Editing Round 32 Three Word Story

Round 32 was host to the most epic forum story so far in OD. Here it is in its entirety, mostly accurate but slightly edited for clarity.

This story is a little like Rule 34 of the internet. Enjoy.

Three word story

== Part One ==

'''"Conte de trois mots"'''

Our story begins, as most stories do, with a simple French speaking poet known as the 'loup de guerre' in wealthy circles. In other circles, he was known as the great canard boiteux. Often, whilst canning vegetables in the moonlight with Old Greg he would recite Molière's Don Juan wearing nothing but gloves and mask to do the task. "Three words, fool!" Compter est difficile those three that's how we play.

The poet ran through the graveyard wearing a silly rainbow wig and singing loudly: Que Sera Sera what will I do without my brave Spartan soldiers. Suddenly, a wild Kevin Spacey appeared and rudely requested a spank on the troll's ass while smashing the large purple jelly through a jagged outline of the Pope, carved into the shape of another Pope. However the condom broke a white substance shot out from the side of the tear, hitting his buddy who died instantly from the smell of rotten eggs and green ham, Sam Malone the bartender. Well, that escalated into quite the cocktail. If only gloryhole moments would come more often than black friday.

Speaking of Friday, what are you doing next weekend? By now Kevin had realised that he was actually none other than Burt Wonderstone, the true reincarnation of himself, but smooth and buttery like Paula Dean. Obviously, since the last battle he'd trained his faithful you in the Dark side of the moon, and back to the depths of Uranus. Obviously, this meant that Elon Musk will not succeed in occupying Uranus Fudge Packing Company, also known as Ur-chocolate-anus Land where the sun always up, but is blocked by a huge ass, floating turnips and a hairy banana as long as the eye can see when closed. 

On this 100th rotation around the mountains of Uranus, it's decided that beating your meat during no-nut November is deadly for casual observers of ferret wedding videos. Bringing it back out of Uranus where the sun does shine or doesn't shine it all depends on who's asking and what they want. For example, Ross like to dress up as a turkey with a giant tail with a pair of laser activated not comfortable pants and then frolic through the tulips and the brambles until he finally shoots a sticky big fat condom over the biggest failure of a mechanized yamagucci sorter.

There's zero percent chance that a story like this is fake news according to Trump and all his chinny chin chins in China. Besides, what would Putin do when Ukraine smelled what he had cooked during his time on the beach. However, a sandy vagina suddenly appears and he took out the big black cock which rise pointing towards the sky with diamonds in its eyes. That brings us to the end of the story.

EPILOGUE

It was done. The end. Or so he slapped Chris Rock until it ended. With a BANG and it ended. Endings, are beginnings!
 
== Part Two ==

'''"A story is a story is a story"'''

One upon a THE END. FIN. Endings, are beginnings that are ending. Every new beginning comes from some other beginnings end. Has to be in the fridge. Which once held her prisoner for days while Kamino cried because his fridge was full of dead neglected yamaguccis. A funeral was not possible, because the fridge broke then Kamino cried a whole river of Kamino's tears which became a boiling river of judgement. "This is madness!" says the angry, clearly drunken hobo? No, hobgoblin can't be drunk on love but drunk on gems given by the all seeing eye but is blinded by the painful solar flare from lack of grammar. Grammar is overrated. Solar flares HATE cold fridges because icekins are overpowered thanks to freons! Fortunately, Ice King James, was a respected professor of theoretical rectal cryogenics utilizing fridges. 

Recently fridge magnets were found to be unplayable, because it's low on DP and lower on and sucked bigtime but almost readable. Readability is relative and depends on eye juice levels of Super Saiyans. Reading is overrated you should instead play dominion and play dominion more. Dominion is oddly enough for a spreadsheet maniacs who like to stick their calculators in every hole they have not yet photographed.

Stupid sexy spreadsheets...

Smart ugly Macros...

"Whatever became of self lubing calculators?" they asked incredulously. Predictably, the Mayor screeched violently as he pulled out a lubricated calculator then shove it into a certan blue robot named MERF the Stupendous who goes berserk like Jeremy Clarkson when Kelly sings. In the 90's Dominion was the most effective contraceptive reducing sperm count in laboratory chimps but counterintuitively increasing testicle count. This change the coitus into a horrifying festival of testicles. Another dilemma caused by extra testicles is kept secret and I'll never pretend otherwise, unless someone offered me MERF's gloryhole moment. Mmmmm. Moist holes. This obsession with donuts, always presages serial killer memoirs by musicians like The Sex Pistols' Bruce Faulconer, who often perforated his testicles with lyrics about testicular cancers and LSD dancers like Tom Green. Bruce would often dance with nobody but your mom in a catsuit covered ion blood. Ion blood? What the bibidodo bobodoodoo screamed the battleship as it transformed into a squid, rather, a kraken who dated a squid back in college. Anyway, after transforming a massive bunghole counter clockwise and whispering "butts" into the Horsehead Nebula 87 ghosts descended with bad news: "We're here for the gangbang and we forgot the safe word, also our backs are covered in gritty infant vomit which we found under Josef Frizl's Pillow." 

