pigs that were tired of seeing a wolf try to blow their house down on a daily basis and were in a big hurry to move to the big city and far niente their lives away.

[MaDDoG]

hapter 1

An old man in overalls was sitting in his creaky rocking chair on the front porch one fine summer evening, and he remembered times gone by. He called his three grandchildren in, and promised to tell them of a wonderful tale filled with wonder and intrigue. And this is how it went...

It was a day like every other day except he could feel something special in the air. He was much younger then and he felt the world was his mollusk. Unluckily for him, he was allergic to seafood which made his still young and taut suntanned skin look old and motley. Not to mention that it made his feet swell till they looked like cement blocks which made choosing a pair of shoes rather difficult. Therefore he had all his shoes tailor made in Italy by a little known group of Venetian shoe making Nuns.

Problem was those shoes were often times painful as he'd find rosaries tucked under the insoles. But enough about insoles thought the old man as he smelled to aroma eminating from the kitchen across the road. His mouth watered at the thought of the cooked possum he had seen flat on the road earlier. Alzheimer's had kicked in and he just couldn't recall where he had seen that possum and all he knew was that it looked like it had plenty of meat on the bone. He was especially fond of the tail meat and had wondered how that possum had gotten out there in the first place. He pondered that it may have been along the lines of why did the chicken cross the road but that possum not being especially intelligent had not hurried to the other side and as a result had become just a splatter along the road of life.

The possum had been flattened out in the road by a gigantic rock that fell from a cliff and lazily rolled in the ditch off the side of the road.

Meanwhile the children stood quietly heads angled slightly to one side watching his face change expressions while these thoughts moved though his mind. They didn't know a face could wrinkle up so much, almost folding up on itself. As the old man wiped the drool from his face he remembered what he was doing in the first place and began to tell his story.

"So uh it was like this, uh right or was it?..."

There once was a little black and gold bumble bee named Tony that lived in a remote bumble bee colony way out in the forrest. Tony brushed his fur to a spitting shine 'cuz he wanted to be a star and make sure he looked good in the forest mirror... yes, yes, exactly like that!

Tony pulled down his ninja mask and said, "I wish my stoopid eyes were blue, that way I'd be sure to become a star".

Tony stood there transfixed at the mirror trying imagine himself with blue eyes. Then, it hit him: "I need an agent! But where do I find one and if I find one how will he manage me" wondered Tony as he set off in search of anyone that could help him. "Besides", he mused, "if he's mean to me I'll have a very hard time stopping myself from stinging him good."

Tony set off in his quest with a rhythmic hum emanating from his happy wings.

He thought he could use a little speed increase (and why not? Grab some shuteye at the same time...) so he fastened on his Nuclear Powered All Terrain Flying Cape™ and zoomed out into the sunset. Being sunset there lots of other insects flying busily about. But luckily they were all on break, because MHC and Maddog were writing the last ten sentences of the story for them, so he arrived to his destination in no time at all. That is all except one who couldn't read or hear very well. As Tony approached the insect mall he didn't notice the approach of a large dark shadow, mainly because he had his iPod (insect pod) playing his fave tunes and was zoned out listening to them.

He looked up as he noticed the shadow on the ground at his feet (paws? Insect legs?) but he was blinded by the sun and all he could see was a huge (for a bumble bee that is) black form and all he knew was that it was the shape of a bird.

Tony's survival instincts immediately kicked into gear and he dived for safety as fast as his puny under done wings would take him but before he got to safety the shadow loomed even larger.

Tony heard a loud squawk a few inches above his head, quickly followed by "Hey! Didn't you want an agent or what? Is this a bad time? I can come back later if you want..."

Tony pulled out his dive for life saving freedom and commenced climbing towards the shadowy figure. In front of him he saw a robin with a bright green mohawk. Of course he new immediately that this was either a Woody Allen film or the the seeds he ate before were from the forbidden bush and he was now hallucinating.

But then it hit him, the robin was from a new species they had just found off the Maldives, the Johnnyus Rottenus and Tony knew that if he needed an over-the-top gutsy agent to get him gigs, this bugger was sure to be the real deal.

Chapter 2

Ah the Maldives reminisced the old man in the rocking chair as his mind wandered from the tale he was telling his grand children. He had been there as a boy to visit his uncle who sold manure and grew cabbage.

Ahh the cabbage, he remembered one smelled bad but could not recall if it was the cabbage or the manure. All he could remember is that the smell of the two mixed would bring a tear to his eye.

