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Here are the rules for voting:

1. You may vote for up to three stories. There is plenty of time so be sure to actually read all of these at least enough to know about the overall plot and whatnot (yes, even the long one.)

2. No voting for your own story if it is on the list.

3. No revealing who's story is who's. I will reveal then all later.

ALSO, round two will consist of the four writers who were voted for the most, and they will have a choice out of 20 prompts to write a new story for that round.

YOU may comment which writing prompts you want people to choose from in the next round. The twenty prompts that are most requested will be the choices in round two. Those participating may vote for the next prompts as well. I will record all votes and keep them organized.

Here are the stories:

No name 4 show

Chapter one

I was born in Kobald on the planet Sardak to a merchant father. He dealt mostly in plants and chips but occasionally he would smuggle a slave or two through to boost his income. His hair was thin and light, his face round and flabby, short yet flamboyant in his dress. His only joy in life was in cheating and swindling other people out of their money. My mother was a quiet woman, an ex-slave whom my father took fancy to and decided to take on as a wife. I remember her as being kind and caring to me and always thoughtful as to the needs of others. My father hated how submissive she was but she was beautiful and attended to his needs. 
My father never really wanted me but my mother begged him to let her keep me and he decided that when I grew up it would be good to have help in his shop. I grew up happy enough I suppose; I never really had much by way of friendships with the other boys in Kobald due to the fact that they were discouraged by their parents because of my father’s reputation. I loved my mother; she was always there for me whether I crashed my JetLift and broke my arm or landed in trouble in school for one thing or another. My father is another story, as a child it seemed that I could never please him; no matter what I tried to do it was always wrong. It bothered me but my mother was always there to assure me that it was all right and that I had done nothing that I hadn’t been supposed to. 
My first indicator that my father was out of control came when I was six, I had just got home from school and my mother had sent me to help my father. I walked in the door of the shop; it was a large, building, with expensive wood paneling, garish orange floor covering, and only the old dark yellow-burning light bulbs – as a result of my father not wanting to spend the money on the bright white-lit fusion lights - to pierce the gloom. I shut the door behind me and headed to the office to see what needed doing. I heard a man talking angrily and my father responding in a like tone. As I got closer the voices became clear and I could hear what was being said.
“...know you have it here somewhere! It’s mine, you hear? If I don’t get my shipment of Hovers back” The stranger said shaking his fist in my father’s face
“No! Nurk, y, y, you have this all wrong you lout! I h, h, have no such th, th, thing in my storage, I assure you! If I get word of where your stolen property is I’ll b, b, b, be sh, be sure to tell you immediately” stuttered my father.
“I’d better or else you’ll be awoken one morning by the sound of flash bombs falling on you and your family” threatened the strange man menacingly. 
“Most reasonable of course Nurk” said my father “a real pleasure doing business with you as always.” He said the last part with a bit of a sneer; his composed look returning to his face.
The man my father called Nurk stood there breathing hard for another minute staring down my father before turning and striding out the door, nearly bowling me over as he brushed by. As soon as Nurk was out of sight my father’s smirk turned into a horrible grimace, his entire face was reddened with anger. 
“How dare he threaten me like that!” he shouted “How does he think he can get away with that kind of threat and expect no consequences!?”
I spoke up then and asked him “Father, what was he talking about stolen Hovers?”
I realized after I finished speaking that I’d said exactly the wrong thing.
“You!” He spun to face me with a menacing leer on his face. “How much of that did you hear?” he demanded.
“N, n, nothing sir.” said I, too frightened by his expression to tell the truth.
“The hell you heard nothing! You heard everything. If you tell anyone I’ll, I’ll...”He made a twisting motion between his two fists as his voice changed to a sputter having lost his words to a fit of anger. 
I stumbled back, scared. I’d seen him angry before but this, this was insane! I’d done nothing but listen in and he was talking his anger out on me. I began to realize what was coming so I started creeping slowly backwards towards the door.
He caught my movement though and leapt at me, I tried to turn and run but he was too fast for me and pinned me to the ground before I was able to take three steps. He kept one foot on my back as he reached for his camel whip on the wall. “A good lashing is just what you need to teach you not to listen at doors!” he screamed at me in his rage.
Then his arm fell.

