SpaceDane had seen a lot of shit in his life, but this took the SpaceCake.
"Hey! That's my SpaceCake, bitch! That was from DQ! It was frozen, and in ICE CREAM form!" said SpaceDane. "It was bestowed upon me for MY special day. DON'T YOU DARE try to take my frozen SpaceCake. You can take many things from a SpaceDane. You can take his SpaceDust. You can take his SpaceRust. But to take a SpaceDane's SpaceCake is a ne'er you must!"
He knew that he had stolen from Dr. Seuss, but SpaceDane could not help himself. As a drop of SpaceSweat dripped from his brow, SpaceDane glared unblinking into the horizon. "A lesser man would have blinked," thought SpaceDane. SpaceDane refused to bow before the whims of his forehead's condensation. His will would not be broken.
Hopping in the SpaceCockpit of his SpaceFordTaurus, SpaceDane had only one choice. He must pursue his SpaceCake TO THE ENDS OF THE SPACEUNIVERSE.
Sweat, like rivers of, well, sweat, fell into SpaceDane's eyes as he put the SpaceTransmission into overdrive. SpaceDane squinted, fighting once again his urge to blink. Was his vision affected? Of FUCKING COURSE NOT. SpaceDane was steadfast in both his navigational SpaceFordTaurusing, and in the recovery of his SpaceCake.
[At this point, the reader should picture a wacky Space80's montage of SpaceDane chasing after his SpaceCake. All in a Christopher Walken-esque voice. There is a three-titted woman involved, and although she is not the SpaceCake-stealing bitch in question, and totally wants to BONE SpaceDane, he won't have it. ("One... Two...........Three tits? NICE TRY, BUDDY. I'M BACK, BITCH.") At this point, SpaceDane roared his SpaceFordTaurus the fuck outta there, flipping a peace sign in her general direction. It should be noted that the three-tittied woman was probably better off this way, given SpaceDane's wildly overstated love of both poker and unsuccessful basketball teams... not to mention, all of this shit totally happened in Total Recall, so there's that, look neither here nor there... We rejoin the plot as it progresses, sparing the reader from SpaceDane's continual poker trivia reminiscences. They were numerous and pretty bad. ]
As a river of vanilla ice cream cascaded down his face, SpaceDane looked directly at the camera.
"All I wanted was my SpaceCake. Today was my Special Day."
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although I would have easily agreed with you on the ending.... you made it homo real quick like...I feel a little cheated... although I will follow the tales of Dane, the space explorer, the bball coach, the dude that loves health/teeht, shit, I said teeth! Fuck it I'm out
ReplyDeleteIf Dane was a flavor of Snapple which one would he be?
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