Snorts, Laughter and Blank Looks- Weird Made Up Stories Designed To Amuse People

Just some short stories to make people snort :P Enjoy!

Chapter 5


The girl closed her eyes in pleasure. "Oh, Ben!"

Another thrill of pleasure shot through her. "Jerry! Oh, I love you Jerry!

She breathed a sigh of pure lust, and then took another bite of the delicious ice-cream. "I don't know what I would do without you two," she murmered, her spoon scraping the bottom of the bowl now.

Within another minute, the bowl was empty and she hurled it at the wall in a sudden fit of anger. "OBwvkernenbrtneohrndbnwouu!11!"

The author blinks and then narrows her eyes. "Bambi, what did I tell you about STAYING AWAY FROM MY KEYBOARD?!"

"i dun care i lik to talk 2 poeplz."

"Yeah. Some other time, Bambi." The author points at a corner and Bambi reluctantly sits down. She then continues writing.

The woman stepped out of her bathtub, slung a towel around her and watched two tiny little birds outside her windows sing. Her eyes narrowed slowly, until they were slits. She took big paces to the window and then slammed it shut.

The two birds didn't budge, but stared at her instead, their beady eyes full of menace. Then they started kissing each other violently, eroti-


Sparkles shrugs. "I couldn't help it! I mean, once Bambi started..."

The author rubs her forehead. "I should just lock you two up."

"You love me too much."

"she luvs meeps morre u stoopid emu!" Bambi shouts depressively.

"Yeah. All right. Let's just continue," the author mutters, shoving the two story characters aside.

The woman turned her back on the two birds and sat down at her typewriter, tapping it furiously.

"Two...birds...making love in front of....while eating Ben and Jerry's..."

The taps quickened, forming a melody. Somewhere a piano sounded, tunes flowing out of the instrument. It all mixed together in the woman's head.

An owl hooted. The birds sang again. Water dripped out of the tap. Someone mowed their lawn. Shutters banged against each other softly. The wind whispered.

"Mixed melodies in my head...conspiracy...birds...still watching..."


The woman startled and turned around, snatching her glasses in disbelief and cramming them onto her nose. Right in front of her stood Cookie Monster: big, imposing, blue...and he clearly wanted cookies.

"OM NOM NOM NOM!" he roared.

"BREE! WHY MUST YOU INTERFERE?!" the writer yells, turning around furiously to face the girl.

She shrugs."I thought it fitted nicely. It's supposed to be funny, you're making it a little too...boring and musical, if you know what I mean. Try more random stuff!"

"And why should I listen to you?" the writer asks, her arms folded, though a hesitant look has appeared on her face.

"Duh. Because I'm the writer in you."

The woman grabbed a dough roller and hit Cookie Monster. "Not my cookies, you fluffy blue kiddie-scarer!" she snarled, snatching the sack of heavenly treats and then grabbing the brownies from the oven. She dashed outside, ignoring the haunting sound of her typewriter being eaten...only to run into someone.

"Oh, I'm sorry, my bad!" the woman exclaimed. "I was running away from Cookie Monster and- what are you?!"

She'd knocked over a rather small man, who seemed to be wearing a diaper, and even more strangely, he was holding a bow and arrows, which bore hearts on their tips.

"Call me Cupid. I want your cookies," the man said coldly, brushing his rather greasy blonde hair aside and pointing an arrow at her chest.

The End

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