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<p style="text-align: left;">President number four, whose name was not a name, but a multitude of hot dogs in the shape of swastikas, decided that he would create the Gilded Age. This was a time in which every edge was embossed with a golden trim, like a wedding cake invented by Thomas Edison. All the women wore bonnets made of butter, and were picked up by their feet and spread on toast in the summer. It was all for naught, because this was not the toast of the righteous. It was a feeble toast, one which withered with the coming of the sun. Not even the crows would touch it, preferring the taste of mouldering poop water. But the crows were put in dresses and sold to the highest bidder, where they underwent liposuction.</p>
<p style="text-align: left;">President five disliked the conservative leanings of his brothers, so he became an infinite two-dimensional grid of pink and green squares. Each square had a vagina upon it. These vaginas each emitted a spear of light, upon which was skewered an endless succession of planets. Each carried a culture dedicated to a single sex act. The further down the skewer the planet was, the more orifices possessed by its denizens, and the more gymnastic their sexual culture. The worlds...</p>
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Harry Potter lay, dreaming. In his mind there is a hat, suspended. It comes unhinged, travelling beyond the dream. The hat finds a sunlit hill, studded with flowers and children gorging themselves on chocolate. Chewing faces are smeared with brown residue. Perched atop the hill on its brim, the hat is still. It rolls down the hill, skating between the chocolate-stuffed children. It comes to one child, and stops. Without chocolate, the child stares blankly at its neighbors, filled with emptiness. The hat points its empty bottom at the child and sprays a glittering beam of rainbows. They encircle the child's hands, transforming them into chocolate. Tears of joy streak down the child's smile as it begins eating its hands. The hat flies into the sky. The child waves a brown stump.
The hat ascends to a palace of clouds. Within, God, bearded and weeping, sits beside a mountain of tiny angels. One by one, he picks them up and tears off their wings. He then places them into separate baskets. The hat approaches god, and the rainbow is deployed. It encircles God's crotch. A giant chocolate phallus emerges from God's robes. Dropping his broken angel, he breaks off a piece of his candy member and smears it on his lips. With a chocolate-studded smile, he slowly raises his fist and gives the hat a thumbs-up.
The hat travels into space. It finds itself before the sun. It is a tiny dot before the immensity of the cosmic fire. The hat trembles. A tremendous rainbow issues forth, embracing the sun like a wedding vow. The fire cools and deadens. A chocolate tidal wave roars from its poles and meets at the center. On earth, the skies blacken. The flowers turn to dust. Humanity expires silently, like an infant in its crib. The hat drifts through space, dreamless.
[[Category:Pages with grammar that doesn't suck]]
[[Category:Bad Fanfiction]]
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