Syrup, Beer, Bacon, Hockey. Long ago, Jessica took photographs of her beaver in harmony. Then, everything changed when the space horses attacked.
My entry into Zaponator's Noble Jury "Aliens!" Fic Contest thingy.
Chapters (1)
shortskirtsandexplosions
Joined 28th Sep, 2011 ·
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Well that's a thing.
imgur.com/KEKJ10L.png
2 comments and no views, the world has gone mad
So, how many hundreds of chapters before we find out if Jessica was ever rescued?
Are my powers of comprehension depleted, or is there truly nothing to grasp?
<I'm happy now)
Nonetheless, entertainment has been had.
lel the cover art source
Shame on you, Skirts, this is a "T" rated story! You can't have that kind of content in here without the right tags, you silly.
~SolidFire
7533500
Try this! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RjerEk16b7w
And this, ladies and gentlemen, is why you should never snort maple syrup.
I googled Syrup, Beer, Bacon, Hockey. And the first thing that popped up was this.
s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/12/b3/ea/12b3ea7cf88c88b98e53cbb226cf7520.jpg
7533410
The beaver's mate arrived on the scene shortly after he left for Ottawa. She chewed Jessica loose in about an hour. By then all the space critters were gone with their ships, leaving two huge holes behind. Jessica stood and surveyed the huge mess of soot-stained boulders and splintered trees littered all over the landscape. She shook her head in disgust.
"Tourists!" she spat.
She hobbled carefully to the lakeshore and, picking up her paddle, gingerly knelt into her canoe.
"They probably can't spell worth a damn, either," she muttered over her shoulder as she swiftly paddled home.
Im confused but amused
Although it somehow makes sense...
What! ?!?!?
And
Yes!!
Summarise my thoughts on this exactly.
Perry the platypus pls
Pretty funny oddball story. I liked it.
Glorious. I don't generally care for crackfics, but this was simply amazing.
Okay, what?
I find myself saying that more and more often lately with your stories.
Not sure if it's a good thing or not... but it's amusing. So I'd say it is.
This story is more Canadian than a heap of backbacon smothered in maple syrup on a vinyl LP of 2112 held by an RCMP in his dress reds on horseback in the middle of Moose Jaw, Saskatchewan.
Great nonsensical fun.
AHHHHHH SPACE HORSES!
There's much gravity in this absurd nova of a situation. However, the point sailed over my head, peaking into an infinite singularity by the center plane of my mind. Then, my comprehension of the subject at hand thus was rocketed into interstellar space, literally and feaselessly breaking the sheer gravity that was stated prior. It defeated lightspeed and ludicrous cosmic turtles, eventually mingling and finding amusement in a very, very, special, special land of divine thought: Space Ponies. Just Space Ponies. Dot.
Translation: I was so confused and entertained by the sheer concepts presented to me that I decided to try speaking its language, the great language of Short Skirts and Explosions. Shoot, I think I barely resisted to explain.
7533756 Of course you don't snort maple syrup, you mix it with Canadian Rye whiskey and mainline it! If you want to snort your way to that True North nirvana, you grind up the crystals that form after maple syrup has been sitting in the fridge for a few months.
The original space horse.
derpicdn.net/img/2016/3/7/1104035/full.jpg
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Watch this, Lis. You can actually pinpoint the second when Skirts stopped giving a fuck.
Like and fave.