More cabbage and less manure his wife would say whenever the breeze wafted into their tiny home made of straw wood and bricks. The old man had bought the house cheap from a trio of pigs that were tired of seeing a wolf try to blow their house down on a daily basis and were in a big hurry to move to the big city and far niente their lives away. And even though the pigs had moved there was a certain smell that remained to remind them of the previous mischievous ping curly tailed inhabitants.

[MacHeadCase]

Chapter 1 (http://macapper.com/forums/showthread.php?p=9165#post9165)

Chapter 2
Ah the Maldives reminisced the old man in the rocking chair as his mind wandered from the tale he was telling his grand children. He had been there as a boy to visit his uncle who sold manure and grew cabbage.

Ahh the cabbage, he remembered one smelled bad but could not recall if it was the cabbage or the manure. All he could remember is that the smell of the two mixed would bring a tear to his eye.

More cabbage and less manure his wife would say whenever the breeze wafted into their tiny home made of straw wood and bricks. The old man had bought the house cheap from a trio of pigs that were tired of seeing a wolf try to blow their house down on a daily basis and were in a big hurry to move to the big city and far niente their lives away. And even though the pigs had moved there was a certain smell that remained to remind them of the previous mischievous ping curly tailed inhabitants.

And because of that, the wolf still came around threatening to blow the house down every day the old man (who was now young in his reminiscence... ok so this is confusing... let's call the old man Bubba... there he has a name!) Bubba noticed and he wondered just how he could get the wolf to cool it and go kill his lungs somewhere else.

[MaDDoG]

Chapter 2
Ah the Maldives reminisced the old man in the rocking chair as his mind wandered from the tale he was telling his grand children. He had been there as a boy to visit his uncle who sold manure and grew cabbage.

Ahh the cabbage, he remembered one smelled bad but could not recall if it was the cabbage or the manure. All he could remember is that the smell of the two mixed would bring a tear to his eye.

More cabbage and less manure his wife would say whenever the breeze wafted into their tiny home made of straw wood and bricks. The old man had bought the house cheap from a trio of pigs that were tired of seeing a wolf try to blow their house down on a daily basis and were in a big hurry to move to the big city and far niente their lives away. And even though the pigs had moved there was a certain smell that remained to remind them of the previous mischievous ping curly tailed inhabitants.

And because of that, the wolf still came around threatening to blow the house down every day the old man (who was now young in his reminiscence... ok so this is confusing... let's call the old man Bubba... there he has a name!) Bubba noticed and he wondered just how he could get the wolf to cool it and go kill his lungs somewhere else. Then it dawned on Bubba, when the wolf huffed and puffed that if he let fly with a good ole dose of pepper spray, wolfy would split lickety split.

[Tanner31593]

Chapter 2
Ah the Maldives reminisced the old man in the rocking chair as his mind wandered from the tale he was telling his grand children. He had been there as a boy to visit his uncle who sold manure and grew cabbage.

Ahh the cabbage, he remembered one smelled bad but could not recall if it was the cabbage or the manure. All he could remember is that the smell of the two mixed would bring a tear to his eye.

More cabbage and less manure his wife would say whenever the breeze wafted into their tiny home made of straw wood and bricks. The old man had bought the house cheap from a trio of pigs that were tired of seeing a wolf try to blow their house down on a daily basis and were in a big hurry to move to the big city and far niente their lives away. And even though the pigs had moved there was a certain smell that remained to remind them of the previous mischievous ping curly tailed inhabitants.

And because of that, the wolf still came around threatening to blow the house down every day the old man (who was now young in his reminiscence... ok so this is confusing... let's call the old man Bubba... there he has a name!) Bubba noticed and he wondered just how he could get the wolf to cool it and go kill his lungs somewhere else. Then it dawned on Bubba, when the wolf huffed and puffed that if he let fly with a good ole dose of pepper spray, wolfy would split lickety split. Bubba thought, "Well, maybe we should get to the problem of WHY the wolf is acting this way in the first place, which is probably because the wolf has issues with it's mother."

[MacHeadCase]

Chapter 2
Ah the Maldives reminisced the old man in the rocking chair as his mind wandered from the tale he was telling his grand children. He had been there as a boy to visit his uncle who sold manure and grew cabbage.

Ahh the cabbage, he remembered one smelled bad but could not recall if it was the cabbage or the manure. All he could remember is that the smell of the two mixed would bring a tear to his eye.

