______________________but TheN

The thing is, my darling ladies and friendly gentlemen, that life is in an eternal and unending loop, like some sort of celestial hymn on a radical wax record that automatically pops back to the beginning when it's done, which is neat and I have one and my uncle got it for me and his name is Jeremy and he writes a webcomic which is how he makes money.

It was all decided that most of the horses were dead. After all, the homewrecking and carbuncular explosions of the several shrimpy beasts indeed decided the final message of the previous chapter. But, in reality, there is no such thing as an end, and, indeed as well also, they de-munched and de-crunched and bopped back inna place like-a papa's big willy Taco B. It's when they inflate into normal pieces again, but this time there are thousands who become one.

Let us take an example. Figure A - a figure eight, screams the audience, and they're wrong - they're wrong - they're wrong. The figure A is a goddamn blue horse with no hand no feet. Just a blue-ass horse who does things in a rapid manner. Whenever the female horse performs an action, the action is performed with the utmost legerity. The horse is so - you're not even gonna believe me, dad - so fast that when it moves the whole world turns around and goes "Jesus Christ on a platinum bicycle, that horse did a really quick movement, there!" Now, upon dissecting such an example using the information given you in the previous section of this narrative, you might come to the conclusion that that bitch got fried. Blown to smotherines using the utter power of loud and bigfast. But you would be untaken wrongly. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

Check this doohickey out. It's called 'telling lies'. The blue horse in reality became a grabzillbon blue horse who were small and they formed together like smegmatron into a Larger Blue Horse, which was sleek and girl. "Don't like it," screamed the horse, but no longer was loud and bigfast. Instead, the burrowing nature of her teeny voice was upsettingly low and itsy-bits, and she shouted slightly longer because of her lack of intuitive sticktuitive bringing the basket around. She couldn't grasp the basket, lacking lasting mastication. What the hell?

Now, blue horse went out of her way and even - I know, it's hard to grasp sometimes with your limited brainpower - out of her house in order to contact a similar being, which was known as Not Even A Horse. According to the True Postulated Canonical Universe, the being was instead a one-corn, thus spoken because it consists on a titsy bit of corn every day. Mashes the corn and sticks the corn right up its angry little mouth-part. Smacks the corn on its tongue and upper-mouth and then shoves that shit down its throat-folds until it is nourished. Terrifying, isn't it? How a security blanket becomes something to fear? What are we, animals?

This one-corn was named The White, and The White was flattened at the bottom of her aggressive wooden boys. How brown were those boys? Let me count the ways; they art more plentiful and made of wood. Rough steps do grink the darling brownin' boys, but there they are, regardless, like a fucks.

Blue'em burst in with the Speed of a Segaman and said "aaaAAaaAaAAaaaa" but The White (The Flat, The Dog) was having none of it. She was already leaking badly. Thus, The White un-did her flat and stood on her pick-boxen, tittling over and saying "hhhHhHHHhhhHHhh." This completed their statement, which thenceforth read:

"hahahaHAhAHaHaHAhahAhAHaHahaha"

This great thing was spoken! This good thing was spoken!

Let's cross on over to aNother mammal which name Yelo. This fucking idiot had the gall to be dead now. And nothing she could do would help her except de-slambering her stone-feet, which she did; now, pay close attention. The Yelo gripped the real and became again, and thus the cycle was continue. Understand? Nothing can break the loop of ever and ever onwards. I am merely an envoy - a harbinger for that which will arrive in the days to come.

Yelo, when became again, came again, brained again, shamed again, and lay back down to eat her toat.

Now, the final - and perhaps most important - interaction in this stage of the cycle is when the Bink and the Urple come together right now over me. Is that sexual? Were the Beebles doin' somethin'' sexua''' with their shid? I dunno. They were so a band. Let's return to Bink and Urble.

Bink knew exactly what the shout did and then de-did it in order to recover her whole selfness. She was de-atomized, made into a whole again, cast from the spiritual realm, and scripted to say "Yowza!" but we fired him but he became a producer so she says "Yowza!" In the meantime, Burble was bubbling, being the only non-dead creature in the text box, and frightened herself into having a smart attack. Those are real.

Bink approached accusatorily, wondering why having a big dead now is rude. It was, but she wondered why it was. Urngle was passed out, dead, on the flead, on the floor. Read, on the relf, on the delf, on the door. Bink looked at the horse and went "Shineee!"

the horse just ufkcing lost its shit dude i' m telling you tiwas liek a magic of the wastrs and the best and they all combined into something unimagienble with theirg lorious face look it was like it never i never seen nothin lik twhen when the y au dude dude i dunno

applejack was there