"Kaboom! That is my lease favouurite thing about Scot!!" THe scotsman said to me, the interviewer.
"Mhm, go on..." I said as I righted down the words on my eye pad. The scotter gave me a quizzical questioning testing look with his eye ball (not plural).
"Laddie, are you mad and def and blind? There is so much that I unlike about that boyo that I must simple it into a singular one word! Kaboom!!!" And then the drunk guy just kinda blewed up, so I figurined that it was time to find my next target.
"Why, please excusen me, mister Mundy. I have some questioning to do at you."
The tall, long, lanky, stretchy, tall, lengthy, gangly, jangly, Australian man stood loomed before me (akchewally he stood with his back to me because he was peeing).
"Excuse me sir, Mr mick man..." I said again.
"Well I ain't micky, that's me brothr." *insert Mr. Beast meme here as the lanky ganky hanky panky aussie guy turned around.* "It's actually Mr. Ricky Micky Dicky to you."
I blush with embarrass as he done corrects me so correctingly.
"I apolergize my good sir. I have butt a simple questioning inquiry." I pause for dramatic effect as I can hear the rats a-creakin' and the jarate jars a-squeakin'.
"Are you actually Aussie man?" Wait that was the wrong questioning. "Soz, actually I would like to ponder your reasoning for your animosity towards the Scout from hit game Team Fortress 2 released in 2007?"
He paused for a long, long, time, almost as long as he was tall. "Well, you sea, mate... Scout from the hit game Team Fortress 2 realized in 2oo7, is a stinky, yucky, spaztic gremlin!! I bet he is also a froot shop owner two! And I heard he keeps a raw chicken under his bed fir unown purposes..."
"I see, mr Ricky micky dickie! How insighting! But I actually dont care!"
Just wen I turnd around to leave go, I felt a shoulder put a shoulder on my hand on my shoulder in a very threateningly scary manor. Instead of finding out how such scareness can exist, I speedy my noodle rat away into a deep, damp, dark closet. I'm am unsure of the origins of the wetness, but I would like to unknow that. There comes a cackling. Someone is cackling evilly, and I am in a deep, damp dark closet of unknown origins with no way out of the deep damp darkness.
"Merasmums."
"Who?"
"Merasmu."
"Merry as much?"
"No, Menasbuns."
"Wat?"
"Okay fr I have some big knowledge to totally drop on you about the Scut guy. And my name is Merasmus."
I gaspeth and taketh my nopepad, totally awesomely prepared for the super dank tea on Scout.
"I totally owe him like 20 buckers but secretly he owes me 30 so really it balances out and he needs to pay me one billion dollars. That is the dank hawt tea."
"Wow!!!" I gaspthd and jotted everything down but I kould not right fast enough for his words. "That is some dank tea!!"
"Yes I know said merasmus why do you think I made you come into the moist closet?" said merasums why do you think i
"I ran away since I had all the info I needed to incarcerate this runner scowt guy. The press will hang the guy for this!!
But I ran into something exceedingly hairy before I cud get anywherr? I looked up a long, long, tall way to see the aussie man gazing down upon me.
"Now listen ere mate... im gonna blow your ed up..." micky I mean Ricky had a gravelly low whispery moist damp voice like the sound of an australian man who lived in the australian land bushman bush man
micky I mean dickie said as he grbbed a hold of my sad little excuse for a hed. "That helmet will make a nice bowl for yer brains!"
"NooooOOOOOOOOOOOO0! WHAT if I told you I was a spy though?" I said.
"Then I would have to kill you even deader cuz I hate stupid bloody spyz." His eyes glinted with a glint of glint of irritate. Maybe he needed to poop or something. I giggled chuckled laughed nervously.
"That was actually a fat lie. I am not a stupid bloody spy."
"Oh okay."
The bushy bushman lept back into his leafy bushman house where he did bushman things and I sihed a sigh. Now I must get my informative essay of complete facts and logic into the world.
To be continood: 😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱💀💀💀💀💀🤔🤔🤔😳😳😳😱