Freud once said "Mother knows best how to plunge the clunge into a grungy sponge" and "High in potassium, bananas are living creatures that only move when screaming. Plantains however dance in the nightmares of many dead fast attackers in spiked clogs feasting upon rotting, slightly fermented pineapples. Then there was pineapples on pizza and pepperoni on Cornflakes. This is Italian's Favorite Pizza but which Italian? Not the bishop surely," he concluded. 

Speaking of Hitler, also known as Nanny McPhee, he wrote the song that makes the other songs sound like diarrhoea inducing TikTok dance videos by tweens. Chris Rock got slapped with a trout pulled from Will's cuck survival pack which also includes 50 Million Dollars for lawsuit payouts... and feet pics. The latter especially, a well turned ankle will always induce an absolutely unbelievable perfect 10 score.
 
== Part ThReE ==

'''"Rule of Three (Part Three of the Three Word Story)"'''

You Are Sick shouted the midwife at the father of the mother of Koopa's clown, and then attacked the uncle of Santa's elf, Tito. You forgot to cast Plague on your mother, Trebek and for that you must eat this sandwich, made from the juicy pickled titties of a pregnant sloth which toss salads. Every. Single. Day. Then drink this human bean juice brewed from orphans. Orphans are people too. Don't believe the media, they will sell you mushrooms disguised as genuine hard proof that the earth is flat, or hollow inside. Also that birds are in fact holograms and also flat But not as emotionally damaging as learning that Santa is a fake and wears crocs while smashing your mom's analogy of milf hedonism and constant dirty euphemisms like: Santa can stuff my stocking full with his enormous, throbbing, glistening, wrapping paper tube ho ho ho! 

Christmas is overrated when compared to Weasel Stomping Day. Weasels don’t exist as mere playthings for mere playboys or indeed playtheys except on that magical day called No Ares Friday. And so is I R Baboon day. 

Hark! The, slayer of wicked punctuation has failed to ever indicate which way he prefers to aim when confronted with an astral projection of Ross Wigdor. “Quick, hide the pancake batter.” He said while eating the big soft inside of an assassin of Mustafar dipped in sweet mint choco sauce and lightly seared in butter. After choking his granny sporadically during furious line dancing with the cocaine bear. Dance is, after all, the language of chickens and sunken elven ships. Elves unseemly dancing for skyclad SPUDs and mudclad CHUDs. 

Kobold need buffs and Liz need super duper erosion but undead need to feel loved. What is love? It’s a scam that hurts my under-cackle region so much that surgery is required and also hypnosis “BABADI BABADI SHAPOPO!” ….and she woke. Rising from her baked bean jacuzzi and donning purple trout fishing gear, Theresa recounted her childhood presidency of hiding the trout but, alternatively Halloween. Rambling incoherently, Dog the bounty hunter spat marmalade on a shit talking pigs bum. Meanwhile, Koopa got spanked so hard that his knees became wobbly at the sight of neon goblins dancing in the pale moonlight as they celebrate the coming of Jeremy the Magnificent mighty ruler of self lubricating calculators. 

Meanwhile, in Antarctica it’s really cold. However, global warming just isn’t true up on Mars. Mars was the birthplace of humanity and sexual harassment and double entendres but not tacos filled with cream which Canadiens call cream tacos like alien hot pancake all over your face. Those were troubling times when sharks flew planes and carpet bombing aquariums was their modus operandi. Force witches suck at table tennis except for when they don’t, but nobody knows what is their secret except for one, the ultra secret Mr. Roboto don’t play without his twerk for free! So give that idea to Freddy so that he attacks Wes Craven with a candlestick in the conservatory. It’s coming home through the plains searching for blood and sexy grannies who don’t bake but they do crochet, which means everybody’s gonna die. 

Bad End. 

Fin. 

