Summary of chapter 5:
On the side of bread that's not buttered is the buttered side.
My brain hurts now, a pulsing reminder of how life feels when you realize that butter is sometimes tangentially transient.
But butter can also create a feeling of deep obsession, on account of the polish milkladies who smear it on liberally when hunky firefighters take a break from fighting fire and sipping non-alcoholic cocktails.
This is a testament to their quite incredible butter skills and their copious amounts of churned cream.
If you think that's crazy, just wait till you hear about what they like to do to with goat milk!
They never seen the face sophisticated pasteurization protocols until the goat butter machine went offline due to unprecedented server load.
The only silver lining was the small quantity of butter that was found when the mythical dairy vault was opened with the skeleton key revealed the day before.
"I hereby declare you goat and therefore you must now leave", the overseer said.
"What's going on?!" cried the master pasteurizer, revealing presently his intent to cause untold mayhem, by releasing a fourth side to the three-sided Triangle of Unintentional Doom.
The triangle of WHAT?
The Triangle of DOOM.
And thus the universe was never the same.
At the end of the day, all goats went to bed early, only to find that their testicles had developed the ability to commit inexcusable sin.
When seals would rub their flippers together vigorously, the heat becomes unbearable in seconds.
If anyone is getting mixed signals from this continuous stream of disconnected sentence fragments, we apologise.
We apologize so much, that an apology alone seems worthless in comparison to the hopeless desperation of basement dwelling nerds.
Chapter 6:
A loud noise was
On the side of bread that's not buttered is the buttered side.
My brain hurts now, a pulsing reminder of how life feels when you realize that butter is sometimes tangentially transient.
But butter can also create a feeling of deep obsession, on account of the polish milkladies who smear it on liberally when hunky firefighters take a break from fighting fire and sipping non-alcoholic cocktails.
This is a testament to their quite incredible butter skills and their copious amounts of churned cream.
If you think that's crazy, just wait till you hear about what they like to do to with goat milk!
They never seen the face sophisticated pasteurization protocols until the goat butter machine went offline due to unprecedented server load.
The only silver lining was the small quantity of butter that was found when the mythical dairy vault was opened with the skeleton key revealed the day before.
"I hereby declare you goat and therefore you must now leave", the overseer said.
"What's going on?!" cried the master pasteurizer, revealing presently his intent to cause untold mayhem, by releasing a fourth side to the three-sided Triangle of Unintentional Doom.
The triangle of WHAT?
The Triangle of DOOM.
And thus the universe was never the same.
At the end of the day, all goats went to bed early, only to find that their testicles had developed the ability to commit inexcusable sin.
When seals would rub their flippers together vigorously, the heat becomes unbearable in seconds.
If anyone is getting mixed signals from this continuous stream of disconnected sentence fragments, we apologise.
We apologize so much, that an apology alone seems worthless in comparison to the hopeless desperation of basement dwelling nerds.
Chapter 6:
A loud noise was