| rdfs:comment
| - First and foremost, there is poop in this article. Lots of it. There is...a very high volume of poop. That's why I put it in the title. If you would be disturbed by images of poop smeared on every single surface of a home, don't read this article. If you're insane like me, then read on. If you recall, at the end of Party Time, Wadsworth was grounded for eternity. Well, he still was when he Wadsworth woke up one morning with a splitting headache. He groaned. He fell out of bed. "Where am I?" he said aloud. "You're in your house. And you are in SUCH trouble," said a voice. "who are you?" he asked.
|
| abstract
| - First and foremost, there is poop in this article. Lots of it. There is...a very high volume of poop. That's why I put it in the title. If you would be disturbed by images of poop smeared on every single surface of a home, don't read this article. If you're insane like me, then read on. If you recall, at the end of Party Time, Wadsworth was grounded for eternity. Well, he still was when he Wadsworth woke up one morning with a splitting headache. He groaned. He fell out of bed. "Where am I?" he said aloud. "You're in your house. And you are in SUCH trouble," said a voice. Wadsworth scratched his scruffy teenaged chin, which had three hairs on it. He had named each of them, and he clung to them now out of sheer nervousness. His eyes were closed tightly. He opened them, and saw a young girl of 9 or 10 standing in front of him, with a third eye sticking out of one of her nostrils. "who are you?" he asked. "I'm your sister!" she said. "Have you forgotten me?" Wadsworth tripped down the stairs, and saw, to his horror, that his sister hadn't exxagerated. Every single surface of the house was covered in feces. Wadsworth took a moment to soak in the situation. There was poop everywhere. The walls. The floor. The ceiling. "I didn't know this was possible!" he said. "Yeah, well that's what the doctors said about my nose," said his sister, as she pointed at her nostril with the eye in it. At this moment, an arm reached out of her nostril and gave a thumbs up. "Sometimes miracles are miraculous, and sometimes they're just kind of weird." "How the hell am I gonna clean up all this poop?" said Wadsworth. "Don't ask me," said his sister as she looked in a mirror. Then she said, "Wadsworth! Look! I can shake hands with myself!" she shook the hand that was sticking out of her nose. "Isn't that neat? How useful is THAT?" "Not very useful in this situation," said Wadsworth. "what WOULD be useful is a garden hose." Wadsworth was struck with the realization. They DID have a garden hose! He ran out into the yard, hooked up the hose, then brought it inside and turned it on full blast. "This'll take care of that poop!!!!!" he bellowed, as he started hosing down the walls. Minutes passed. The water turned brown. Streams of it flowed down the walls. Everything was waterlogged. Wadsworth's sister was in a corner, playing jump rope with a piece of spaghetti. Wadsworth was hosing down the ceiling. Then, he heard a scream. It was his mother. Wadsworth decided that telling the truth was the best course of action. "Yes there is! LOOK!" he pointed at a patch of sticky brown slop on the wall. "Oh god. OH, GOD! NO!!!!" For she was right. Wadsworth rubbed his eyes, and the poop was gone. "Clementine can testify on my behalf!" Clementine had also been a hallucination. Wadsworth was standing alone, without a sister, hosing down a living room that had been poop-free all along. "Uh..." said Wadsworth, "If it makes you feel any better, I didn't...uh...good lord..." I think we'll leave Wadsworth here for the moment.
|
![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)