Chapter Two

After the incident in the shop my father’s temper kept getting worse. It was only after a while that I learned that he was under investigation from the Kobald police. It seems that his friend Nurk had reported him on something and while they never caught him, the police certainly scrutinized my father far more carefully than before.
Time passed and things seemed to be getting better and calmer, the searches becoming less and less frequent until one day my father came home from the shop in a rage. Apparently the chief had just sprung a surprise inspection on the shop when there was a slave in the basement hold. By sheer luck they were called away at the last minute by some explosion at the square. My father was furious with from the fright, had they seen the slave they would have lopped his head clean off right then and there; no questions asked. I was eleven.
When he came in the door his face was eggplant purple and I, being young, asked him “Father, why is your face that weird color?”
“Never you mind, brat!” he replied, as he swept me aside with one arm. 
“What’s wrong, dear?” asked my mother kindly, “Did something happen at the store?”
He did not respond, he only stormed through the house and collapsed in his chair.

My mother walked slowly over to him and knelt by his feet and asked him again, “What happened, dear? Was it another search?”
He began to shout now, his words loud in the small space. “YES THERE WAS A SEARCH YOU STUPID WOMAN! I CAME WITHIN THIS CLOSE” here he held up two fingers an inch apart “FROM BEING PUT TO THE KNIFE!” His last words came out as more of a high-pitched shriek than a shout. 
“Relax darling, it’s okay now, it’s okay.” My mother said in an attempt to sooth my father’s anger.
“NO! IT’S BLOODY WELL NOT OKAY, KOBALD POLICE CAME THAT CLOSE TO FINDING OUT ABOUT IT WHICH MEANS THAT THEY WILLL GET THAT CLOSE AGAIN! NEXT TIME THEY WILL PROBABLY FIND THE PIT EVEN AND THEN WE’RE REALLY SCREWED!” He shrieked, shaking with a combination of annoyance at his wife’s attempts to calm him down and his fear-shock. I saw his fingers twitch from my place at the door.
“Just stay here and I’ll get you a nice cup of something warm and a bite to eat.” said my mother in a quiet voice.
That was too much for my father in his state. He leapt forward at my mother grabbing at her throat, my mother screamed; a long drawn out cry that was cut short by my father’s hands finding their mark. I ran forward to try to help my mother but at my young age, me pummeling my father’s back had no effect other then him booting me across the room. I saw my mother’s hands scrabbling at his fists clenched around her throat but he was to strong for her, as I watched, I saw her hands go limp but he did not release her yet. I knew that was the end.
I ran out of the house then and ran to the end of our street where I knew an officer was stationed. 
“Officer, my father is strangling my mother and I think she’s already d, d, d, dead.” I broke down towards the end of my sentence as my words made true what I wished weren’t. 
“Take me there,” commanded the officer.
I lead him down the street at a run and stopped in front of my house. He had been talking into his chip the whole way there and I got the gist of the conversation that the police dispatch was sending out a van to collect my father. 
The officer burst in the door and yelled, “STOP, THIS IS THE POLICE, STAND STRAIGHT WITH YOUR HANDS UP, AND DO NOT MOVE!” he said in a quieter tone, “Where is he, son?”
I told him, sobbing, “L, l, last door a, at the end of th, the hallway.”
He rushed through the house just in time to see my father trying to make an escape out the window. The officer quickly froze him with his nerve-ray and quickly strode across the room the look at my mother.
“I’m sorry son, but she’s gone.” He said in a quiet, calm tone. “Wait just a few minutes and someone will come to take care of you while this all gets sorted out.”