More cabbage and less manure his wife would say whenever the breeze wafted into their tiny home made of straw wood and bricks. The old man had bought the house cheap from a trio of pigs that were tired of seeing a wolf try to blow their house down on a daily basis and were in a big hurry to move to the big city and far niente their lives away. And even though the pigs had moved there was a certain smell that remained to remind them of the previous mischievous ping curly tailed inhabitants.

And because of that, the wolf still came around threatening to blow the house down every day the old man (who was now young in his reminiscence... ok so this is confusing... let's call the old man Bubba... there he has a name!) Bubba noticed and he wondered just how he could get the wolf to cool it and go kill his lungs somewhere else. Then it dawned on Bubba, when the wolf huffed and puffed that if he let fly with a good ole dose of pepper spray, wolfy would split lickety split. Bubba thought, "Well, maybe we should get to the problem of WHY the wolf is acting this way in the first place, which is probably because the wolf has issues with it's mother."

Bubba pressed on the pepper spray bottle's button and woosh the pepper spray got caught in the wolf's exhalation, ricocheting, and the pepper spray hit Bubba right in the face. Augh!

[MaDDoG]

Chapter 2
Ah the Maldives reminisced the old man in the rocking chair as his mind wandered from the tale he was telling his grand children. He had been there as a boy to visit his uncle who sold manure and grew cabbage.

Ahh the cabbage, he remembered one smelled bad but could not recall if it was the cabbage or the manure. All he could remember is that the smell of the two mixed would bring a tear to his eye.

More cabbage and less manure his wife would say whenever the breeze wafted into their tiny home made of straw wood and bricks. The old man had bought the house cheap from a trio of pigs that were tired of seeing a wolf try to blow their house down on a daily basis and were in a big hurry to move to the big city and far niente their lives away. And even though the pigs had moved there was a certain smell that remained to remind them of the previous mischievous ping curly tailed inhabitants.

And because of that, the wolf still came around threatening to blow the house down every day the old man (who was now young in his reminiscence... ok so this is confusing... let's call the old man Bubba... there he has a name!) Bubba noticed and he wondered just how he could get the wolf to cool it and go kill his lungs somewhere else. Then it dawned on Bubba, when the wolf huffed and puffed that if he let fly with a good ole dose of pepper spray, wolfy would split lickety split. Bubba thought, "Well, maybe we should get to the problem of WHY the wolf is acting this way in the first place, which is probably because the wolf has issues with it's mother."

Bubba pressed on the pepper spray bottle's button and woosh the pepper spray got caught in the wolf's exhalation, ricocheting, and the pepper spray hit Bubba right in the face. Augh!
Bubba began to cough and splutter, his nose began to run and his eyes watered uncontrollably as he reached around looking for the garden hose with which he could find some relief.

[Mac0sXuser]

Chapter 2
Ah the Maldives reminisced the old man in the rocking chair as his mind wandered from the tale he was telling his grand children. He had been there as a boy to visit his uncle who sold manure and grew cabbage.

Ahh the cabbage, he remembered one smelled bad but could not recall if it was the cabbage or the manure. All he could remember is that the smell of the two mixed would bring a tear to his eye.

More cabbage and less manure his wife would say whenever the breeze wafted into their tiny home made of straw wood and bricks. The old man had bought the house cheap from a trio of pigs that were tired of seeing a wolf try to blow their house down on a daily basis and were in a big hurry to move to the big city and far niente their lives away. And even though the pigs had moved there was a certain smell that remained to remind them of the previous mischievous ping curly tailed inhabitants.

And because of that, the wolf still came around threatening to blow the house down every day the old man (who was now young in his reminiscence... ok so this is confusing... let's call the old man Bubba... there he has a name!) Bubba noticed and he wondered just how he could get the wolf to cool it and go kill his lungs somewhere else. Then it dawned on Bubba, when the wolf huffed and puffed that if he let fly with a good ole dose of pepper spray, wolfy would split lickety split. Bubba thought, "Well, maybe we should get to the problem of WHY the wolf is acting this way in the first place, which is probably because the wolf has issues with it's mother."

Bubba pressed on the pepper spray bottle's button and woosh the pepper spray got caught in the wolf's exhalation, ricocheting, and the pepper spray hit Bubba right in the face. Augh!
Bubba began to cough and splutter, his nose began to run and his eyes watered uncontrollably as he reached around looking for the garden hose with which he could find some relief.
As his vision began to clear he saw a very sick wolf.