The guys were totally left alone to eat donuts and drink 7-up and peach juice. And draw comics. And generally run amok. An entire box (large) of timbits was consumed. Inhaled perhaps. And then cartooned, which will later be photographed.
Orlando Bloom came. No really. Except he had way too long of hair. Maybe it wasn’t Orlando Bloom after all.
“Hey, it’s chocolate time.”
“I really wanted to try that donut.”
“No, it looks disgusting. I think I would feel ill for the rest of the day.”
“Is that like bread or?”
“What? What are you looking at?”
“It makes sense.”
Except it doesn’t.
They should invent like half a penny so when you go to pay for gas you can pay like 195.5 cents per litre because otherwise they round up. It’s like $1.96 per litre. Oh, wait. It’s $1.95 ½ per litre but they charge you $1.96.
What’s up with that?
The boys resume insulting J. Beebs. Their snacks and money have run out…
“I think I’m at a loss for words right now. The paperclip is looking at me with his big eyes,” says not-intended-to-be-eaten.
“Oh my gosh, the paperclip is alive. What does it do?” says Bartholomew.
“It’s creepy.”
“See, I told you! It is alive! And look-it, its eyebrows go up, then to the right, then to the left.”
“There I made you a little concoction,” smiled P.O.M. (which had nothing to do with the paperclip but was certainly a little alarming)
“Okay, um, what was I talking about? Right. I’m not saying anything anymore until you stop typing.”
You got to write it down though. (that was really bad writing) Okay, fine. I’m (I can’t say my name but you know who I am) and I’m married to Taylor Lautner. I refuse to acknowledge that I said this. “You kind of did,” says P.O.M. I continue to refuse to acknowledge this.
“Why’d you have to bring that up again, POM?”
“We should just change the subject,” says Marshmelon. “Like to Harry Potter.”
Except now everyone is talking about caps and dancing and people standing around for like two hours.
“Hey there,” says P.O.M. “What? Are you mad at me?”
Oh my god, I know, right? (that sounded better in person, you have to imagine the voice)
“Then someone came by and took it and then…” well, it got to be too much to type. Sorry.
While we were typing, Kaiba apparently robbed Marshmelon of all his money and now he’s poor and…not-intended-to-be-eaten got carried away with the story. It involves some kind of random shooting and a woman named Mildred and a cat and not Bob. Or Joseph or something. It was definitely something. And a creepy vampire and a random tiger. Because nothing is complete without a random tiger.
And now, our word of the day. Which is “derstiv.” Look it up, people!
Signed: when books go bad
P.S. This post is dedicated to Mr. Henry Schmuawfulofagus, who has learned the art of being in more than one place at a time and who possibly attended this meeting, we’re not 100% sure.