A Flavorful Pasta!

As a Brit, I'm used to needing a loicense for just about anything. My Trollpasta Wroiting Loicense expires a week from now, so I have to wroite this quick. I am a ghost, guvna. I died. Here's how it started...

I was boilin' some wa'a for me beef quimbos (pronounced Kim-bo), as the tra'ishnal cookin' method of Bri'ain is boilin'. I was getting me wa'a ready for the beef quimbos when I realized it wasn't Chewsday. I wrote a strongly worded le'a to the guvna to get a new recipe since me boilin' wa'a was going out. Unfortunately, it would require a loicense to get expedient shippin' of me le'a. So, me woife, who looked like a Yank's dinna and her teeth tryin' to escape the greatest country, suggested spaghe'i.

I opened me box of grain lines with me guvna approved box opener, which wasn't a knoife since I didn't have me loicense for one. I tasted the wa'a. Exceptionally plain and borin', it was. The grain lines refused to enta the boilin' pan. So, in orda to get that Yank food in the boilin' pan, I made a frantic call.

"I WAS HIT BY A FUCKIN' LAURY AND IT WAS LESS PAINFUL THAN ENTERING YOUR KITCHEN!" a famous, angry yell broke into me kitchen with.

Masta Chef Gordon Ramsay, a lowly Scot instead of a high class Brrrrrrrit, walked into me kitchen through the phone. He added a bunch of Yank things to the wa'a, like some mystery black salt and salt. He cooked a heinous smellin' fettuccini, (pronounced fet-uk-kee-nee), and added some cheese not labeled as Tesco Single Dairy Product. The bobbies broke in but they were no match, since Gordon was outside they're jurisdiction. I decided to try the wa'a. A horr'ble allergic reaction caused me to bleed hyperrealistic blood from all of my orifices and then I exploded and died.

Oh yeah, YOUR NEXT!

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