THE WONDER BATTLE IN ALL CAPS WAS THE GREATEST AND SHOUTIEST BATTLE fight between seventeen ugly dwarfs and ORCS LONG LIVE THE PINK QUEEN OF PURPLE CITY.

== Part Four ==

'''"Fantastic (part) Four!"'''

Nowadays, we remember like the North but the south forgot, which is why the west headed east for the best feast of charred corpses and salty tears. The best recipe for a good pasta is completely unknowable if your cognition is above average. So Einstein invented Italians so that Arabs would never feel alone when eating wet celery and looking in their neighbors’ mailboxes for some delectable Kevin’s chilli recipe leftovers. If they taste anything like rat burgers with Ivetza’s secret sauce then no one would stop eating like a messy cyborg pig with asthma. Coincidentally this was a huge coinciding incident with two things happening simultaneously by coincidence. Meanwhile, Ivetza accidentally won the round.

The orphans donated their Medulla Oblongatas to porn. Fortunately we have OnlyFans to support InternetFett with internet feet for his Internfett who is not like other guys or other gals. Speaking of interns, internal struggle oftentimes accompanies tingling in the Kremlin while Putin defenestrates another tennis ball, since tennis balls represent Alexei Navalny and planet Earth, a miserable pile of hentai addicted teens. Except one man: Huckleberry Sebastian Featherington the count of Takeshi’s castle. He won season three of Rupaul’s new fireball drinking contest. 

We speak of the legendary bard of the mongols who sang in Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely People’s Support Group upon that foggy soggy bog, along that lonesome road down there below, where the wild Bulbasaurs roam. You’ve gotta try the Bulbasaur gumbo BTW it’s spicy but four perfect idiots from outer space ruined the recipe by adding seared tiger penis and fucked their own dreams of becoming Tiger King’s apprentice. Tiger King raged on twitter, posting “Fuck you guys, Carole Baskin is the real Hamburglar and she’s got to relish it!” then he jumped off the bridge into four assholes ready and waiting!

Hey fun fact: four twats in three boats had two chickens and a big fat sense of entitlement named Larry, who runs Medali gym and can’t whistle or ride a camel due to four ingrown nosehairs. Now things are cloudy with a chance of showers with Pert Plus your pubic dander is now radioactive but still deliciously enticing sprinkled on your Mom’s spaghetti. 

“How about those Alex Jones tonics made from tinfoil and gay frogs? They’ll fuck you once a day but often they’ll send feet pics to Cthulhu.” Speaking French is silly. Which is why we never do, cocaine fuelled impressions of Inspector Javert. Instead we impersonate the one called the great Gatsby or not-Bob because he knows he has a penchant for licking freezing metal poles. 

Upon returning from the Arctic circle expect an enlarged spleen to rupture spraying confetti and without a sound vanishing, leaving behind a tiny smouldering can of Irn-Bru which Fanny drank with her fanny. Then she ate lots of haribos despite her diabetes shouting “YOLO!” at her bewildered chihuahua Sebatian Featherbottom, who has three legs and one wheel. 

Featherbottom makes the news one day for inventing a celery ray gun under supervision from an anonymous reviewer from Craigslist. This gun could cause emotional damage from excessive hunger, which is something celery takes pride in.

Something often overlooked is that assholes aren’t always edible even though they floss every day, well, at least when they don’t spend time rummaging through junk drawers festooned with cats. Drawers are only useful in combat when the spoons are overloaded. Gibberish reigns supreme while the Jabberwocky hallucinated of moist girded Christmas puddings and doomsday countdown at NASA while twirling his pubic hairs.

I had a drug fuelled nightmarish wet dream about dominion reaching millions of drug fuelled nightmarish teenagers with nightmarishly drugged fuel. Teenagers scare the bejesus out of old ladies with knitting to do and dominions to swarm. Cookies don’t steal my titles like those wretched mushrooms tend to, but dragons? Now the ending is nigh… or high? Speaking of high school musicals, the Selena Gomez experience really blew my chances of ever wanting to see a sexy naked lizard ever again.

== Part Five ==

'''"FIIIIIIIVE GOOOOOOOLD RIIIIIINGS (but still only three words)"'''

“Merry Christmas!” hollered the filthy animal “I’ll give you” he confusingly continued “To the count…” he paused tantalizingly in the hands of Robert Wadlow “Of five… magic” “mutant marauders might” “make many mistakes”. Indeed they did, the first being that silly thing between the legs of a cockatoo colloquially known as a tiny egg. Meanwhile, over in Florence Pugh’s dungeon, a five pages essay was reduced to ruins and despair by the loss of the virgin Mary’s newborn child named Felipe Grundy. Who was a devout atheist baby those days? 

