The Imminent Arrival of Gargantua
The construction of a massive submarine sandwich was only the first of a number of tasks which had to be accomplished before daybreak. Tom, the town drunk, stumbled across Main Street, his pants full of terror. Plastered as he was, he knew the destruction of his beloved town would leave him without a supply of alcohol, or possibly dead. He rushed home and worked furiously assembling the ingredients for a huge final daiquiri.
Babe, the high school homecoming queen, was taken to the dressmaker, fussed over for hours, and stuck full of pins. She came home late that night with a box containing the precious masterpiece. This gigantic and totally busty blonde would be staked out on a hill wearing the dress hoping to appease the monster with raw sex. The rest of us hid in basements all over town and listened to the radio. We were smoking like fiends and hoping for the best.
Little did we know The Ronin was hard at work surfing the net for secret weapons or poison gas to use against the monster. None of us trusted him much. The poor bastard was in love with Babe but too shy to tell her. This love was destroying him yet it was all he had. The Ronin’s fingers flew across the keys, click, click, far into the night. In the pearl dawn he finally found the creature’s weak spot: Gravity was slowly crushing his skeletal structure. He would be dead in a hundred years (or less).
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