The Weirdest And Randomest Story In The Entire World

Rewrote some of Bonfire Nights on Slimy Horses

I don't know, I just need to write so I'll do it here.I'll rewrite something, anything I find.I'll rewrite something from when I was younger.

「It was a damp,Winter night.Gregory,9,was furiously playing Grand Theft Auto on his decapitated horse.He had the thickest unibrow that no one would ever dare challenge.Ben,Gregory's 93 year old younger sister,was licking his unibrow passionately.You could observe the Donaldly love between the two Hippos with a knife.

Jerald,12,was on his phone,typing to his dog on the other side about Bonfire Knights on Slimy Horses.Odilah,Jerald's Mother,age 6,was making Ben a warm,Tasty onion broth with her toes.

"Mother,could you make me some Tea?"Jerald asked from the other room.

His mother rushed into Jerald's bedroom.

"What have you become,child?"She asked in a quiet Tone,displaying a petrified face.

"Run,My child.Run."Jerald replied.

She turned without hesitation and scampered as fast as her appendix could take her.」

－The humid, winter air set the Christmas atmosphere in the home as 9 year old Gregory's nimble thumbs fiddled with a PlayStation controller.He sat on a horse, its head precisely cut off, as if to be displayed as a work of art. The boy was focused on the crisp quality of the game shown on his television, Grand Theft Auto V. Ben,Gregory's younger sister, aged 93, licked his infamous unibrow with unwavering passion; thick, dark hairs laced upon his brow - none would ever dare challenge it.With just a knife, you could observe the Donaldly love between the two hippos.

The humid, winter air set the Christmas atmosphere in the home as 9 year old Gregory's nimble thumbs fiddled with a PlayStation controller.He sat on a horse, its head precisely cut off, as if to be displayed as a work of art. The boy was focused on the crisp quality of the game shown on his television, Grand Theft Auto V. Ben,Gregory's younger sister, aged 93, licked his infamous unibrow with unwavering passion; thick, dark hairs laced upon his brow - none would ever dare challenge it.With just a knife, you could observe the Donaldly love between the two hippos.

Jerald lazed around, his phone in one hand and his other draped over the couch's arm. The 12 year old boy reached to open WhatsApp, his short thumb straining in the general direction the green and white app symbol on the dimly lit screen.

'Bonfire Nights On Slimy Horses' he tapped on the keyboard at an excruciating speed. Meanwhile, as the teen typed, his 6 year old mother brewed an onion broth that Gordon Ramsay wouldn't dare to hold a torch to. It evoked an undescribable pleasant tingle that ripped across one's tongue, rendering the lucky taster temporarily paralysed. Some say his mother, Odilah, could defeat a Minotaur with a drop of her life juice. She tenderly stirred the broth with a wooden spoon in her toes.

Jerald sunk lower in the chair, his tiredness evident.

"Mother, could you make me some tea?" He carelessly uttered, staring at the clock. It was way past his bedtime. He watched the Hand tick away, bringing him closer to sleep.

Suddenly,  Jerald felt an unnerving presence enter the room. At the same time, this presence almost felt... scared. He had the upper hand.

Jerald turned towards the source of his suspicions, and he saw her. Her dilated pupils. Her shivering figure. The hair raised on her skin. Her trembling lip. No words were needed to communicate the fear his mother felt as he stood before him.

"What have you become, child?" She said, barely audible;her legs almost bucking beneath her. She was ghostly pale - her once onion coloured cheeks were now comparable to a sheet of paper.

A sisnister grin lit up Jerald's features before he screamed :"Run, my child. Run."

Odilah immeadiately turned in the opposite direction and scampered away as fast as her appendix could take her, her legs previously rendered useless from Jerald's dark energy.