Jerome saved my life when I was living in Torronto, Canada. Jerome was kind to me but he disliked my younger brother, Mitch so Jerome dealt with this problem in his own way. He ate Mitch. Jerome's soft, warm fur was purple and Jerome was a Torronto Beaver (like a legit beaver). Later in the week people hunted down Jerome and skined him for his purple fur to make jumpers and stuff. Now Jerome has taken over my soul and now tells me what to do with my life. /*o*\
When Jerome tells you to do something its best to listen to Jerome because Jerome knows best.
Jerome is Life, Jerome is Death, Jerome is Me, Jerome is not You.
