Three Word Story
- Thread starter Mem
- Start date
-
Christian Chat is a moderated online Christian community allowing Christians around the world to fellowship with each other in real time chat via webcam, voice, and text, with the Christian Chat app. You can also start or participate in a Bible-based discussion here in the Christian Chat Forums, where members can also share with each other their own videos, pictures, or favorite Christian music.
If you are a Christian and need encouragement and fellowship, we're here for you! If you are not a Christian but interested in knowing more about Jesus our Lord, you're also welcome! Want to know what the Bible says, and how you can apply it to your life? Join us!
To make new Christian friends now around the world, click here to join Christian Chat.
CC: Three Word Story
Chapter 1
There one was a young lady with a funny hat on her list of things, removed the hat, burped and laughed out loud. Then, God is good in every way, every single day, except one day He was great. He’s even greater! God gave his magical lightsaber to the lunchlady and the lady used the force of her will to make sandwiches for the crew to eat while they worked out their differences which were many.
But sooner than expected, the crew started goofing off and putting pinwheels on their heads and flew to the zenith of folly, and fell asleep in their fatigue. The lady gave them several more sandwiches before the flood of reporters came to investigate the commotion. The lady calmed the frenzied crowd, offering petit fours which was eaten. The lady’s name was renown (sic) for great cooking but her hospitality could not compare to her good cooking.
Whenever guests arrived, they often had to create a paper machete (sic) animal that looked quite descriptive. The guest would then receive a spritz of pink Turkish Delight packaged to go. One guest exclaimed, “Hey! What is in this drink because it tastes more like a jar of grease, I love it!”
Grease eaters always wear speedos, and round and round like people who, up and down, drive fast cars. Suddenly, there was a large bowl of cole slaw but no fork, so I decided to get one bent fork with kung fu grip tine to split, cheap plastic fork, used tongs instead.
Three Word Story (sic) They worked until riots broke out. Food police arrived, confiscating junk food for the winter. Everyone was relieved to see that laughter really heals everything but hunger. Quickly the mirth turned into tears of joy when the crew remembered that their troubles seemed far away.
For now, peace reigned over the pickle berry pie factory. There appeared no peace inside, but Rupert adamantly proclaimed there was a false sense. Peace and prosperity came to rule over the earth. Many believed it, prayed for it, because to sew torn britches saves pumpkin stains, ofcourse (sic), (swipes blue lady), from ruining the fabric of society. Controversy had it that two opposites rode the waves of seven seas for all eternity, except on Tuesdays. And confidently exclaiming, “Life is like a lonely donkey and a flock of bunnies that distributed Easter eggs.”
Each egg had nine kittens but their tails were multi-colored, brightening up like lightning bugs riding the wind in their dreams. The aforementioned donkey had a cowlick, a cracking good pudding pie pineapple which was topped with hibiscus flowers. But, I digress. His cowlick overshadowed seriousness, bringing laughter instead of sorrow, joy for kittens who had no beef stew, accordingly, as one kitten ate it all. Berry picking season ended abruptly without, without notice so the factory closed.
Small airports were plane, and simpley grounded in foggy conditions until the skies cleared. The lady, Jane, never waited tables, but danced on stage, flamenco style, with two purple roses from Cairo.
Chapter 2
Shark swam faster, looking for dinner as they swam. Their eyes narrowed and mouths opened, Jane stood defiant whilst being eaten up with curiosity as her light saber dimmed beyond use.
Shark McDougall noticed a “peek-a-boo” lion lounging on a silent bathing hippo. Then bubbles appeared, startling Jane Rupert. They smelled awful as each popped and ripples appeared. This was feared because hippo farts were a quandary. A kitten floated upon one of the hippo’s unburst dark green gooey complimentary inflatable rafts.
The hippo awoke.
“Mmmmm,” he said, wandering to shore, wondered what happened and where did the buffalos roam.
“Over here,” said a cheeky monkey with green teeth and severe halitosis. But before the cheeky monkey with green teeth could reply to the question asked, the hippo sat inquisitive at all (the) cows coming home.
(the hippo) said to himself, “Oh great, now for some lunch.” Licking his lips, he sighed, wept, and chomped into a celery stick with peanut butter. But the celery, inplausible, but true, really, no lie, tasted of asparagus with a hint of old hasenpfeffer of last Saturday’s pleasing little ritual. Believe you me, he felt giddy sniffing daisies and singing alto soprano.
