Ahem.
Far beyond what we humans would call normal, there's a realm that exists parallel to our own. This realm has not been discovered, so you're probably wonder why I'm able to explain it to you. This is a script I must follow, so please do not ask me.
On Earth, humans are classified into one of either four groups. Those groups are as follows and, of course, in no specified order; apes, emos, royalty and the entrepreneurs who are risking their lifes and do not know it soliciting on other planets. And then a new group. The Snoxsnitters.
Why I chose this name in particular is beyond me. Why I agreed to write this story to you is beyond me. The director's paying me big bucks.
In this realm, life is far more complex and rewarding than it is here on Earth. No one ever runs out of food. They feed on humans that somehow wander into their realm, perhaps they bought one of those cheap toilets that was supposed to be recalled when it was discovered that they can transport beings to another dimension.
Anyways, where was I?
Righty-o, well, the Snoxsnitters are not exactly people, but they consist of another subgroup. Animate objects in this subgroup include: dogs, cats, fish and Sciones.
Now, before I get ahead of myself, this is another random name in what is essentially a random story on its own. You have your groups, and your realms, and your cats and dogs, but you can never have a story that's entirely fiction. That's priceless. Ok, back to the story...
The Sciones are a superior group all in their own. No, it's not George Bush and it's not Osama Bin Laden. These are the beings from the other realm that I was talking about, and then the main group in which they are more known; the Snoxsnitters. The Snoxsnitters are basically these beings I have told you so much about, and - whether you like it or not - will tell you so much more about.
(Well, so far, you see that this story is entirely random, and I thought of it along the way. This is your restroom break, the other half of the story is next.)
In the realm of Scionase, the race of the Sciones exist. No, this is not Adolf Hitler's race. If you would have been paying attention, you would know that.... forget it. One 98 year-old boy (That's 14, we're just measuring age in dog years as of right now) in Scionase was one of the thousands who didn't like going to school. Now, the schools of Scionase practiced one and only one subject, and that was war. That's right, war. Now, you may be thinking, "Why war? Don't we have enough of that on Earth." Well, to tell you the truth, curious reader, they envision war as a way of life, a fun way at that. They know no math, nor science nor English or literature; a 1st grader can confound them with those subjects, but if you taunt them rather than teach them, they kill you. Rather than wonder why you can even wander into the realm and not be killed in an instant, let's continue with the details of the boy.
The boy's name was Prinall, and what a curious boy he was. He pressed all kinds of buttons, and unfortunately not knowing he might have blown off half of the world he exists in. One day, he regretted pushing the button at his school that dispenses soda bottles. He wandered throughout the fibers of time itself and landed in middle France in what we would call present time. Right in front of the Eiffel Tower. Now, what he saw in his eyes (though he was still traumatized) was a huge pointy thing - which was as he described it. He didn't speak English. He spoke no language except what a demented person in a wheelchair would call sign language. It was deceptively close. He ran into French usurpers and - as you would have guess - they took him to the King.
Now, as you may have wondered, when the guards first saw this frail, purple boy, they would have dropped their donuts and most likely fainted. However, their happenstance stories of encountering a UFO (exaggerated for a can of beans) probably made them as little nervous as possible.
When the King saw this boy, he was outraged. He wouldn't have some purple boy wandering the country. It would scare the tourists. He had mailed the boy to America, and, of course, a letter from the King was pinned to the package. It read:
Hello, George Bush. If you receive this package, inside it is a present for you and your successful fellow Americans. I'm sure you'll thank me later.
A simple letter was all the King could make. He knew little English.
Of course, the package came on the shores of Delaware, on the Atlantic Coast. A fisherman found it. There was also a rather pale fish on top of the box; we don't know how it got there. But we were sure it was dead.
The fisherman opened it, and saw the letter for the president. Inside was the puny Scione, to what the fisherman would describe "a little girl". The man's pride was hurt, and he shipped the boy back to England, except it never originally came from there. Now, you could have guessed that another fisherman found this misguided package. This was an Icelandic fisherman. He got frustrated trying to read the unorganized English; he ripped up the letter and lay there, thinking of what he should do with the prize inside. He decided he'd keep it as a pet. THE END
Tell me your opinion on it.
