She was like, to Jeromy, an ugly gargoyal-a very ugly gargoyal.
Jeromy took one look at the ugly face and said in a soft, friendly voice, “So are you going to eat those fries? Or not? Cause you know, I really need those to, like, do my homework on the history of cheese and stuff.”
The lady did the only humane thing: She captured the now over delited Jeromy, by stuffing him into a duffle bag, locked him in a closet for eight months, and for that period kept repeating, “There’s no such thing as French fries.”
Eight months later, after the police had been searching for Jeromy, he came out with a dazed look on his face, and oh his face. His face was unshaven, his eyes were blood shot, and he studdered every time someone spoke to him. He was a wreck. The day after he was found, he was put into the magical place with the people in the strait jackets and the
At that point, he heard me come out of the bathroom and ran away.
This is my 11 year old brother. Thank you and good night.