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redient evil for: out brakes

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This is an intentionally ridiculous fanfic (hence the title) open for anyone who wants to add to it. It's not meant to be spam and I didn't see anything in the rules that said anything against this.

It's an RE story (obviously) inspired by the hilarity of this post (which you should checkout first in order to understand this one). I understand it was helled, but I think it was due to the fight that broke out at the end. I had originally posted this at an RE fan site and got good feedback, despite it's nonsensical jabbering (the last 2 chapters are different than the others). Here goes...

CHAPTER 1: "It bengins..."

It was thursday the 29ninth. I was on m y whery to the dimp when a barrage of ganadalfs were eon my taint. "OUT IS AYS~" to them but mine s ot gun woil'nt leod. It sarted 2 rayne, but teh m0nk3ys woukn't stomp. I fured 3 rounds at the dick and he dibed, but the bleod was infestec with las plugas. "ON HO!" i creid as teh dribble doth spaketh. Ashles was in teh crutch and el higantay was eating her o wt. I raieds my flmaing rod and shouted out the magica el worbs to say teh l33ts. "I AM THE ALMIGHTY MASUCA THING! I WILL DESTRYOS j00!" adnt eh higantay dropes Ashels and I's the hero wunce moor til a gandayo came iand ate her from me. "ON HO!" ciedsed and hit swas tiem yo go fight hers zahisns.

CHAPTER 2: "Flies to teh angles..."

Out came the sun and dried up all th er ain and i se to up the spot again. Ashles was wondering in teh wibbince and i needed to fin some mercants os i cuols dell the spinal in my pocky. BUt th e merco was a gandolfini an d he tried to liklc me. "ON HO!" I credi as he slahesd eb my weribbance. I died the end.

CHAPTER 3: "I'm not ded...."

I dint rlle die i was jocking. But muntz l8er was teh annal feast if teh water biffalo. i wente tear wit Ashles cuz were marred now. Shw gvies gud hed. Anywiz i s a girl manage r at McyDs and i makss good snatch. "I'm a break you in 2 homeboy!" she cried inare's honey munmt. L8er taht day i 's made a milksha kesand i's mcdounelsa wonts to feir me. I creid teh end.

CHAPTER 4: "It's not teh end d.d..."

I'm jociking asain. Lorb Zatrler wanted to f my bic but tshe ebssa to meh what ar tu deion gto her dhse ad n teh plugas was in my bodie. I said to her "ON HO!" i cerid "BLUD! Hope tehs is not CrHis's blut!" but I sliped my fruit punch and forgot to finsh my suop. This was bad tbut neot the end.

CHAPTER 5: "Still not the ends"

Teh end

CHAPTER 6: "No one lieks this sotry!111!"

"oooH jane Pauley, you make me so mad!" I said to the ashleys. "Why don't you pla y ga me of hid n go fuck urslef?!" "I'ma comin' over there to make yu my bitch, bithc!" said Shels as me shot me in th ebutt with a boat load of tranquilizers. "Who wants to feel my squirrly wrath, you know?" "I dunno, "said I and shot myself in the foot.

Just then, the dead body of a male, along with female s an abies said to me "HEy! Goboer! Where's the meet?" and we all had a heartly laugheroo. The end.


CHAPTER 8.5^0.5(2): Part 3Threeve

When I wrote the following pages, or rather the bulk of them, I lived alone, in the woods, a mile from any neighbor, in a house which I had built myself, on the shore of Walden Pond, in Concord, Massachusetts, and earned my living by the labor of my hands only. I lived there two years and two months. At present I am a sojourner in civilized life again.

I should not obtrude my affairs so much on the notice of my readers if very particular inquiries had not been made by my townsmen concerning my mode of life, which some would call impertinent, though they do not appear to me at all impertinent, but, considering the circumstances, very natural and pertinent. Some have asked what I got to eat; if I did not feel lonesome; if I was not afraid; and the like. Others have been curious to learn what portion of my income I devoted to charitable purposes; and some, who have large families, how many 10 poor children I maintained. I will therefore ask those of my readers who feel no particular interest in me to pardon me if I undertake to answer some of these questions in this book. In most books, the I, or first person, is omitted; in this it will be retained; that, in respect to egotism, is the main difference. We commonly do not remember that it is, after all, always the first person that is speaking. I should not talk so much about myself if there were anybody else whom I knew as well.

Unfortunately, I am confined to this theme by the narrowness of my experience. Moreover, I, on my side, require of every writer, first or last, a simple and sincere account of his own life, and not merely what he has heard of other men’s lives; some such account as he would send to his kindred from a distant land; for if he has lived sincerely, it must have been in a distant land to me. Perhaps these pages are more particularly addressed to poor students. As for the rest of my readers, 20 they will accept such portions as apply to them. I trust that none will stretch the seams in putting on the coat, for it may do good service to him whom it fits.

CHAPTER 9exp(0): Two tales of Richard III's great expectation of cities.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness . . . it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair . . . in short, the period was so far like the present period . . .

My father's family name being Pirrip, and my Christian name Philip, my infant. tongue could make of both names nothing longer or more explicit than Pip . . .

Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer by this son of York . . .

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I made it more for my own amusement actually, I just posted it here as an homage to the "Doom 4" post. I also posted it months ago, found the old post at the RE forum, and copy/pasted it here...so I don't really care if no one likes it, and if it gets helled, I won't do it again.

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