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This story was generated using an online plot generator similar to Madlibs.
The material in this story is rather crazy and could be viewed as inappropriate for younger audiences.
Viewer discretion is advised.
Mysterious Robert Syria
Robert Syria was thinking about Ranae Nigera again.
Ranae was a deceptive bitch nigga with bloated eyes and round breasts.
Robert walked over to the window and reflected on his cold surroundings.
He had always hated hot Whereville with its mutated, muddy mountains. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel gleeful.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the a deceptive figure of Ranae Nigera.
Robert gulped.
He glanced at his own reflection.
He was a mysterious, strange, whiskey drinker with fat eyes and sexy breasts.
His friends saw him as a warm, warty wizard jesus. Once, he had even revived a dying, one legged dog.
But not even a mysterious person who had once revived a dying, one legged dog, was prepared for what Ranae had in store today.
The hail pounded like singing cats, making Robert pissed off.
Robert grabbed a weird brush that had been strewn nearby; he massaged it with his fingers.
As Robert stepped outside and Ranae came closer, he could see the wooden glint in her eye.
"Look Robert," growled Ranae, with a clever glare that reminded Robert of deceptive monkeys. "I hate you and I want revenge. You owe me 1342 food stamps."
Robert looked back, even more pissed off and still fingering the weird brush. "Ranae, you are the world's last hope," he replied.
They looked at each other with happy feelings, like two fragile, fluttering ferrets fighting at a very honest halloween, which had jazz fusion music playing in the background and two brave uncles climbing to the beat.
Suddenly, Ranae lunged forward and tried to punch Robert in the face.
Quickly, Robert grabbed the weird brush and brought it down on Ranae's skull.
Ranae's bloated eyes trembled and her round breasts wobbled.
She looked angry, her wallet raw like a miniature, many microchip.
Then she let out an agonizing groan and collapsed onto the ground.
Moments later Ranae Nigera was dead.
Robert Syria went back inside and made himself a nice glass of whiskey.
Copyright
Mysterious Robert Syria by Nicholas Alexander Benson is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
