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/lit/ - Literature

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5287717 No.5287717[DELETED]  [Reply] [Original]

There was a bad guy. He was looking at a town. He was mad. He wanted to hurt people in the town he was looking at. Bad things were to happen

>> No.5287731

gEORGE was a little kissy-sissy. He loved his mommy more than he loved chocolate cake and he really liked chocolate cake which is probably why he weighed 400lbs at the age of 6. He grew up to be gay and died of AIDS a few weeks after diabetes took his left leg;

>> No.5287736

>>5287717
There was a bad guy and town. Angry stuff was going down

>> No.5287740

>>5287717
atrocious

>> No.5287751
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5287751

>>5287717
Dr Seuss did it!

>> No.5287762

>>5287717
Aight, so Trayvan was sittin on da stoop.
"aye man," he say, "i wanna get my dick sucked so wet dat I have flashbacks to Katrina, yo"

Mayne, he was a fuckin fool, man.

>> No.5287780

>>5287736
Better than OP.

>> No.5287826

It was early morning when Miroslav, an elderly man of Czech descent, awoke to find that his room had been sprayed with bullets. “Bloody hell,” he said, “not again.”

>> No.5287860

>>5287717
There was an OP. He was looking at his school. He was butthurt. He wanted to hurt people in the town he was looking at. Nothing was to happen.

>> No.5287914

And in one feverish climactic thrust , the old woman let out a howl and dropped dead atop my back.
Still shaking and in complete shock I forced my naked body to slowly crawl into the kitchen. Tears were streaming down my skin and I was drenched in sweat. I let out random lengths of hyperventilated breaths and my heart was a water pump pumping pressure to pipes ready to burst . My limp penis dragged along the floor as I moved.

>> No.5287986

>>5287717
When, in the course of human events, it comes time that along the ground, either living or dead, there may come a man, to whom some who observe may call him insane, some sane, but whereby his reactions can be shown, no doubt, to carry the burden of destruction from Beezlebub's own hand. Such a man, an illustrious man known the world about in fact, whom you must know, was sitting a-tippity-top a horse, contemplating on the villains what ripped his wife cruelly from his bosom, and made to rain hellfire on their sorry town for what had they done.

>> No.5288852

George puked on his mother's grave. ''Oops,'' he said.

>> No.5288856

>>5287986
shit kill slef

>> No.5288864

This thing, this orangutan, a yeti or shoe store's nightmare, this orange disease, unkempt and morose, squatted on its haunches, peering contemplatively out, wondered at the situation of its predicament, the consequence of its bearing itself to scrutiny, having believed, whilst scrawling in berry juice onto its cave, that its kind might be understood. But it was not understood, someone fired a rifle, then two more, then a mutiny of gunshots breaking the tall grass and the earth near his feet, running away covering his head and shrieking; all the threads of hope he'd maintained snapped from the centers and twirling broken to the ground. He sat, mouth agape with wonder, eyes apparently shadowed, thinking over past deeds, horrors, looking ahead--to hope, to renewal, to a new chance.

>> No.5288893

>>5287986
Sometimes, there's a man...
Sometimes there's a man.
And that man was the Dude, and the place was Los Angeles