The skies blackened. Winds swirled and began tossing begonias from their beds as if a giant turkey baster had been squeezed from above. Pandemonium gripped the populace. This had been prophesied.
*WhhooooomphedSplat!":
Silence. ...
......... silence ...... (wait for it)........ silence ............
At first glance, a structure, a building, had appeared to descend from the sky. Not a building, but an apartment... a one bedroom loft, guilded in pure gold. Above the door of this loft was posted a thumb and forefinger touching tip to tip.
Silence was deafening as the door to the loft opened ... no squeaks, no creaks ...
"Welcome to Westboro.." ... the tiny voices exclaimed. The reverend Phelps has been expecting you. "
Unsure where he was, the shaken figure of a man exited the loft apartment ... looking to his left, he saw legs prodtruding from the foundation of his loft... Panic began to overtake him until ....
".... those are the legs of the wicked Fred of the midwest ... "
"But, I was only a minute ago watching 'Jersey Shore' and plotting my return... your church never had any place in my plans.... How might I get back to heaven and be with those who are worthy of my love?'
"Take the shoes before you and put them upon your feet ... they will keep you safe in your journeys througout the land..."
So, the visitor from the House Above took the Hush Puppies from the feet of the slain one which
the loft apartment had landed upon, laced them upon his feet and mingled with the masses.
.... let's see how this apocalyptic scenario ends....
....
.... as the Hush Puppies were removed from the feet of Fred of the West, the legs rolled uo and disappeared .. withdrawing unto the bowels of the eveil sanctum of the home of fred that was seemingly squashed by the landing of the well-built apartment which fell from the sky ..
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