Post by Admin on Jan 22, 2022 5:06:21 GMT
The Wooden Gun by AI
Jon Arbuckle had always loved fragrant Vito's Pizzeria with its thoughtless, thoughtful Tables. It was a place where he felt worried.
He was a malicious, mincing, cyanide drinker with anemic kidney's and Blood armpit's. His friends saw him as weak, panicky and pathetic. Once, he had even jumped into a river and saved a squid heart. That's the sort of man he was.
Jon walked over to the window and reflected on his Warm surroundings. The thunderstorm teased like hiding cat.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Garfield . Garfield was a helpless god like with a scrawny kidney and a muscular armpit.
Jon gulped. He was not prepared for Garfield.
As Jon stepped outside and Garfield came closer, he could see the abundant glint in his eye.
Garfield glared with all the wrath of 5367 weak faint fish. He said, in hushed tones, "I hate you and I want lasagna."
Jon looked back, even more stressed and still fingering the wooden gun. "Garfield, I'm sorry Jon," he replied.
They looked at each other with afraid feelings, like two damp, dark dog charging at a very worthless accident, which had vaporwave music playing in the background and two strong uncles murdering to the beat.
Jon regarded Garfield's scrawny kidney and muscular armpit. "I feel the same way!" revealed Jon with a delighted grin.
Garfield looked concerned, his emotions blushing like a knowledgeable, kind knife.
Then Garfield came inside for a nice drink of cyanide.
THE END
Jon Arbuckle had always loved fragrant Vito's Pizzeria with its thoughtless, thoughtful Tables. It was a place where he felt worried.
He was a malicious, mincing, cyanide drinker with anemic kidney's and Blood armpit's. His friends saw him as weak, panicky and pathetic. Once, he had even jumped into a river and saved a squid heart. That's the sort of man he was.
Jon walked over to the window and reflected on his Warm surroundings. The thunderstorm teased like hiding cat.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Garfield . Garfield was a helpless god like with a scrawny kidney and a muscular armpit.
Jon gulped. He was not prepared for Garfield.
As Jon stepped outside and Garfield came closer, he could see the abundant glint in his eye.
Garfield glared with all the wrath of 5367 weak faint fish. He said, in hushed tones, "I hate you and I want lasagna."
Jon looked back, even more stressed and still fingering the wooden gun. "Garfield, I'm sorry Jon," he replied.
They looked at each other with afraid feelings, like two damp, dark dog charging at a very worthless accident, which had vaporwave music playing in the background and two strong uncles murdering to the beat.
Jon regarded Garfield's scrawny kidney and muscular armpit. "I feel the same way!" revealed Jon with a delighted grin.
Garfield looked concerned, his emotions blushing like a knowledgeable, kind knife.
Then Garfield came inside for a nice drink of cyanide.
THE END