Ten minutes after the freezing of my father, a large crew pulled up; sirens wailing; to the curb in front of our house. A team of ten men and five crime scene autonomous scanners jumped out and came quickly inside. My father was transferred; still in his frozen state, to the van, my whole house was photographed and scanned, and an ambulance called to take my mother away to be put into an electric fusion chamber to keep her from decaying before the trial.
A kind woman arrived who told me that I was going to be living with her temporarily until better arraignments could be made. She took me out of the building that used to be my home. It now looked closer to an anthill with all the people running this way and that scanning and analyzing the scene. During the flight to my temporary home the news feed on the dash was showing a police raid being conducted in my father’s shop alternating with clips of my old home.
The reporter was saying, “Kobald police have been searching this shop on main since the proprietor was arrested this morning for murdering his wife. We have the Kobald chief here at the station for comment. Chief, what have you been doing all day after getting the news?”
“We have been active all day clearing the shop owned by this man and getting all good catalogued and valued as well as photographing the man’s house and property.” replied the chief of Kobald police
“Could you give us a little more information as to the contents of his shop?” questioned the reporter.
“Yes, well, we have so far catalogued over two million credits in legal goods, 5 million in illegal goods and one emaciated slave that we discovered in a basement pit. This man has been under investigation for slavery and goods smuggling for years now but we’ve never managed to pin anything on him. He was good at hiding his activity that’s for sure.” answered the chief.
“Wow, I thought that with slavery was outlawed and all...”
That was when my new caretaker cut off the feed. “No need for you to hear all of that, darling. You’ve got a long life ahead of you to hear that it all.” 
I soon arrived at the home of my guardian. It was a nice house, small but with a clean, charming air about it that I took a liking to instantly. It was painted light, clean, airy colors that gave it an appearance of being much larger than it actually was.
“Your bedroom is the second door on the left.” My guardian told me. “My name’s Amanda by the way. Please call me by it. Go along; make yourself comfortable, I’ll put something on for us to eat.
I headed down the hallway to check out my new quarters, it was a nice neat, clean room that matched the rest of the house. I took an instant liking to it. My dinner was a casserole that Amanda had made the day before. She was talkative and we chatted all through the meal until she finally said, “The trial’s been set early for tomorrow, you’ll be called up to speak so you should get some rest.”

“Goodnight Amanda” I said and headed off to sleep. As I was lying in bed I thought again of my mother and remembered that I would never see her again. In that moment I hated my father, I hated him from the bottom of my heart. Then the thought of my mother’s soft smile sent me into tears and I fell asleep crying.

(All rights reserved by Adler, in other words, do not steal)

No title 3 show

CoolApps and ChampionLeake are mean moderators.
They are bullies.
They bully me.
Don't listen to any explanation they give you.
They are good liars.


No name 2 show

I recenty moved into a new house, it was an old house they said, but, it looked almost as if it was untouched. Then I found this book, I tried to open it but I couldn't, I was trying to open it for a few minutes, but it just wouldn't budge. I gave up and went t sleep. I couldn't recall my dream, but all I remember is this strange figure. I had saw this figure before, or atleast I think I did, I was 4, I saw him when I was outside one day. It's strange though, I had only remembered that one thing when I was 4 and my mother said I fell and hit my head on a rock when I was 4, but I digress, the next day I tried again, I could almost open it, but just not quite. I tried again the next day and got no results, same with the day after. Frusterated, I threw the book torwards the wall. I could've sworn I heard a voice. It sounded like "You're Choice". I decided to pick it up and read. "Chapter 1", there were no words. All the other pages had no words as well. Except.... for the last page. It read, "Beyond". That was it. I put the book back. 

