Trogdor
Legendary Hero
Words in a custom title
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posted December 13, 2004 11:29 AM |
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A story....... as such
It was a cold monday morning, but the neanderthals didn't know about the moon or the days or anything else. When Mr Cavey went to work, he heard a strange noise. That strange noise was the dinosaur invasion.
"Muggennuggendygooga" exclaimed Mr Cavey, who was petrified, afraid of everything that happened that cold monday morning, but he didn't feel the cold. He went back home, looking for some sort of baseball bat, hidden behind a dart board, which was not patented yet. He got his bat and left.
"Yurapeeneshuggathinny" screamed our screwed up hero, in a fit of rage. Apparently he was transported into the middle ages. Where dart boards were abound in pubs and there was a pub with an air hockey table, and a rather primitive one at that. He tried it out, but it collapsed on his foot. He was taken to a doctor, halfway back to his new home. The doctor gave him some pills implanted into his foot, but Mr Cavey didn't feel at all comfortable.
He spent the next few weeks in his home, watching birds get killed by lions and primitive soccer games. After the foot was healed, he went to the field and tried out this soccer thing, and was at it like a pro. The next decade was a godsend, as women loved him and men admired his skills. He retired age 40.
A few years after retirement from soccer, after many fishing trips, he was given the pub by a man called Steve. While there he became a darts champion, winning major tournaments year after year after year. But on one quiet Friday night, things went worse. A man grabbed his darts and threw them in his head. The darts were poisonous, and Mr Cavey died on the scene.
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"Through the power of the dollar you can communicate with the dead." - Artu
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posted December 13, 2004 11:55 AM
