A shadow was cast across the town; across the valley and beyond. It seemed some villagers had actually escaped. They got to the top of the hill and prepared their fiercest weapon; the largest person in the town. The villagers around her aimed, then gave an almighty push, sending her rolling towards the town and the evil pies. She rolled at such great speeds that she smashed through the village wall as though it were an extremely thin piece of bread cut by an extra thin knife that is stainless steel, wielded by a robot baker who has microscopic vision as such he can cut a one nanometre thick slice of bread accurately. Speaking of which, I always wonder if Helgas Bread is made by robots. I once found a microchip in my sandwich, which explains why I think this. Anyway, she rolled through the wall, into the midst of the battle.
Many pies were squashed, in the end resembling that of the contents of my toilet after a big party. Although she took out many, she didn’t kill them all. Many shielded themselves in the two places a fat woman would never roll to; Subway and Jenny Craig.
Then, something even sillier happened, something so silly it hurts me to think about it. If you do not think you can last, please stop reading. For those that choose to continue reading, you have been warned.
Wait a second while I turn on my suspense music CD…wait, I forgot you won’t be able to hear it. I guess I’ll have to attempt to write it then. Here goes…dum dum DUM! Yes that looks about right.
Anyway, the silliest thing yet. The penguin next to me pulled out a miniature tuba, about fifty centimetres high, and made an attempt to play it, but all that came out was a noise that vaguely resembled someone relieving themselves in a pair of jeans. This then caused small tremors, as something furry and white ran towards us at a speed even faster than the rolling woman.
When the creature got to us, it stopped and let us see what it looked like, and what it was. Black dreadlocks, each with a plastic flower on the end. Two long ears protruded from within the clump of hair, each with a number of piercings. A pair of purple tinted sunglasses hid his stoned expression as he took a long drag from his cigarette. He wore a denim vest over a white long sleeved shirt, which hade messages such as “Make love not war,” “Free the loonies!” and “Fish are shoes, not food.”
Of course, these sayings could not be seen behind the massive peace sign necklace, which was made of tin foil and held together with blue tack. His pants were quite a sight to behold; incredibly bright fluro pink parachute pants. These weren’t your normal parachute pants either, they were actually made from a stolen parachute. Somewhere in the world, someone is skydiving, then moving to pull the ripcord, and out will fly a pair of cheese coloured jeans.