The dream I had I remembered exactly, I was dreaming that someone rich and powerful was beside me and everyone loved him. I then stole his money and ran off. The figure was in this dream too. This.... thing had red eyes, a black suit, and a hat that covered his eyes. The dream ended there. When. I went downstais, the book was open, how strange.... I never opened it last night. I may have been sleepwalking, back when I was seven my brother told me I sleepwalked and repeated strange phrases like "He is beside us" and "Do not be decieved". It was strange alright. The book had more words somehow, I was a bit afraid to read again, but then I thought well, it's just a random page, maybe I had missed it. The page just had a picture of some guy who's body was covered with a large blue coat, and he appeared to be burning a book. I looked for the next page, they were all blank again. I was unhappy and went to sleep.

I had another dream, I was robbing a bank, all that money I somehow managed to fit in my pocket. The figure was there as well, it shook his head in disappointment this time. I decided to look in the book again, I saw nothing, so I went outside to take a walk. There was this little dog who bit off my coat and ripped it apart with his teeth. The woman apologized and I said it was okay. I could have sworn I saw the figure, I decided to run to the store, to make sure it didn't follow me. I bought a new coat, it was big and blue, it was the only one on sale. When I got home I checked the book again. The final page appeared, I don't mean it was there, it just popped from the page, I can't explain it. It read, "Jealousy, Greed, but always decieved, whether big or small, one may look good evil, but does one really hold up to that title? Flaws, they are common, every being has one, with every flaw there is a good thing. Perhaps today is not the day." I was thinking more about the words popping out than the poem. I showed the book to my brother and he simply said,"What book?" When I looked to my hand I saw that the book was not there. I then thought to myself, perhaps that wasn't an unkown figure, nor was it a devil or demon. Maybe that figure....was God....

Metamorphosis show


We are walking down the sandpath. People are walking amused by the nice weather to the left and right of me. 
"Is this a nice spot?" 
"Sure", I reply. With some hestitation father gets the picknick carpet out of the bucket and spreads it on the grass, in the shadow of a nice tree. He puts down the bucket, and takes out the jam and butter. Suddenly he passes out. "Dad?" There comes no reply. "Dad!?" Again, I do not receive an answer. "Daddy! What's wrong?!" A long, sharply colored wasp flies right in front of me. As straight as a statue, I keep standing. 

With a whack the door slams. "Vince!" I hear from upstairs. 
"You are home! How was your day?" 
"Meh, kinda hard" 
"Why that?" 
"There was a Volvo from the museum with motor damage. Very hard to restore." 
I hear my own voice coming from the background: "Hello! Hello! Lorre!" 
"Has Siti been fed yet?" 
"No, the food is used up. I was just about to leave for the pet shop." 
With a kiss I greet her, after that she walks out the door. I really love Natasja. How could I live without her? Plumped on the bench, I look at the picture of me and my father. Still I get emotional seeing it. And it was 27 years ago... Still I fear wasps. Still I'm not cured from my childhood trauma. 

A catterpillar is creeping. Suddenly, he looks back. He is looking at the duck right behind him. The duck croaks indignantly. The catterpillar gets mad. It bursts slowly, releasing a bright white light. When the light has finally faded, there is no catterpillar anymore. Only a long, sharply colored wasp. The duck is schocked, and falls down his nest. 
The alarm clock rings. Still half sleeping I look at the clock. 6:00? Damn, I got to get up again. While leaving the house, I hear a strange sound behind me. I look behind me, but I can't see anything weird. I look up, and see Jack. "Damn it! Get off there! What the heck are you doing on my roof?!" 
"Oh... Hi Vince... I didn't know you get up that early..." 
"Yes, that's because you are always still sleeping in that box of you when I leave my house, stupid! I'm so fed up with it now! I'm going to declare you to the police!" 
"Come on, we are friends, right?" 
I roll my eyes. "Pfft... friends. You should just find a job, slacker!" 
"Yes yes, find a job. Just leave now!" 
"First get off that stupid roof!" 
"Okay okay..." he murmurs. He hobbles half drunk to one side of the roof. 
"Yes yes..." He hobbles a bit faster. All of a sudden, a yell is heard. He slips and falls off the roof. I'm astonished. I run to him. "JACK!" But it is too late. No reply. No movement. No life. 

