Welcome Children. Im Bob, and Im here to tell you a story.
It was a dark stormy night, and the rain came down in sheets. The giraffes were drowning in the street, but Greg struggled to Pauls computer and made a website telling the story of what happened to the Roundie, and all the dark, mysterious things that happened there. And the explosions. And fire.
However, Before Greg could finish the website of dreams that he had imagined that night, he was attacked by an insane giraffe enthusiast that was plagued by evil firebreathing munchkins, had disbandenment issues, robbed Cigar factories (incidentally, Greg is a fine purveyor of cigars, and recently recieved one from the indian factories of Queen Victoria, in her wild years) and wanted Greg's hair for himself. So Greg was done away with and buried with his nightwish CD's, and Mhairi was so grief-stricken that she replaced him with an identical clone who completed this site. The only difference between him and the clone was his innability to say "biscuits" ten times in rapid succesion while listening to Bob yodelling and eating marbles.
Howevermore, my sweet children of listening land, do you know how i know this?
I was the insane Giraffe enthusiast.
Mwuhahahaha,hahaha.hahahahahahahahahaha.ha
hahahahahahahah, aaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhh ha ha ha ha ha haaaaaaaaaaaaaa. Help