The notes pierced, shattering glass everywhere, triggering car alarms, making dogs howl. “Good Morning, LadyBlue.” Said the hippo, raising an eyebrow and a suspicion of fiscal malfeasance. Juggling circus books, circulating juggling books, make a difference, landing on toes. “Woe is me, what to do, who to be, wearing new sock and purple vest?”
“A new personality!”
Chapter 1
There one was a young lady with a funny hat on her list of things, removed the hat, burped and laughed out loud. Then, God is good in every way, every single day, except one day He was great. He’s even greater! God gave his magical lightsaber to the lunchlady and the lady used the force of her will to make sandwiches for the crew to eat while they worked out their differences which were many.
But sooner than expected, the crew started goofing off and putting pinwheels on their heads and flew to the zenith of folly, and fell asleep in their fatigue. The lady gave them several more sandwiches before the flood of reporters came to investigate the commotion. The lady calmed the frenzied crowd, offering petit fours which was eaten. The lady’s name was renown (sic) for great cooking but her hospitality could not compare to her good cooking.
Whenever guests arrived, they often had to create a paper machete (sic) animal that looked quite descriptive. The guest would then receive a spritz of pink Turkish Delight packaged to go. One guest exclaimed, “Hey! What is in this drink because it tastes more like a jar of grease, I love it!”
Grease eaters always wear speedos, and round and round like people who, up and down, drive fast cars. Suddenly, there was a large bowl of cole slaw but no fork, so I decided to get one bent fork with kung fu grip tine to split, cheap plastic fork, used tongs instead.
Three Word Story (sic) They worked until riots broke out. Food police arrived, confiscating junk food for the winter. Everyone was relieved to see that laughter really heals everything but hunger. Quickly the mirth turned into tears of joy when the crew remembered that their troubles seemed far away.
For now, peace reigned over the pickle berry pie factory. There appeared no peace inside, but Rupert adamantly proclaimed there was a false sense. Peace and prosperity came to rule over the earth. Many believed it, prayed for it, because to sew torn britches saves pumpkin stains, ofcourse (sic), (swipes blue lady), from ruining the fabric of society. Controversy had it that two opposites rode the waves of seven seas for all eternity, except on Tuesdays. And confidently exclaiming, “Life is like a lonely donkey and a flock of bunnies that distributed Easter eggs.”
Each egg had nine kittens but their tails were multi-colored, brightening up like lightning bugs riding the wind in their dreams. The aforementioned donkey had a cowlick, a cracking good pudding pie pineapple which was topped with hibiscus flowers. But, I digress. His cowlick overshadowed seriousness, bringing laughter instead of sorrow, joy for kittens who had no beef stew, accordingly, as one kitten ate it all. Berry picking season ended abruptly without, without notice so the factory closed.
Small airports were plane, and simpley grounded in foggy conditions until the skies cleared. The lady, Jane, never waited tables, but danced on stage, flamenco style, with two purple roses from Cairo.
Chapter 2
Shark swam faster, looking for dinner as they swam. Their eyes narrowed and mouths opened, Jane stood defiant whilst being eaten up with curiosity as her light saber dimmed beyond use.
Shark McDougall noticed a “peek-a-boo” lion lounging on a silent bathing hippo. Then bubbles appeared, startling Jane Rupert. They smelled awful as each popped and ripples appeared. This was feared because hippo farts were a quandary. A kitten floated upon one of the hippo’s unburst dark green gooey complimentary inflatable rafts.
The hippo awoke.
“Mmmmm,” he said, wandering to shore, wondered what happened and where did the buffalos roam.
“Over here,” said a cheeky monkey with green teeth and severe halitosis. But before the cheeky monkey with green teeth could reply to the question asked, the hippo sat inquisitive at all (the) cows coming home.
(the hippo) said to himself, “Oh great, now for some lunch.” Licking his lips, he sighed, wept, and chomped into a celery stick with peanut butter. But the celery, inplausible, but true, really, no lie, tasted of asparagus with a hint of old hasenpfeffer of last Saturday’s pleasing little ritual. Believe you me, he felt giddy sniffing daisies and singing alto soprano.
The notes pierced, shattering glass everywhere, triggering car alarms, making dogs howl. “Good Morning, LadyBlue.” Said the hippo, raising an eyebrow and a suspicion of fiscal malfeasance. Juggling circus books, circulating juggling books, make a difference, landing on toes. “Woe is me, what to do, who to be, wearing new sock and purple vest?”
“A new personality!”
