I'm near the end of my rope here and I've only got a few strands left before I plummet into the depths of purgatory. It's no longer just a molehill, it is a mountain. I'm afraid there are millions. they call it Mordor.
satire has a deadline...please help!
I've battled with every possible defense known to man and folklore but failure is my only accomplishment. under the cover of darkness, I became Mario and slipped into the secret entrance with Kevin and Brittany in tow. if all else failed, the Spederline's love child was my last hope. the Beebe...surely, nothing can survive that. I was wrong. it was a trap and they lie in wait. an onslaught of Ephel Duath blitzed me from every direction. a bloodbath ensued yet somehow I escaped. battered and bruised, I'm hanging on for dear life. below me, a sea of beady red eyes moves violently in a broiling cauldron of undulation.
a hostile takeover is inevitable. I languish in humiliation, overwhelmed by a legion of woolly bean bags. I need help, a lifeline, some small glimmer of hope. send me your armies, send me your cousins, send me all of your women or there will be no more jive amalgamation.
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