literature

Short Story, Short Title

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Literature Text

I'm going to tell you a story about this paper bag in my hands. You can't see it because it is here with me. But you're going to read this story anyway, because I wrote it and I have the paper bag.

  It all started with this guy with no name.  No one knew what to call him.  So I'm going to call him "Destructo".  Anyways, this "Destructo" guy came after me with a pen. "Destructo" looked very scary and tried to stab my left finger. Fortunately, "Destructo" missed and "Destructo" only hit my head, which doesn't really do anything anyway. As I was saying, before I was so rudely interupted by myself, "Destructo" hit me in the head.  It didn't really hurt, but there was blood.  The only reason there is blood is because every good story has blood, either inside people or out.

  Getting back to the story, "Destructo" left me with a big scar on my head. So I had to cover it up with a paper bag. But, with the bag on I can't type, so the bag is in my hands now.

   The moral of this story is: Don't feed the monkeys.
I got bored and decided to impromptu a work of art, so this is gonna look really retarded, but I don't care.
© 2005 - 2024 S-T-uT-T-eR
Comments11
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well, of course i, and any other sane person, get the moral of the story. we ALL know not to feel the monkeys. but why would "destructo" stab your left finger? everyone knows the RIGHT finger is your weak point [like KRYPTONITE! (think "dynomite" and the caps make sense)]