Ah yes, well done! Aunt Beatrice would be proud sonny.

Ah yes thank you me, I can always count on you except when I'm literally counting you for numeric purposes.

But little did he know THE SKY WAS LITTERED WITH COTTON CANDY AND WRITHING PALE MAGGOTS, BOTH EAGERLY AWAITED A LONG NEEDED TASTE OF DELICIOUS HUMAN FLUID. Now this nearly wouldn't be as upseting had I not decided to become full on bonkers while injected with some volatile fluid which is, evidently, deadly to my immune system.

And wouldn't you know it! He was the squishiest li'l f.ucker alive, I'll tell ya what. So squishy was this tiny human product of fat and joy, that everytime he was squeezed his body eminatted delicious pink fluid that can be used as lubricant or a tasty drink on a hot summers day. Science truly had become far greater than expected.

BUT GRANDPA! WHAT HAPPENS TO THE LITTLE PUPPY? DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE ME HANGING GRANDPA! GRANDPA! GRANDPAAAA!

Ah yes, you're right I sidetracked a bit there. See now, this boy's dog was admist this unclarified intricate plotline I wasn't aware I was constructing and had decided he needed a bone. Now child, where do bones come from? Skeletons! Why of course! Smart lad. Dog has decided to leave his fat squishy owner in favor of finding a tasty treat somewhere off in the mysterious land that has yet to be described.

Dog trots along and eventually he is met with none other than the reader of this ill-tale and barks excitedly. You, the reader, take this as a sign to immedietely come over to Strapstar's house and massage his aching feet as well as feed him several helpings of cheese and crackers whilst singing "Anaconda", the hit new song that pleases this puppet so. The dog does not find his bone.

After the startling revelation that Strapstar possibly suffers from intense lunacy and vile publicity stunts as this for the sake of keeping his dying audience alive, a large fluffy cloud descends from the heavens and begins to strip. It is revealed the cloud is none other than the wonderful wumbo warlord himself, Wario. Snorting his phlegm buildup and dislodging his wedgie, Wario trots over to a lake of b.lood and takes a long large sip. Upon drinking his fill, Wario ascends into the ranks of the undead and is lost into the labirynth of his mind for all eternity.The dog does not find his bone.

As your state senator, eternal savior, religious figure, and guardian angel I simply must do the course of action that will in fact save yourself from subjection to my future forms of idiocy and in turn, will take my life. To the mall. And we'll shop for cute clothes. Then finally the cute boys at school will notice me and I will be one step closer to laying millions of eggs that will reap the souls of millions and rid this Earth from it's filthy filthy vermin.

The dog does not find his bone.

You Never Stop Impressing Me.

I suppose that calls for a little surgical adjustment then, namely in the cranial area.

HES A LIL' CUTIEEE! >:3

OUO So much awesome! Way to go, Strapstar!

...well, then.

neato XD

how old are you? -_-

Sometimes I wonder what goes on in your head son

I love the art you make! (so much better than me) I wonder how you are able to think of stuff like this.

Omg awesome!