The Bread Theory: Difference between revisions
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When you think you are spreading some strawberry or blueberry jam on a nice piece of bread, you are spreading it on your table.
Toasters were invented for nothing, and bunbags just blow around on the streets of San Francisco. Bread
I, the nice and enthusiastic guy walked into the bread factory, leading a group for a tour, and then the door to the factory shut and locked. "What's going on?" an old hag asked from the back. I was drastically sweating, if that makes any sense at all. "I'm sure it was just the wind," but it wasn't. Oh how little we did know what was
I lead the group through the machines, which did nothing, just mold and bend air, and the wind brushed up against my back. A single lightbulb flickering from the ceiling went out, and the panic mode switch was flicked on. "Do not worry, my fellow bread eaters," I declared. "We shall get through this together."
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My eyes narrowed.
I pulled a knife on dobby and skinned him right there. The blood going everywhere satisfyed me. I loved the sound of crushing bone and marrow globbing onto the floor dobby. "Dobby, full yet?" I asked as I raised his dead mutilated corpse to my ear. "Huh, Dobby? Are you happy now?"
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"WELL JACK YOU! I'M GETTING OUT OF HERE SO I DON'T CRUMBLE INTO A BUNCH OF SMASHED PIECES OF DEAD BLOOD!"
I knew I was going
I found one.
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Right at the turn of the duct, I found a rusty knife, I picked it up, smiling.
I began to viciosly crave my own flesh and tear out my ears. I ripped off my limbs and smashed them into bits. I tore my eyes out and
I tore at my insides and popped the ribs to get to the heart. I stopped. I wanted to rip it out the
I popped the lungs and air was sucked out of me. Now, trying to catch my breath, I ripped out my hair and began slicing at the scalp to get it off. Hair was now all over me but I didn't care. This didn't make any difference. I just wanted to teach myself a lesson.
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I loved the feeling of pain. I stuck my fingers into the gooey brain and started warping it up. Suddenly, everything in my view began warping and changing colors. Probably because of my hurt brain.
I remembered the intetesains and stomach. I knew what to
I pulled them out and layed them beside me, happy with what I had done. Then, I remembered, why wasn't I dead?
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So I took it out with my blooody mutilated hands and grasped it. "Why am I not dy-"
[[Category:Trollpasta]]▼
▲=The End?=
[[Category:EVIL FOOD]]
[[Category:Im died]]
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[[Category:WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT]]
[[Category:Well, that was pointless.]]
[[Category:Look at me! I'm SO EDGY!]]
{{Comments}}
▲[[Category:Trollpasta]]
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