This is the incredibly, magnificently short story of Flawlo.
Flawlo was a giant purple thing who's skin had the texture of a rhino's beneath swan's feathers. He had gratuitous, bat-like wings that only propelled him four inches off the floor, presumably to ease the pain of walking on his thumbtacked feet. His mouth was an elephants snout, but he still had trouble breathing through smoker's lungs. His eyes were like that of an eagles who's corneas had been clawed out by large rats. He absorbed the sound around him through miniature, trumpet-like hearing aids that have long before been caked with rust. He carried the physical manifestation of the world's flaws on his abnormally grotesque shoulders for three hundred and sixty-two years.
Cause of death: Unknown.
4 comments:
I wonder what the cause of his death was? Then again, maybe it's not really a trick question.
elephants don't have snouts.
pigs have snouts.
elephants have trunks.
This is why Flawlo died.
I wrote that half-asleep.
Brilliant, huh?
That typos really bugging me but I can't change it..
Lorita: No one cares about how or why flawlo died. *doesn't mean that as harsh as it sounds*
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