Déjà vu. I've seen this before... No, I didn't. I haven't seen a thing before. I'm innocent. I know nothing. 

The catterpillar is walking through a nice colored field with a bear. It is a quiet walk, untill the dam breaks. The catterpillar tries to flee, while the bear refuses. He wants to save the owl, who needs help. The bear runs towards the owl. But he bumps against a wasps nest. A long, sharp colored wasp comes out of it. He is angry and stabs the bear to death. 

Ah... weekend... finally. I enter the lift. I press button four. The lift goes up. I get out and walk to the right. I walk down the passage and look at the decorations. I actually do not think they are pretty. I look to the left. 202, 204, 206, 208; Jack Dirkson. I am there. I press the bell. I wait for a while, then the door opens. 
"Wow, you are early." 
"Ten minutes..." I say. 
"Yes, that's early, right?" 
"It's what you call early." 
"Come inside", Jack says while walking inside the room 
"Hey, new carpet." 
"Yes, I thought it was about..." 
A very loud alarm is heard. 
"!", shouts Jack. 
"What is happening?" I ask. 
We run out of the room, and are going to the emergency exit, when we are hearing a yell for help from behind us. 
"A sea of fire!" I hear Jack shout. 

...Sea of fire?... 
Sea... of... Fire? 

"I've got to save her!" I hear from beside me. 
"Don't do it! We have to get out of here! Now! You won't survive it yourself!" My voice is like a motor making overspeed. 
"I'm not going to let anyone die in front of my eyes!" 
"Me neither! Come!" 
He neglects me and runs to the room surrounded by flames. 
"Jack, don't do it!" 
My voice bounced back like a ball against a wall. The ceiling is coming down right above Jack's head. After five seconds falling it hits Jack's head, in slowmotion blood splatters fly in every direction. "JACK! !" But there is no Jack anymore. There is stone. My legs run both in another direction. One towards Jack, the other towards the emergency exit. But my head wasn't there anymore to lead them. No... I have to get out. But what about Jack? I will be squashed myself! With a feeling of guilty and chaos in my head I run towards the emergency exit. 

I swear... I saw this coming... 
The sea of flames. Did I have some kind of vision? I don't really believe in that kind of stuff. But it really seemed so. Then what did it mean? Sea of flames, for the flood, I guess. 
The long, sharp colored wasp... Death. 
The bear? I guess it's Jack, he was the one getting stabbed. Yes, it must have been Jack, he has the perseverance of a bear. 
The catterpillar? ... I must have been that. 

The catterpillar is walking together with a dog. They are having fun, and aren't paying attention anymore. Suddenly a long, Sharp colored wasp flies in the mouth of the dog. The dog struggles for his life, but falls down to the ground and thousands of wasps flie out of his body. 

Huh? Oh damn! Again! What was this? Ok, so I'm the catterpillar... Dog? I think it must mean something... What is a dog? Damn, I don't know. Suddenly a wasp comes in. A planned action? Or an accident? No! This can't happen again! Can I stop it? Or is this dream just fake? Ugh... 

"What's wrong?" Natasja ask at the breakfast table. 
"Oh, I thought so, you are looking so musing." 
"I was just thinking about something" 
"Okay. Shall we finally go to the shopping mall this afternoon?" 
"Uh... Ok." 

It is afternoon. We are on our way to the shopping mall. What a beatiful weather. It sure is a nice day. 
"And, are you also going to buy anything?" asks Natasja 
"No, why?" 
"Well, you could use something new" 
"Like what?" 
"Well... clothes. Or a wig, haha" 
Laughing she runs away. Giggling I see her reach the cross-roads. ! We are having fun! And a dog is faithful, like Natasja! And it happens when not expected... She's gonna die! 

"Haha! Nice try!" 
"I swear it! Stop!" 
She just keeps running. Fast Vince! Think! 

