"Well, call me a minor ailment," replied Bill, to what, was mystery that, if solved, would explain largely, the quantum theory of matter and the problem of the effect of yams on rubber shoe souls, all in one saut de la kill. But, no-one understood it, and so quantum matter and yams remained wholly unsolved.
But, hey, that's it, he thought because his locker was an impossible shade and he LIKED it... I guess.
"I only THINK I had a colt .44 in my car." But, it wasn't going to work. A hole in the fabric of exsistance opened itself and sucked him down, made a good meal of his empty shell of a body, and burped loudly, which was rude, in front of all those dinner guests. It WAS after all the Hall of Asgard. The new guy was quite...well, new(synonyms are SO inconvienient). He was tall(5 ft.), wide(5 ft.) and his head was of a normal radius(5 ft.). His eyes were stange(blue), his hard was orthodox(blue) and his feet were large(blue).
-The moral of the story: "Don't fuck with mother nature"
-A greek saying, from a cathlic greek in wyoming.