a galactic game
It was alarming. The terrorist crashed upon the innocent girl and wielded her out of her planet, an orange colossal of ball which she called her home of thought. She was thrown off her imagination momentarily, but swifly flew into another one of derogatory induldgence. Not a fairly nice term, but she seemed happy at the misfit of such a ridiculous phrase stuck at the back of an evocative statement.It was funny that the terrorist didn't perform the invasion earlier. Maybe that's typical of a fast-headed destructionist - preferring to work in a dark side calculating complex formulas to derive an ultimate answer of forty plus two which stupendously translates further into a light sabre which had the following words engraved on its blade: FORGET IT.
The passing of one day, two days, three days.....1096 days... Weapons of mass destruction were constructed behind the misted wall of Skull Island, with the help of a utility vehicle, so named the World Wide Web. A fat kitty was sent as a bait. Remember those war dogs which carried bombs and ran pass the lines of fire? That idea probably drifted through the decades to reach the jaded soul who had only impressions left to count on for the capture of the intended target.
She realised her planet was in danger. Now's probably the time to switch off the defensive mode, and turn on the strategy of hard attack! But the damned kitty was so well-trained to take the heart out of her! Old methods, tried and tested, rich and powerful.
So quick, the death of a freedom fighter (not the terrorist), the illustration of the prowess of a deceptive terrorist. Blood and bones, crushed.
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well.. I am just too free in the office ;-p
posted by slingwoof @ 1/06/2006 10:58:00 PM
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