So ur with ur honey and yur making out wen the phone rigns. U anser it n the vioce is "wut r u doing wit my daughter?" U tell ur girl n she say "my dad is ded". THEN WHO WAS PHONE?

The child sat at his desk, listening to the room; his teacher recited the words of an author long dead, her rhythmic voice bringing life to the story; a hum emitted from a girl who would rather be talking to her best friend accompanied the words; pages scratching against one another as a boy read well ahead of the teacher; a different boy, bored with his day, tapped his foot to an invisible tempo; the sounds blended together beautifully as the occasional breeze reminded the child that Autumn was fast approaching. Slowly the child closed his eyes and let his hand idly scrawl on the paper before him; the music of the room filled him with the calm men spend lives looking for, but it was not to last as a new sound ruptured the song; an engine revving, its tempo rapidly increasing, the car whispered, spoke, shouted, screamed, shrieked at the child, his heart seized the rhythm as its own and sped to match. His heart pounded in his ears as the engine continued to climb, shifting through gears at a break neck pace, finally the siren's call clawed the child out the window, his eyes burst open, his mouth gapping in anticipation, the scream only grew louder as the car accelerated, the child's ears searched for the sound, his free hand clenched as he heard more, the squealing of brakes, the crunching of metal, the dying cry of another person. A single tear fell from his face onto his hand as it idly drew, he looked down to find it had depicted the accident he had just witnessed, more tears fell when he realized who it was behind the wheel. The teacher stopped her recitation and the child looked up to see a man he would have to rely on for the rest of his life. Even as more tears stung the corner of his eyes the child stood up, closed his notebook on the gruesome scene and left for the hospital.

Bump.

Once upon a time, they lived happily ever after. THE END :D

I was only nine years old >I loved Shrek so much, I owned all the movies and merchandise >I pray to Shrek every night, thanking him for the life I have been given >"Shrek is love", I say, "Shrek is life" >My dad hears me and calls me a -blam!- > He is obviously jealous of my devotion to Shrek >I called him a -blam!- > He slaps me and sends me to my room > I am crying now, because my face hurts > I go into my bed and it is very cold >I feel a warmth moving towards me > I fell something touch me > It's Shrek > I am so happy > he whispers into my ear, "This is my swamp" > He grabs me with his powerful ogre hands and puts me on my hands and knees > I'm ready > I spread my ass cheeks for Shrek > He penetrates my butthole > It hurts so much, but I do it for Shrek > I can feel my anus tearing as my eyes start to water > I push against his force > I want to please Shrek > He roars a mighty roar as he fills my butt with his love > My dad walks in > Shrek looks him deep in the eyes and says, "It's all ogre now" > Shrek leaves through my window

How to fit 4 gays on a bar stool. Flip it upside down!