Finish the Story

in his dreams

 

But they weren't actually his dreams...


P.S. guys this is a never ending story so the words Th* *nd are banned so just don't say that it's not kool.

 

They were his nightmares.

 

But the nightmares tried to eat away at...

 

The mayonaise

 

then it walked up to me and hit me like a brick that was licked by a inhumanly creature noooo it was...

 

mayonaise with rabies

 

Why would he do that make it stop please ...

 

do 10 pushups

 

Come on mayonaise! You can do pushups! Drop down and give me ten! no. not ten dollars.

 

or.. was it 10$???

 

or was it $20? There was a HUGE explosion so I guess we'll never know how much money was involved. I wonder...

 

or does he even wonder is all of our lives lies?

 

Do we live in lies or do lies live in us?

 

To live, or not to live?

 

To be, or not to be, that is the question—
Whether 'tis Nobler in the mind to suffer
The Slings and Arrows of outrageous Fortune,
Or to take Arms against a Sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die, to sleep—
No more; and by a sleep, to say we end
The Heart-ache, and the thousand Natural shocks
That Flesh is heir to? 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep,
To sleep, perchance to Dream; Aye, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes Calamity of so long life:
For who would bear the Whips and Scorns of time,
The Oppressor's wrong, the proud man's Contumely,
The pangs of despised Love, the Law’s delay,
The insolence of Office, and the Spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his Quietus make
With a bare Bodkin? Who would these Fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered Country, from whose bourn
No Traveler returns, Puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of.
Thus Conscience does make Cowards of us all,
And thus the Native hue of Resolution
Is sicklied o'er, with the pale cast of Thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment,
With this regard their Currents turn awry,
And lose the name of Action. Soft you now,
The fair Ophelia. Nymph, in all thy Orisons
Be thou all my sins remembered.

 

just maybe copy & paste then it hit me I knew all along it was....

 

The mayonnaise of power!

 

But was the mayo really that powerful?

 

YES it was, it ruled upon the land of _______