One day in Teletubby land, Rayle was being rooted by her dog Rocky, while Hyena
watched intently. The magical penis monster was defeated and therefore there was
much quiet in the land. But then a big black russian playing bagpipes walked
through the land.
"I AM A BIG BLACK RUSSIAN PLAYING BAGPIPES!" he said. Rocky quickly pulled out a
BIGREDLASERGUN and zapped him between the eyes. The big black russian then slowly
morphed into Drew Barrymore and she followed Rayle into a tent. There were a few
explosion sounds and some quite viscous green juice leaked out of the tent but ten
minutes later they were nowhere to be seen.
Meanwhile, Bloodshedder was following a bus timetable map back to Teletubby land as
he forgot to get off at the stop after the stop which was about two stops away
from the stop he was supposed to stop at. When he arrived back, Quasar and xooz98
were busy studying a strange object which seemed to be made from various fibers
including plastic, cotton, polyester, leather, linen, and Michael Jackson's old
prosthetic tip, all melted down.
"Bloodshedder, do you know what this infernal object that we cannot take our eyes
off is?" says xooz98, carrying a large manilla folder with the word SCRAGADELIC in
big bold capital letters and a mouldy blueberry muffin.
"It appears to be a Fuck," Bloodshedder exclaims.
"Yes, but what type of Fuck?" Quasar says.
"I do not know, but follow me. I know someone who will know," Bloodshedder replies.
Bloodshedder took Quasar and xooz98 to some high mountain in India, but Quasar was
attacked by a furry shitbeast and a big brown bear. xooz98 was mobbed by a couple
of mystic flying bras but survived with a broken scrotum. He died about six years later.
They finally reached Castle Rofflestein. Inside on the throne forged from 662 carat gold,
Scragadelic was masturbating to modified pictures of Christina Aguilera.
"Hello Scragadelic, we were wondering if you could --"
"WHO DARES DISTURB MY PRECIOUS WANKING TIME!!!" boomed Scragadelic. He stood up proudly,
walked over to xooz98, inching out a terrible fart while waddling along the beautiful
polished wooden floor, and greeted them.
"HELLO! My friends, how wonderful it is to see you! What can I can do for you?" Scragadelic
continues to boom out.
"Well, I have a package for you from some guy called Hugh, and we were wondering if you
could help us figure out what sort of Fuck this is?"
"I'm pretty sure it was just a hand-- oh, I see. Hmm. I have seen a Fuck like this before
but nothing of this quality. I am unable to comprehend what type of Fuck this is. But I
know someone who will know. Follow me!"
Deep in the amazon forest of northern Brazil they come to a hut in which Julian is composing
a new song.
"I've only got ten minutes left on these Babelfish sets so you'll have to hurry up,
you two." Scragadelic gave Bloodshedder and xooz98 two colour-changing boxes with a
microphone and headphones.
"Hello Julian!" said Bloodshedder.
"Eh, hello! What am I able to assist you with this day?" beamed Julian.
"Well, we were wondering if you could help us figure out what type of Fuck this is." Bloodshedder
puffs out, exhausted from walking roughly 74,352 miles from India to Peru or whatever country
they were in. I can't really remember. Could have been brazil.
"Hmm... I have not many of an idea this day, but I may know someone who knows of what typical
this Fuck is. I find both of you have walked quite a long way, but Iiiii-shshshhsshhshshh
shkkkkke- dernier promenade du jour. Suivez moi! Maintenant!"
"There go the babelfish," said Bloodshedder.
Julian took Scragadelic, Bloodshedder and xooz98 to the highlands of Ireland where their
eyes land on a kind lad but quite mentally disturbed lad called Fredrik.
"Hallo! Me nahm is Fredrik! You want some, I come from Sverlige!" he called out. He then
continued playing Hide 'n Seek with Torn and Bloodlust, running aboot the fresh green fields,
enjoying being a careless retarded child.
"Fredrik you silly wetard!" boomed Scragadelic. "Get here at once!"
"Aye, off svite!" he called back and raced to push him over with a giant manhug.
"Freddy me lad, do you be knowent what of this type andeth what of this quality be this Fuck?"
Scragadelic tries to communicate in broken Swirish.
"No father, I do not know. But I will take you to someone who does! Naubel ke mui!"
Fredrik takes Julian, Bloodshedder, Scragadelic, xooz98, Torn and Bloodlust, who is aboot 24
at the time of writing this story, to a house in southern Florida.
"Hi there! Anything I can do for you folks?" says Bill Clinton, smiling his happy smile that
made people vote for him.
"Oui, savez-vous quel --"
"Shut up Julian!" shouted Torn.
"We want to know what type of Fuck this is. Do you know?" said Bloodlust.
"Well, lemme take a look 'ere... er, hmm... come inside, I'll ask Monica. She seems to know all
aboot these things..."
When they came inside, Rayle, Monica, and a cross between Drew Barrymore and John Cleese were
having an argument about the proposed Iraq war.
"Monica, do you know what type of Fuck this is?" said Bill.
"My God! Where did you find this? This is the missing piece of my Crystal Nights dinner set! I
haven't been able to find this for years!" Monica screamed with pleasure. Or enjoyment. Can't
quite tell.
Monica turned into a giant armoured frock and a sword protruded from her forehead.
"Prepare to fight!" she said.
Just then the Baha Men crashed a 1970's hippie-painted caravan through the wall and assembled
bongo drums and banjos on the spot, then proceeded to do a Hawaiian rendition of Who Let The Dogs
Out. Scragadelic, Torn, Bloodlust, Julian, Fredrik, Bloodshedder, Monica, Rayle, Bill Clinton and
the Baha Men all made a congo line and partied all night.
Except for Hyena who was in a big red mess under the caravan. And Quasar who was still fighting off
a mystical flying bra in Afghanistan.