WE NOW CONTINUE THE CRA-YON LAY-ONDS 2
"You will learn to do this by the end of this annoying 30-minute speh-shul!!!!" screamed the TV-in-a-dragons-stomach, which is actually personifidifacation/personification, or maybe it isn't. Anyway, it was really an annoying person named Robert Bee, who was being broadcast to the annoying TV-in-a-dragons-stomach, and someone was sitting in front of it.
Bob tumbled down the Roaring Dragon's (scientific name Draco Clamarius) throat, and hit the stomach with a displeasing "SPLAPPADOODLEDOO". Only without the "ADOODLEDOO".
Bob SPLAPPed down onto the greasy lining of the Roaring Dragon's (scientific name Draco Clamarius) stomach. The person sitting in front of the TV didn't move.
Robert Bee screamed "First, we Jumpsies up and down!" The person got up and Jumpsied up and down, which is a sort of a dance that fo' real only MAINLY involvies jumpingupanddownasfastasyoucan. However, you do scream at the top of your lungs every once in a while.
Bob got up a bit shakily, and asked the person "What exactly is he teaching you to do?" Bob didn't know WHY that was his first question, as he had many other, better questions. But then again, he was in a frickin' ROARING DRAGON'S (scientific name Draco Clamarius) stomach, so, y'know, he wasn't in a position to be using the 3rd version of logic. The 3rd version is the kind that you are probably using in your precise universe that is not the crayon layonds universee at ALL. The 3rd version is the 1 that you use and the 1 that was decided upon by Napoleon Blownapart/Bonaparte/on Elba. Betcha didn't know that, dearie. I'll just refer to it as logic for now. Or maybe I'll call it the 3rd version of logic. MWAHAHAHA.
Now back to the story.
"What exactly is he teaching you to do?" "He's teaching me to TELELPORT, you sunuva(this story is PEEGEE, yo!)!!!"
Bob then watched Robert Bee and the guy in the stomach with Bob TELELPORT.
“Th-that’s EFFIN AMAZING, wow! How long you be doing that?”
“Just fiftee’ minutes, man, it a thirty minute speh-shul!!!!” screeched the guy, who had teleported over from the TV to right next to Bob.
“Fifty minutes!?” screeched Bob back, terrified of this new development in the proceedings.
“No, moronical moron! Fiftee’!”
“Ohhhh!!!!!!!! Fifteen!”
“That’s what I totally said! Fifteen!” said the guy, who had gotten rid of his cheesy accent.
“Riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-” said Bob, gasped for air, and continued-- “iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-Gasp!-iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight. Whatever you say, bub.”
Robert Bee suddenly screamed “HEY! Watch my speh-shul program or I’ll cry!”
...
“WaaaaaaaAAAAaaaAAAaaaAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!”
They turned around to watch it.
Maps are wondrous things.
You will die in seven days if you read this to the end.
“Anyway, d00dz! Time for commercial break!” said Robert Bee, and his annoying face was replaced by an annoying ad.
Bob turned to the guy, and asked him what the guy’s name was. “What’s the guy’s name?” Oops. “What’s your name?” There we go. “My name’s Matt. I’m going to climb the Cliffs of Eternal Despair to get to... the Cra-yon Lay-onds.
Bob gasped. The Cra-yon Lay-onds were an amazing place. They were rumored to be the last place ever not dominated by Crayolla, who I’m to lazy too tell you about. To lazy too switch around my “to”s and “too”s intoo the correct spots, in fact.
“The Cra-yon Lay-onds? But they be only teh myth!”
INSERT CLICHE THING WHERE MATT IS CERTAIN THEY EXIST AND HE’LL GET THERE, AND BOB DOESN’T THINK SO. LIKE IN ANTZ WITH BUGTOPIA OR WHATEVER.
Bob suddenly realized he had to get out of there. “Show me how to teleport out of here!”, he said, but then the special came back on. GAH, stupid spelling mistakes! I meant speh-shul! And TELELPORT!
“Just watch this, dummy.” said Matt.
So Bob watched it, and then he simply TELELPORTed to the top of the Completely Vertical Cliff o' the Cra-yons. There was a bus stop there, and the bus would take him to a restaurant, where they were serving a special: Goal-den Cra-yon.
Maybe he’d pursue the true Goal-den Cra-yon next week, or next month, but for now he’d just eat at the Goal-den Cra-yon Eatery. Life was good.
THE END
...
...
What, it was a really good restaurant! Alright, alright, fine, I’ll write more, but for now, Bob is content to simply catch the bus.
THE END FOR NOW
EPILOGUE:
It was yummy. Bob was full.
THE END FOR REAL (FOR NOW)
P.S. No it isn’t!
THE END. NO, REALLY. (FOR NOW)
