This is a wild, boundless fantasy we have created for all you thoughtful readers to love, to hope for and to dream of. The first one of lucy's, then the next is mine (sarena's.) We alternate. By the way any reference to names is people we know. HEHE me would say sorry but me wouldnt mean it. Anyfing about Jam, Bob the Reindeer, burble, lab rats.. hehe more of an inside joke. ENJOY!!<333
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People now have no shame. They shamelessly mock others with their stabbing words and do more than stab each other. We, of course, will forever remain perfect little angels at death's beck and call, us, the perfect little angels...
The line of shame was crossed long ago... We are left with nothing but pure agony. The world is a cruel little place. they stab, and stab, and never allow a stab in return. What madness is this? But we are the angels of their nightmares. Our perfect wings and haloes of magnificent shininess banish their troubles away, like a lonely lab rat chasing cheese that can't run. Except that when the rat finally gets to the cheese, he finds thorns... Poisonous thorns that bring nothing but sorrow to the ugly mousey, but joy and happiness to his family. Our job as angels is to rid the happiness of people and give it to others... kind of like knives. STABBA STABBA!
We shall steal the bright souls of innocent harmless fatties and put them in coke-filled glasses for the sinners to drink, so they will finally get the life they deserve, that they should rightfully claim...AS ELMOS. They shall be worshipped by skinny, buck-toothed no-lives who can't even form their own blob and will be scorned upon by us, the perfect angels. The ones whose souls we've taken, will join us in this quest to kill, leaving only the losers in the elmo-loving world of sesame street. ameep.
The angels of death we are, sent by the power of pain and sadness to grasp their very hearts and leave them to deteriorate in the unsettled dust, slowly withering away to nuffing. As the years pass, we will return and poke the decayed organs with shiny needles, watching the tiny holes expand.. soon we will have written our curse into them. the curse shall bring them to a state between life and death, breath and breathlessness... they will grow spiky wings with strawberry jam all over them and haunt helpless, innocent souls.. slather their skin in syrup and leave it in the sun, so that they have that awful sticky feeling, even though their ability to feel is long gone with the dying wind... we fly away to the lands of one-eyed squirrels where jelly grows on trees. We shall frolic merrily as we watch the sun set in the starless, moonless sky where dead organs replace clouds. ameup.
They look up, hoping to catch a glimpse of the dreaded twilight male 'actors' and actors are what they are, playing their role to steal girls' and (on occasion) boys' hearts, then sinking their teeth into the sorrow brought along when they discover Taylor has recently hooked up with Madonna. The unfairness of life will show them the truth, unveil the face that has scorned them for many a time, and will finally bring them through their true rite of passage, into an angel on death themselves. They will discover the pleasure of others' pain, and know what living is really about. Because we all know life is just an illusion brought on by love, laughter and KINDNESS. LIFE SKILLS, THEY SAY. They mean nothing to us, just another painful illusion they try to embed in our skulls, something that will only destroy ourselves. They say it will help, and it will. it will let them all see the harsh truth. The killers.
The fragile hearts stood strong against the terrors of night. The rising water of lakes and rivers was gray and carried a sorrowful feel through the endless darkness and shadows. On and on they continued, till they reached it; the house of a lonely creature, subjected to shunning by all humans and crazies alike. It was Jam. He had red stains around his mouth, and his teeth were yellow and blunt. If organs could grin, these hearts would be grinning maniacally as they slowly advanced towards the wild-eyed jam and took out a pair of scissors. ameep.
And after the cursed ones become even worse, we will stare blankly at their faces, trying to remember who they were. Because they definitely are familiar. Really familiar. Death comes at a price. ameup.
We shall approach them in their sleep, looking over their perplexed faces and horrible makeup that so totally does not suit their skin tone. as the minutes pass, we shall slowly inject poison in their veins with pointy sewing needles, causing a kerfuffle in their bloodstream. Slowly their skin turns blue, and a shadow spreads across their heart; a shadow that will never be removed. The inevitable fate of their evanescent life draws near... our powerful accomplice, pigeon, grins feverishly and begins to sharpen his beak on their bones. When that's finished, he digs his painfully sharp beak into their eyes. When they're gone forever, we bring them back to life and do it again. ameep.
He blinked. Who was that penguin right before her eyes? While he towered over the small figure, it still managed to look cute. He bent down. And GASPED, for it was no penguin. Your eyes will make you a sinner, for you eyes will lie to you, and when you are finally disillusioned, you see the truth of the lies. The face behind the pengy. The poison hidden in the pill. Not that it has ever stopped you. But try, if you will. And stop the evil. Pick up the pill, and consume it. Tic tacs. God's gift to you.
The desolate graveyard was brimming with dead things... and not a shiny thing in sight. all the bats were very bored, so they decided to grow fangs. After a few centuries when they finally had fangs, the bats found a small little girl with sticky fingers. She was running from a tall doctor with fangs as well, who happened to be the long-lost brother of the bat. So, over a roasted little girl named Lana, they decided to catch up. after about ten minutes, they got tired of Lana and went to Candyland where giant swirly monsters pwned all. (-steals james and suriya's word.) They bought some shiny scissors and buried them in the shineless graveyard. About 525600 minutes later, a giant scissor monster grew out of the ground and started rawring at them. It had a burble pattern on its' blades. to this day, the scissors, accompanied by bob the reindeer, haunts all. ameep.
And spores flew for the smooth head of the curious figure, and the boy gazed, starstruck and amused. the boy sneezed twice. And saw. The horrifying figure. It materialized out of nowhere and was staring at him, poppy in hand, with the needle pointed at him. The boy plucked out the capped thing that was growing on the wood and on impulse, stuffed it in his mouth, heaven knows why. the figure blurred, turning into more, and the needles flew straight at the boy, but only one hit. the needle sunk into his chest and blood blossomed from the prick. The poison slowly spread through his veins and he gradually fell into a deep, permanent sleep. Amushroomdream.
The sands of time cannot be stopped. Years pass whether we will them or not... But we can remember. (total eragon quote <-) as they flow along painfully like a river of blood, we continually stab innocent losers, tearing out their souls and giving them to lonely ferrets to munch on.
You know what's fun? Blowing bubbles. They stick to my nose.
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And that ends our cheerful descriptions. All that's left to say is...
MEEP!
- Sarena
