T'was a murky morning in the land of
Dildondus, and everyone was
Suddenly a herald from the opposing kingdom of
Supercalafradgelisticexpealadociousantidisestablishmentarianismfloccinaucinihilipilification, as their inferior waffles had
been abducted by the mole-people.
and the moles said the Supercalafradgelisticexpealadociousantidisestablishmentarianismfloccinaucinihilipilifications were next due to them not being hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia friendly.
Luckily the Kingdom of Dildondus didn't give a fuck since they opposed the kingdom of Supercalafradgelisticexpealadociousantidisestablishmentarianismfloccinaucinihilipilification, nailing the herald's hat to his head and going to the pub for a quick
Sex On The Beach, but it turned out the pub was a literal drinks pub, and he ended up having sex with
myself, at which point I wondered, how much meth DID I smoke today?
then I realised, I was Walter White which, quite frankly, explained alot...
But then suddenly,
the village alarm ukulele sounded!
It was time for the village to dance to the Bee Gees, however one person did not dance
at which point the mole people came up and said "You should be dancing...yeah" and shot him.
luckily he already stashed away all is gold, which he looted in the cave of
The Supercalafradgelisticexpealadociousantidisestablishmentarianismfloccinaucinihilipilification kingdom. He stole all this gold to pay off his
mother, for all the pancakes she had brought for his
pet sloth, which was also a alcoholic and turned out to be the great
hero destined to overthrow the waffle loving mole-people