Three Word Story

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Geordie
Posts: 173
Joined: Fri Sep 12, 2014 10:54 am
Location: North East

Here we go thought the trader. Ready to smash a Greggs pasty, because he was a secret agent. Find me a replacement for my steak bake pasty, the other one could be bugged. But fck me, gently with a prize winning leek. He woke up startled and confused, with tears in his ample buttocks. It was still his last egg of the Alien invasion, he realised.

Nervously he reached for his wife, but soon realised she was gone with a note, left on the steak bake pasty. The prized egg a double yolker. "Hmm, strange coincidence", he said grasping his false leg covered in ketchup, with a greasy sausage that was forever a memory.

Are you there?, report the status. The status was null and void, or was it?

To be continued.

The vicar arrived, "Where's my Greggs?", Greggs was infested with suspension monkey's. "Not again", thought Betfair's Support Team. ''Anyone got a clue'' he said. The trader wept. On the flipside his wife phoned to console him, she was naked!

Ooh er missus!. Is that a bucket of creosote for the fence or for me?? A pure whitewash at the Whitehouse (AKA The Sh!tehouse). "Come with me" said Donald Trump, Trumpety trump - thump!, the vicar gasped three hail mary's, the trader fainted. He awoke to yet another multiverse, sweating profusely he checked his watch - tickety, tickety tock!!.

The penny dropped - he'd been robbed, "Where's my Greggs?", he phoned Greggs, Lenny Henry answered, "Katanga my friends” "Where's my Greggs?“, “payment was declined” The vicar laughed. The story ends.. or does it?

Neverending Story was Limahl's best song, I can sing while I trade
Korattt
Posts: 2405
Joined: Mon Dec 21, 2015 6:46 pm

Here we go thought the trader. Ready to smash a Greggs pasty, because he was a secret agent. Find me a replacement for my steak bake pasty, the other one could be bugged. But fck me, gently with a prize winning leek. He woke up startled and confused, with tears in his ample buttocks. It was still his last egg of the Alien invasion, he realised.

Nervously he reached for his wife, but soon realised she was gone with a note, left on the steak bake pasty. The prized egg a double yolker. "Hmm, strange coincidence", he said grasping his false leg covered in ketchup, with a greasy sausage that was forever a memory.

Are you there?, report the status. The status was null and void, or was it?

To be continued.

The vicar arrived, "Where's my Greggs?", Greggs was infested with suspension monkey's. "Not again", thought Betfair's Support Team. ''Anyone got a clue'' he said. The trader wept. On the flipside his wife phoned to console him, she was naked!

Ooh er missus!. Is that a bucket of creosote for the fence or for me?? A pure whitewash at the Whitehouse (AKA The Sh!tehouse). "Come with me" said Donald Trump, Trumpety trump - thump!, the vicar gasped three hail mary's, the trader fainted. He awoke to yet another multiverse, sweating profusely he checked his watch - tickety, tickety tock!!.

The penny dropped - he'd been robbed, "Where's my Greggs?", he phoned Greggs, Lenny Henry answered, "Katanga my friends” "Where's my Greggs?“, “payment was declined” The vicar laughed. The story ends.. or does it?

Neverending Story was Limahl's best song, I can sing while I trade, “Isn’t she lovely”
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wearthefoxhat
Posts: 3205
Joined: Sun Feb 18, 2018 9:55 am

Here we go thought the trader. Ready to smash a Greggs pasty, because he was a secret agent. Find me a replacement for my steak bake pasty, the other one could be bugged. But fck me, gently with a prize winning leek. He woke up startled and confused, with tears in his ample buttocks. It was still his last egg of the Alien invasion, he realised.

Nervously he reached for his wife, but soon realised she was gone with a note, left on the steak bake pasty. The prized egg a double yolker. "Hmm, strange coincidence", he said grasping his false leg covered in ketchup, with a greasy sausage that was forever a memory.

Are you there?, report the status. The status was null and void, or was it?

To be continued.

The vicar arrived, "Where's my Greggs?", Greggs was infested with suspension monkey's. "Not again", thought Betfair's Support Team. ''Anyone got a clue'' he said. The trader wept. On the flipside his wife phoned to console him, she was naked!

Ooh er missus!. Is that a bucket of creosote for the fence or for me?? A pure whitewash at the Whitehouse (AKA The Sh!tehouse). "Come with me" said Donald Trump, Trumpety trump - thump!, the vicar gasped three hail mary's, the trader fainted. He awoke to yet another multiverse, sweating profusely he checked his watch - tickety, tickety tock!!.

The penny dropped - he'd been robbed, "Where's my Greggs?", he phoned Greggs, Lenny Henry answered, "Katanga my friends” "Where's my Greggs?“, “payment was declined” The vicar laughed. The story ends.. or does it?

Neverending Story was Limahl's best song, I can sing while I trade, “Isn’t she lovely, made from love"
Korattt
Posts: 2405
Joined: Mon Dec 21, 2015 6:46 pm

Here we go thought the trader. Ready to smash a Greggs pasty, because he was a secret agent. Find me a replacement for my steak bake pasty, the other one could be bugged. But fck me, gently with a prize winning leek. He woke up startled and confused, with tears in his ample buttocks. It was still his last egg of the Alien invasion, he realised.

Nervously he reached for his wife, but soon realised she was gone with a note, left on the steak bake pasty. The prized egg a double yolker. "Hmm, strange coincidence", he said grasping his false leg covered in ketchup, with a greasy sausage that was forever a memory.

Are you there?, report the status. The status was null and void, or was it?

To be continued.

The vicar arrived, "Where's my Greggs?", Greggs was infested with suspension monkey's. "Not again", thought Betfair's Support Team. ''Anyone got a clue'' he said. The trader wept. On the flipside his wife phoned to console him, she was naked!

Ooh er missus!. Is that a bucket of creosote for the fence or for me?? A pure whitewash at the Whitehouse (AKA The Sh!tehouse). "Come with me" said Donald Trump, Trumpety trump - thump!, the vicar gasped three hail mary's, the trader fainted. He awoke to yet another multiverse, sweating profusely he checked his watch - tickety, tickety tock!!.

The penny dropped - he'd been robbed, "Where's my Greggs?", he phoned Greggs, Lenny Henry answered, "Katanga my friends” "Where's my Greggs?“, “payment was declined” The vicar laughed. The story ends.. or does it?

Neverending Story was Limahl's best song, I can sing while I trade, “Isn’t she lovely, made from love", vicar wasn’t impressed
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