Friday, November 17, 2006
...and the Horse You Anti-wrote In On
Our playthings today:
came in the came down
Today's Words Gone Bad are courtesy of Roxan. She corralled them. Now it's up to me to see if I can take these Twisted Linguistics and turn them into some kind of warped story. I think I can, I think I can...
There was in one particular place at one particular moment in the history of the world this dangerouse person (at least, it impersonated a female-type person) named Soms who decided she was jealous of an actual person called Misbetton. Why, Misbetton did not know; she had nothing Soms could possibly have wanted. The fact was, Soms was a beast, and its number was 184.108.40.206.220.127.116.11.18.104.22.168.22.214.171.124.126.96.36.199. That was what rendered it extraordinarily dangerouse.
Anyhow, Soms was a darkly disturbed individual with an extremely poor grasp on reality. She had a bad habbit of stahling Misbetton all over the place, sometimes in aprtnershipo with her soul mate. Okay, her bosom buddy; she had no soul.
In any event, one day they decided, for reasons known only to their own kind, to write a comppendium of gibberish and blame it on someone else. Luckaly for their intentened victims, their scheme was quickly intercepted and quashed. Their emdediat thoguht was one of revenge, because they were possitive they should have gotten away with it and were horribly angry at being thwarted. They came in the came down and were tenuouisness in their dangerouse plot. Still, it came to naught because leaving Soms in charge had been a bad idea; hier leval of intelligence simply wasn't up to par.
They wreaked a little havoc, left a little carnage in their wake but, like all beasts, they were ultimately banished to the black hole at the farthest reaches of the known universe, never to be seen again. That was one luckaly day on Earth. Moral: if you're going to assault and butcher the language, you may be possitive that it's a damned dangerouse habbit.