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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Upon a dark and stormy night... as jagged bolts of lightning tore thru the the midnight clear and figuratively ripped the sky to shreds (analogous to jumping Jack flash), and ear splitting thunder crackled testing the threshold of tolerance zombies of Sugar Hill came alive and danced to the sound of music, exhibiting spot on choreography to the late Michael Jackson's thriller album, whereat despite feigned affableness of ineradicable purple creepy people eaters , the ghoulish fiendish beasts wantonly ravaged entire hectares (once flush with royally bountiful crops) leaving farmer in the dell thus rendering impossible mission to sing Hi-ho, the derry-o, cuz his countenance plastered with a poker face and future offspring born this way after mutations arose linkedin to hardscrabble existence forcing inhabitants to eat grass most likely tainted with pesticides after incorporeal supernatural beings, who roamed across the terra firma sucked the pith and marrow from Mother Earth until dry then for good measure for measure laid waste great swathes of land from sea to shining sea by expelling nasty biologically hazardous waste products (use your imagination) subsequently bringing about demise of all creatures great and small far as the eye could see videre licet think Sherman's march to the sea triggering smoldering ruination in their wake guaranteeing future harvest for years to come of nothing but scorching ash compromising the blood, sweat and tears and countless hours of backbreaking toil spent sowing seeds across fruitful plains after lush crop of vegetables (just at the cusp of perfect ripeness) waited to be reaped or wolfed down by hungry human all for naught, when homesteaders helplessly watched in horror ravenous, pestiferous, nefarious loathsome jawboning haunting spectres on par with jezebel spirit burning down the houses that calloused hands built transforming breadbasket of America into burnt offerings of hollowed out encrustation tell tale hulking framed charred skeletons resembling outsize three dimensional anime teetering upon foundations, (where Atlas shrugged and saw himself reflected from birdbath pool resultant as the above supported fountainhead gushed a stream of water) sabotaging family owned farms harkening back generations, when United States settled by various and sundry colonists, heeding manifest destiny displacing and eradicating indigenous peoples subsequently former subjects of the crown or established vested gentry within thirteen original colonies by dint of force expelled so called "noble savage" courtesy chicanery, flattery, and incendiary larceny, which usurpation of bumper crops courtesy dead souls trounced, thus immediately creating food insecurity for millions of people, not only in the United States but across the webbed wide world goading people to be creative and scavenge, whereby yours truly limited his intake of nutrients to a diet of worms... and gluten and dairy free hors d'oeuvres topped with icing laced with various and sundry sized sim cards, plus microprocessors insync with silicon wafer chips just for the sake of being a curious (Georgian) human replicated entity within the laboratory. A short time thereafter, body electric of mine slowly, inexorably metamorphosed into a cross between an artificially intelligent moon unit and a beatific, biodynamic, and bombastic hybrid entity able, eager, ready and willing to stand up against marauders and riders in the storm who commingled without pride nor prejudice guided by sense and sensibility.
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