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The Hairy Monster wants some freaking Swedish Fish.

One day, there was a large monster in the bedroom. It sneaked out of the bedroom to find a small child eating Swedish fish in the living room. The boy was watched closely by his parents, who were watching television out of the corner of their eyes.

The monster wanted a Swedish fish, too.

Suddenly, a large rabid squirrel shot through the window, killed the boy, and stole his fish.

The monster wanted a Swedish fish, too.

So the monster crept forward, oh so slightly, and reached out his hairy, disgusting paw…

If he had his eyes open, he would see the squirrel had randomly dropped dead due to a release of excess carbon monoxide in the house. He also would have seen the boy had risen as a zombie to regain the Swedish fish that he had lost at his untimely death.

The parents were still watching television.

The monster opened his eyes in shock as the little boy bit him, mistaking him for a large, furry piece of red candy.

The boy was wrong.

The monster roared, and threw up a large amount of Swedish fish he had stolen from the girl next door.

The boy clapped his hands in excitement as the monster screamed in defeat and crawled away.

Now the monster was really desperate. He had lost the battle to a rabid squirrel and a zombie boy whose parents were watching television.

The monster was angry.

The monster ripped a fire hydrant out of the ground, and…

No Swedish fish.

A hiss escaped the monster as he whirled around to rip out a lamp. There was an explosion as it was ripped from the ground. Dust hit the monster in the face.

No Swedish fish. The monster was angry.

He cornered a small child running home from school, who was shouting something about how he did well on his test.

“Do you have any Swedish fish?” the monster growled menacingly.

The kid screamed and ran off in the opposite direction of where he had headed before.

“Swedish fish,” the monster bellowed, slapping his overly hairy and gross chest. “Swedish fish,” he repeated.

Suddenly, a strange creepy man stepped from the shadows. There had not been shadows before, which added to the overall creepiness.

“You want Swedish fish?” the man asked, removing his bowler hat, which had also not been there before. “I can get you some. All I expect is something in return.”

The monster was stupid, so he agreed. “Yes,” he growled. “I agree.”

“What’s your name?” the man asked, taking a step closer.

The monster replied with a grunt: “The Hairy Monster.”

“That’s not a very nice name!” the man chortled. “Let’s call you Joe. Billy Bob Joe.”

“Huh?” the monster grunted.

“Joe is your last name,” the man explained. “Billy is your first name and Bob is just a stupid name.”

The monster didn’t care, but he nodded. “So… I want some Swedish fish.”

The man suddenly turned into a dog. “Die!” he screamed, because somehow it could still speak (don’t ask me how, LORDIE!).

“Doggy!” the monster- who we must now call Billy Joe (because Bob is a stupid name and it is not formal to call people by their middle names)- roared happily (how does something “roar happily?”), pounding his still overly hairy chest.

A note from the author: You see, the monster is a very young monster, and when monsters get old, they begin to bald all over their bodies, just as human males do on the top of their heads. The only problem is that monsters are gross underneath their hair (their skin is slimy). This is the same in females but much less apparent. That is because females are dominant over males in everything except muscle development, which is why males are “dominant” over females.

Obviously, the Billy Joe liked dogs, but the dog didn’t like the Billy Joe, so the dog ran away yelping.

Billy Joe was now able to focus on his much larger problem- he had no Swedish fish. And his tummy was growling. It was, in fact, growling so loudly that an earthquake had begun over in Iceland, but that might have been because of the volcano about to erupt in exactly 10 minutes (Icelanders, beware!).

Billy Joe then heard a horrifying sound coming from a car passing by. It had the sounds of banjos and men with deep voices and it sang of beer and women and barns and tractors and children. The sound was in fact so horrible that the monster nearly melted.

A note from the author: You see, the monster's DNA is made of ice but the monster is made of flesh, just like any other organism.

Billy Joe then picked up the car and threw it far away from him so he would not have to hear the horrible sound ever again.

Of course, Karma hated him, so another car came by playing the same exact sound. And another and another. And another. And another. So many came by that Billy Joe did actually begin to melt.

Billy Joe then realized the source of the problem, which he had been educated about in school many years ago. Country music was at the heart of this problem, and on top of it, he had no Swedish fish!

Billy Joe then plugged his ears, as he was educated to do by the schoolteacher (who had no Swedish fish, so he had to kill her). He then kicked all the cars that came by playing the sound. He did this for hours and hours and hours.

“Swedish fish!” he screamed to the sky.

He then died from an overdose of country music, and nobody ever saw him again because he was absorbed into the cement.


I was really bored in Computer Apps today. xD

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