I just cannot fathom unfathomable things because they are unfathomable! However, one fathomable thing is oceanic penguin migration, which definitely always 100% organic, no added chlorophyll or bore-ophyll! Speaking of chlorophyll, the mind controlling cactus from the deepest Sahara Desert is the quenchiest, queerest, queasiest and queefiest queen of quesadillas. Quentin questioned quite quirkily, quickly quashing Queenie’s quorum quote quarrel, quieting qualified quippers, quadrupling quotas, and qualifying for queer quarterstaff quitters, which was nice. While we were colluding with the queefers, somebody betrayed the quadriplegic quack Dr. Hankenstein, propane gas quality questioner. 

Later enquiries deemed the death was caused by Buckley Benham’s big black big block Buick. That car was always great for Scandi flicks, but the nitro booster often failed, leaving the warmongering wankers stranded at the museum gift shop, clutching their crotches in confusion as they’re counting down until Geico arrives with their check. Toothy’s bewildered anus really chugs hard when presented with exotic craft beer from the distant maximum security prison inhabited by CE and wardened by a small squirrel named Lucy Fur, the devil squirrel. 

Lucy’s favorite game involves whips and marshmallows but not chains of cocoa, or tasers, or a lifetime subscription to Toothy’s Naked butt chugging calculator. I’d buy one if Toothy included a custom jacket and custom pants with faux fur and extensive branding. Branding is overrated for the Fonze but not Nike or Walgreens, because omg yassssss baby! 

Happy new year all you filthy drunk ugly wankers also please stop feeding the troll please and thanks. 

Make love, not clay figurines of some dead squids or assorted porpoises for your own pleasure. It is inevitable that the world is ending for some, yet also for everyone there’s a prize which is death. And from death comes bad smells and occasionally zombification, along with unexpected UFO visits at Bill Clinton’s ranch. 

Zombies are widely known for their skills in the backup dancer department since they never sing lead, but harmonize beautifully. Also they nail choreography like Michael Jackson nailed parenting and like David Beckham nailed your mom. Nailing stuff is a euphemism for Law 3 of the bro code which states: Always shoot first and ask later, don’t say please or promise to call and ABSOLUTELY NEVER STAY THE NIGHT! If you do, prepare to be delighted and thrilled by the unexpected ass beatings delivered by Jessica Rabbit, in the morning. Like, super early before early birds beat their worms when they see your erect worm swinging provocatively and in need of some severe touching. 

You should sing ice ice baby as mezzo-soprano to attract the type of necrophiliac twerking turkeys from outer space that love opera covers and playing chicken with crazy crocodiles on Mars. They soup up cars and soap up cardinals every Sunday before church, but the soap’s actually a topical analgesic made from synthetic altar boy fragrance.

If only there are brave souls who can rescue bum worms from feisty Scottish birds with their teeth harvested from newborn Jay-Z alligator chimeras.

We finally arrive at the conclusion where offensive actions might possibly be not happening. Everyone decided not to because they are suckers for punishment and gluttons for collusion, as it’s considered fashionable and very ladylike to send out underdefended again, and again repeatedly repeating repeats, then it ended.

Th-th-th-th-tha-th-th-tha-that's all folks!

== Credits ==

Thanks to all contributors: (Lifetime ranking names used)

*AgFx
*ajj_howtorot
*Bobbo
*cerbrus87
*Chunk
*Crazy Elf
*DanTheMan
*Dayvinho
*dCLCp
*Disco
*Drads
*ForPony!
*Gipsa
*GoodJob
*Grapes of Math
*InternetFett
*Ivetza
*jmerc13
*Jomutta
*MacTheMeek
*Mannowrath
*MattyVanHalen
*Merf
*Mulla
*Oment
*OMGnoob
*P@qz™
*Palaiyot
*Puntti
*Rompar
*Rush
*Saccora
*Sharkey (duh)
*Sly Delvecchio
*SlyPimp
*Squarewave
*Stevie Wonder
*Toothy
*Unfather
*Uruk Hai
*Volv
*Vran
*Warpig
*Zedijar
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−	[[Round 32]] was host to the most epic forum story so far in OD. Here it is in its entirety, mostly accurate but slightly edited for clarity.	+	Round 32 was host to the most epic forum story so far in OD. Here it is in its entirety, mostly accurate but slightly edited for clarity.

	This story is a little like Rule 34 of the internet. Enjoy.		This story is a little like Rule 34 of the internet. Enjoy.