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| The Extents of Smell |
| By FargalEX |
| Chapter 1 �What the flug is this?!?� I thought to myself, whistling away the oak-ridden donkeys that had been pursuing me for the past week. �Is it metallic?� I had eventually found myself in what seemed to be a metallic kitten. By examining the outer rim of the subjects� muscular rope pulses, I stumbled upon a jar of fluidated rust, containing a German elf. �Vas eest der papagei?!� Demanded the elf. �I�m sorry but I don�t have a map.� I replied. �Akchung! I see. Den vat do you call dis?!?� The elf withdrew a pair of XXXL briefs from beneath a wardrobe located on a farm made of elbows. �It looks like a blue pair of ol� Ron�s� I replied, regardless of the small Albanian chisels he had been throwing into my shins. �Ahhhhhhhhhhh. You have passed das test,� said the elf, �But you cannot guezz mein name.� �What�s your name?� I asked. �Blowborb� he replied. I then guessed his name. Amazingly, I was correct first time (what a coincidence!). �I bet you�re GREEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeennnnnnn,� I gurgled, �so won�t you join me on my adventure?� Blowborb inclined to agree. After a many treads in small puddles around eerily yellow playschools, I was hit by a question. Literally. We had gained popcorn tokens by shuffling slowly up and down corridors with a travelling circus made out of old women with wooden eyes, and travelled a vast distance over a furniture factory, when suddenly I had become so semi-solidified that I couldn�t even remember where I was supposed to be heading with what seemed to be 3 molluscs. Eventually, me and Blowborb decided to leave the circus so they could scale the corridors of the furniture factory until they rot. By following a compass in no particular direction, we were able to come across something in the middle of the desert that looked like a distressed whale. Upon closer examination, we discovered Soaps, the frigid lump. �Is that you, guvner?� he heaved, rippling every wrinkle on his face, whilst gas was pumped from his rear end. He attempted to walk towards me, but was instantly crushed by a crater that had fell from the floor. �YABOEY!!!� He squealed, �My bones have turned into mushy peas once again!� Without the aid of gravity-defying beetles we grabbed him by the inverted corners and started on our journey towards a Bulgarian hippo, who may of known the answer to Soaps� mushy peas. |