There is a fucking centipede in my fucking shower: Difference between revisions

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imported>PathosSkep
(Created page with "This story is completely true, fuck you if you don't believe. May the Flying Spaghetti Monster throw pasta in your face. Once upon a time, I was taking a shower, singing Link...")
 
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When I woke up from my death because plot, I thought to myself, “What"What was I doing? Oh, right." So I ran into my sunroom, grabbed my rocket launcher, and stormed into the bathroom. The centipede was nowhere to be seen. I paced anxiously. And then the motherfucking centipede jumped on my motherfucking face. I screamed, flailed, and shot my rocket launcher by accident. It blew a huge hole in the wall, but I didn't notice because there was a motherfucking centipede on my motherfucking face. I fell through the hole in my wall into my backyard swimming pool. Once I surfaced, I began to calm. I fell in the pool, so the centipede must have drowned, right?
 
 
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“Help"Help! Help!" I pleaded.
 
“We"We have a doorbell, asshole!" was the response.
 
 
But I didn't care because there was a motherfucking centipede in my motherfucking house. I busted the door down, and inside there was a lady, in her 30's, eating spaghetti. She made a face of anger and disgust and threw a handful of spaghetti at my face. But I didn't care because there was a motherfucking centipede in my motherfucking house and I needed to use her phone.
 
“I"I need to call 911!" I yelled.
 
 
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“911"911, what's your emergency?"
 
 
“There"There is a motherfucking centipede
in my motherfucking shower!"
 
 
“Oh"Oh shit, we'll call the S.W.A.T. Team at once!"
 
 
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“What"What happened?" I queried.
 
 
“There"There are TWO motherfucking centipedes in that motherfucking shower!" was the team captain's exasperated response.
 
 
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“Hello"Hello, Mr. Trump."
 
 
“Hey"Hey. Who is this?"
 
 
“My"My name is not important. What is important is that there is a motherfucking centipede in my motherfucking house. Please send nukes."
 
 
“Ok"Ok, under one condition. To pay for nuclear warhead bills (that's a thing I guess), give me a small loan of a million dollars."
 
 
“I"I'll see." I said.
 
 
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“Trump"Trump, I'm mistaken. They are not centipedes."
 
“If"If they're not centipedes, then what are they?" Trumped growled impatiently.
 
My reply was simple. “Immigrants"Immigrants."
 
“WHAT"WHAT?!? WHAT?!? WHAT?!?"
 
Oh. Right. In the fucking shower. I
stormed in the bathroom and grabbed the safe. The motherfucking
centipedes began to chase me, so once I had got outside, I threw the
safe at them. It missed, the safe blew up, and my money blew in the
wind. The asshole neighbors stormed outside and almost fucking
trampled me as they ran after the money.
 
 
Well, shit. There goes my money. I needed to come up with something to get Trump to kill the centipedes. Then the idea hit me. I picked up the phone, and called Trump.“Trump, I'm mistaken. They are not
centipedes.”“If they're not centipedes, then what
are they?” Trumped growled impatiently.My reply was simple. “Immigrants.”“WHAT?!? WHAT?!? WHAT?!?”
 
 
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'''''The End???'''''
[[Category:Im died]]
[[Category:Pages with grammar that doesn't suck]]
[[Category:Stuff Blowing Up]]
[[Category:TRUE STORY]]
[[Category:DIALOGUE!]]
[[Category:WHAT A TWIST!]]
[[Category:Stupid is as the main character does]]
[[Category:Trollpasta]]
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