"I am cheating on you!" 
"WHAT?" Like transformed in a statue she keeps standing right in front of the cross-roads. 
She was just about to turn around, when a truck crashes at full speed on the cross-roads. It turns over, and over, and over, and catches fire. 

The butterfly is flying, together with the same dog. They are having fun, like usual. But then a long, Sharp colored wasp appears. His eyes are sparkling, and at full speed he reaches for the butterfly. But the butterfly provokes. He is not scared. He just stays at the same place. The wasp loses speed slowly, losing his color. Just before the butterfly it falls into pieces. 

The alarm clock rings again. Huh? Again? Who was that butterfly? 
Me. The wasp is dead. 

Mr. Chan's Nightmare show

Mr. Chan was a 23 year old man who lived with his mother in her basement. He suffered major diabetes and had an unusually small penis, but nothing could defeat his most deadliest disease... FAP. That's right, he had Four-Chan Addiction Problems. In fact, because of how poor this fugly ginger is, we'll just take away the 'Mr.' in his name. Like said earlier, if you're even paying attention to this fest Chan was addicted to 4chan, but eventually, he would be sorry.

One day, Chan the Faggot was in his mother's basement using 4chan. His friends(a pencil and some used up tissue) tried telling him that one day, 4chan would haunt him for good, but Chan ignored them. He told them that blinking and looking at the clock is his daily workout. Speaking of clock, he struggled to check it just then.

"9:00pm!" Chan spoke through layers of fat and tears, "time for bed!" Chan never turned off the computer, because that would mean that he would actually have to get up and turn the monitor off. He continued with his bedtime routine. First, Chan got his  bucket so he could take a crap before bed.

Since crapping would mean he would have to move his arms and pull down his pants, his alcoholic mom cut a hole for him to piss and crap. He then brushed his teeth by rubbing snot on his finger, and grinding it against his few remaining teeth(which he named after 4chan boards).

At last, it was time for his bedtime. He was scared of the dark, so he put on his Hello Kitty nightlight by searching /a/ for p0rno of Hello-Kitty. Like a baby, a big fat dumb whiny-ass . I mean, he slept right there in his chair. "Good night, 4chan..." he suffered to say as he drifted off to sleep. "Do you think this is the day he gets haunted?" pencil asked the used up tissue who was doing a tank of PCP. "Eyyyyyyyyy man..." was the tissue's only reply.

Chan had a dream. In his dream, he woke up in the wonderful land of 4chan. He used to be muscular in his dreams, but like real life, he's still a fatass. "Woah, I in 4chan!" Chan shouted. He looked around and gasped. "Just like I imagined," he turned to a big fountain, "the Fountain of fests and Drowning /b/tards!" he started to salivate, but quickly stopped after remembering his doctor(an empty bag of Nature Snacks) told him that salivating would give him a heart attack.

The faggot looked around. He saw just as he imagined the people would be: pedobears, alcoholics, trolls, retards, and neckbeards, people who think they're edgy, you name it! But Chan noticed something so awesome, he had to take a moment to check his heart rate so he wouldn't die in his dreams! 

"Hey, fatas-- I mean... hey kid, I have candy in the trunk of my suspicious white van!" a pedobear who reeked of stench told him. "CANDY!" Chan orgasmed while touching his boobs. Chan ran as fast as he could(1mph) told the trunk that had clearly visible dead bodies in it.

When it closed, he looked at the dead body with his night vision that he had since he always stayed in a dark room. When he looked at the dead bodies, he shrugged it off. He heard the crying of fat kids and retards. He shrugged that off. But then, he noticed something scary; an empty and torn up bag of Doritos! 

"I have to get out of this... this STUPID DORITO MURDERING MEANIE POPPY FACE'S VAN!" he told himself. He grabbed the bag of Doritos and gave it CPR, but instead got a heart attack. Oh, the bag of Doritos also died, for your information.

