Once many years ago, one ending in that most devout of numbers for it means the ending and beginning of all, that paradoxical stump of dimensions being absolutely nothing! 0!, I came across a well-written and generally engaging tale in which the Brothers Mario, in their wrecking crew days, came across a particularly malign brand of alien monsters, very much removed form their typical vitamin foes. In this tale, we learn the impregnation of Luigi's 5 years old daughter at the hands of a 10238 year old man, being the pokerfaced inksmudge of a toad. Mario offers to abort the inchworm fetus with his fleur-de-lys gold coin, but Luigi insists on having the tit delivered. Mario, in his signature motto, leaps ecstatically with upraised fist of defiance and potential triumph, soaring up along with his jaw swingin, vocal chords vibrating with inflections and slithering tongue into position for "1 UP!" Only this time, he summoned the 14449 minions of Ggf-Yn'zyrv. Mass wrecking ensues with intestinal tracts reloaded between bouts. They win.
I have decided it best to reprint this classic tale by the non-pseudonymous Carlotta Oxford Cuielletiers. Unfortunately, the ms. of Ms. Cuielletiers' story is horribly printed due to a caking of mahogany on the top of the page, complete with a mini army of curled black hairs. So now, without the permission of Ms. Cuielletiers, I've renamed her tittle, err tale, "Gas Baby 'Borting Brooklyn Tunis". I hope she agrees and envaginates my cat, stapled as it is to my typewritten gingercracker-crotch!
Yrs. for urethral non-original poison,