No, really, it's behind you...

I made a speech -> Yay! It wasn't exactly a speech you'd expect (well, from me you would expect something like that) but oh well. I only wrote it down four times; it's not like I-

My fellow Aluminums:

Today, is a day of change for our people. Today, is the day when a new era begins, and the ashes of the last is put in a pot on the mantel piece, next to the photo of William Shatner. Today, Lord Zaros takes his place among the seats of those who didn't want to sit on the lower level. Because Jeremy Clarkson was also sitting there.

Anyway, I shall now go and do something else. Farewell, my brave chicken caesar salads.

- keep repeating everywhere, right Marky?

*Hehehe,* thought Lord Zaros, *I've just been witty AND made this post longer!* without realising he'd actually typed it down.

Wow, this is getting very boring, which is weird considering that I still have more story parts to write. What will happen in the end? Only I know...so don't go making up endings!

Now there's nothing left to say except CHICKEN CAESAR SALADS!!! HAH HAH, TAKE THAT BITCHES!! (Please note that I am not calling anyone specific a bitch, I'm just pretending to be Arabian.)

-LoRd ZaRoS

Today

My fellow Aluminums:

Today, is a day of change for our people. Today, is the day when a new era begins, and the ashes of the last is put in a pot on the mantel piece, next to the photo of William Shatner. Today, Lord Zaros takes his place among the seats of those who didn't want to sit on the lower level. Because Jeremy Clarkson was also sitting there.

Anyway, I shall now go and do something else. Farewell, my brave chicken caesar salads.

-L.Z.

And So...

...as the potato rasher got home, he took off his briefcase and slowly lowered himself into a bath of baked beans and chicken shit. However, as the shit was rubbing the layers of mud off of his legs, he suddenly released he was dreaming.

What a bad dream, the potato rasher-

Hang on, why is the main character a potato rasher?
We needed SOMETHING. What d'you suggest?!
I don't know, but ANYTHING is better than a potato rasher. God, I'm going to have to
write this story myself...

What a bad dream, the Arse-Scratcher thought. Rather like the one where Terry Pratchet got off with Gok Wan. That was a nightmare.

Then the Arse-Scratcher woke up (because he had one of those weird dreams that makes you feel like shoving your head up your nostril cavity) again, and realised that he WAS in a bath of baked beans and chicken shit, and Terry Pratchet and Gok Wan WERE getting off on the shower head.

Fuck my life, said the Arse-Scratcher. I'm going off to France to commit suicide. I don't have a will to live there.

And so the Arse-Scratcher went to France and jumped off the Eiffel Tower. Unfortunately, he survived and became a cucumber rack at the local toilets.