Chan woke up in a meth lab that was turning chocolate bars, chips, and pizza into hot naked women. Nobody was there, but he knew he had to save the American meals. This dream was turning into a nightmare. He wanted to finally have sex in a dream with his pizza babe. He just wanted... pizza to spurt out it's grease into his layers of fat and agony and just stick a Cheeto down his mouth...

The fatass snapped back to reality. He snook up on the machine until he farted. The machine looked at him and a bunch of obese bronies waddled in. They got in a circle and summoned their god, Octo-Moleshrek. It was Princess Molestia and Shrek morphed together with Octo-Dad.

Chan started crying his digested food from earlier. He then snapped and grabbed the Play-boy Bunny out of his ass(he used his ass as a storage holder). The Play-boy bunny showed Octo-Moleshrek gay furry teenaged vampire emo wolf fanfictions and the bronies' God melted.

"Nooooooooo!" one of them cried out. Christoper Poole, the maker of 4chan ran in. "Fat ass 4chan dweller, why?! That was our god!" the man cried out. Mr. Poole started to melt, "that was our God! Chan the Faggot... you're banned from /b/!" "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Chan got down on his knees and started to cry.

Chan shot up, startled. He looked around the basement. His two only friends were there, fast asleep, and the Hello Kitty porn was still on. He tried to speak, but his voice crackled. "Maybe I should work out..." Chan realized. He pulled a donut he'd been saving for a midnight snack out of his ass and ate it. "Tomorrow, I am a new person," Chan shouted. "CHAN, SHUT THE  UP, MOMMY IS HAVING SEX" his alcoholic mother shouted.

Chan became a happy man a few years later, with a wife and one boy. He was 5000 pounds before, but now he is only 136. He dropped the last name of Chan and his new last name was Monopoly. That's right, this story was about Mr. Monopoly, suck it! He worked as the CEO of Google. When he got home, it was deja-vu.

"Daddy, what's 4chan?" his son asked.

No name show

Carlos the taco-lover mexican show

carlos the mexican goes to a store . he buys ingredients to make a big ass taco so he could put it up his arse
the clerk looks at him wierdly and says 
- R u a mexican ???
- wats a mexican
- R u dum ???
- ya
- knew it lol
the clerk pulls up a rifle from the shelf
- Ew Ur a mexican !!! adios illegaliano
the cleck shoots
carlos the mexican then points his arse
the bullet goes thru his arsehol, the bullet got so disgusted that it went back
the clerk doges the bullet
"didnt kno mexicans had asses lol"
the clerk then finds a burritoe inside his boxers then throws it at carlos
the burritoe kills carlos

the end

3DSPlaza's 5th Anniversary show

3DSPlaza: Prediction of the 5th Anniversary

*Robdeprop rides around on a giant Robdeprop float, as upbeat music plays and everyone is cheering

Robdeprop: Hello, fellow Plazians! I am the one and only Robdeprop! You are all sexy!

Lani: Heheh, Rob is kind of cute.

*SL rides around on a giant SomeLuigi float; music stops, and everyone stops cheering


Zeta: *scopes SL from a cliff at the edge of 3DSPlaza* No more... SL is not black. It was just my imagination.

*SL slowly falls to his death and off of the float as everyone screams

TLE: Come on, Proto. You got this.

Sackacuga: You're right. I've just gotta go up to her.

* He slides in next to Hilly with sunglasses on

Sackacuga: Hey, Hilly. What's up?

sasuke: You know, just ignoring you.


Lani: Attention, everyone! An announcement! We have a new mod! He is active, dependable, and is secretly my boyfriend. Introducing, imanub27!

Gold: lol who is imanub27

imanub27: me uf coars

Robdeprop: *unsheathing sword* You!

*Rob and imanub27 begin to sword fight, and then Lani tackles Rob

Lani: Back off my man!

If you wanted to be in the contest, it's not two late! Pm me your stories you wish to enter and a second writing tournament will eventually be created that will merge with this one in the semi finals.

Posted on 2015-08-20 14:23:48 by AntiChrist

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