Far beyond what we humans would call normal, there's a realm that exists parallel to our own. This realm has not been discovered, so you're probably wonder why I'm able to explain it to you. This is a script I must follow, so please do not ask me.
On Earth, humans are classified into one of either four groups. Those groups are as follows and, of course, in no specified order; apes, emos, royalty and the entrepreneurs who are risking their lifes and do not know it soliciting on other planets. And then a new group. The Snoxsnitters.
Why I chose this name in particular is beyond me. Why I agreed to write this story to you is beyond me. The director's paying me big bucks.
In this realm, life is far more complex and rewarding than it is here on Earth. No one ever runs out of food. They feed on humans that somehow wander into their realm, perhaps they bought one of those cheap toilets that was supposed to be recalled when it was discovered that they can transport beings to another dimension.
Anyways, where was I?
Righty-o, well, the Snoxsnitters are not exactly people, but they consist of another subgroup. Animate objects in this subgroup include: dogs, cats, fish and Sciones.
Now, before I get ahead of myself, this is another random name in what is essentially a random story on its own. You have your groups, and your realms, and your cats and dogs, but you can never have a story that's entirely fiction. That's priceless. Ok, back to the story...
The Sciones are a superior group all in their own. No, it's not George Bush and it's not Osama Bin Laden. These are the beings from the other realm that I was talking about, and then the main group in which they are more known; the Snoxsnitters. The Snoxsnitters are basically these beings I have told you so much about, and - whether you like it or not - will tell you so much more about.
(Well, so far, you see that this story is entirely random, and I thought of it along the way. This is your restroom break, the other half of the story is next.)
In the realm of Scionase, the race of the Sciones exist. No, this is not Adolf Hitler's race. If you would have been paying attention, you would know that.... forget it. One 98 year-old boy (That's 14, we're just measuring age in dog years as of right now) in Scionase was one of the thousands who didn't like going to school. Now, the schools of Scionase practiced one and only one subject, and that was war. That's right, war. Now, you may be thinking, "Why war? Don't we have enough of that on Earth." Well, to tell you the truth, curious reader, they envision war as a way of life, a fun way at that. They know no math, nor science nor English or literature; a 1st grader can confound them with those subjects, but if you taunt them rather than teach them, they kill you. Rather than wonder why you can even wander into the realm and not be killed in an instant, let's continue with the details of the boy.
The boy's name was Prinall, and what a curious boy he was. He pressed all kinds of buttons, and unfortunately not knowing he might have blown off half of the world he exists in. One day, he regretted pushing the button at his school that dispenses soda bottles. He wandered throughout the fibers of time itself and landed in middle France in what we would call present time. Right in front of the Eiffel Tower. Now, what he saw in his eyes (though he was still traumatized) was a huge pointy thing - which was as he described it. He didn't speak English. He spoke no language except what a demented person in a wheelchair would call sign language. It was deceptively close. He ran into French usurpers and - as you would have guess - they took him to the King.
Now, as you may have wondered, when the guards first saw this frail, purple boy, they would have dropped their donuts and most likely fainted. However, their happenstance stories of encountering a UFO (exaggerated for a can of beans) probably made them as little nervous as possible.
When the King saw this boy, he was outraged. He wouldn't have some purple boy wandering the country. It would scare the tourists. He had mailed the boy to America, and, of course, a letter from the King was pinned to the package. It read:
Hello, George Bush. If you receive this package, inside it is a present for you and your successful fellow Americans. I'm sure you'll thank me later.
A simple letter was all the King could make. He knew little English.
Of course, the package came on the shores of Delaware, on the Atlantic Coast. A fisherman found it. There was also a rather pale fish on top of the box; we don't know how it got there. But we were sure it was dead.
The fisherman opened it, and saw the letter for the president. Inside was the puny Scione, to what the fisherman would describe "a little girl". The man's pride was hurt, and he shipped the boy back to England, except it never originally came from there. Now, you could have guessed that another fisherman found this misguided package. This was an Icelandic fisherman. He got frustrated trying to read the unorganized English; he ripped up the letter and lay there, thinking of what he should do with the prize inside. He decided he'd keep it as a pet. THE END
Tell me your opinion on it.
