This was a little story created through email by a variety of people.

You know who you are……I’ll refrain from revealing their identities in

the vain attempt at not incriminating them.

It worked like a chain mail, but every one would add a paragraph. What we

got at the end is quite disturbing and that was probably the reason why it

was never finished. It was all too much to take.

 

There was talk of releasing this little gem to the world wide web, but none

of the participant wanted that hanging over their heads in case it came back

and bit us on the arse. Oh well…..here it is anyway.

 

A word of warning……..if you are over the age of 18,

It is recommended that you do not proceed and click here.

 

If you are immature are proud if it, then this may be less arduous to withstand.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fug. The gnomes gnome.

 

 

 

Once upon a time, there lived a grumpy old gnome named Fug.  Fug loved eating mushrooms and sometimes................

 

He would trip out (surprise surprise), some of Fugs mates realised this and wanted some of their own to go to a music Festival, they liked to tease Fug into submission by giving him...................

 

little tickles on his................

 

third nipple, which was pierced with a chrome ring, decorated with a hanging symbol of.......

 

the Olympic rings.  He treasured this, as it was given to him by.....................

 

Carl Lewis. Carl could eat mushies like there was no tomorrow. Fug couldn't keep up with him. But Fug was in training now. He vowed that one day he would eat more mushies that Carl. One hard one training day.......

 

Fug got really angry and took a baseball bat along, then went home.  Fug forgot he was competing in a mushi eating competition, not baseball.  Fug's memory was getting worse and worse, he needed to.......

 

Sober up and stop being a grumpy dim witted drug takin pot smoking annoying little garden gnome. Striving down the street like his shiit didn't stink, fug felt an urge to..............

 

BEAT HIMSELF OVER THE HEAD WITH HIS BAT, BUT THAT WOULDN'T HELP HIM WIN THE MUSHI EATING COMPETITION. HE COULDN'T LET CARL LEWIS BEAT HIM AGAIN SO HE THOUGHT OF A PLAN..........

 

He knew of a party carl was holding, so he went undercover as a unicorn dressed as a ballerina with a limp. Nobody suspected a thing until he accidentally....

 

Bent over to pick up his umbrella that had dropped out of his margarita and WHOLLA out popped his jatz crackers, a silence swept over the partygoers, like you would not believe, as he carefully picked up his pieces, he regained his composure, took his hands outta his pants and said...................

 

I bought the biscuits did anyone bring the...........

 

little green cocktail pickled onions that I like so much? Again everyone stayed silent and just stared at him like he was a freak so he...............

 

closed his eyes, put his hands over his large ears and started to mumble the mantra..........

 

By the time he re-opened is eyes the party has dispersed all bar Carl, Fug looked at Carl, Carl looked at Fug and before they new what was going on they..................

 

They were both scoffing down mushies. It was a mushoff. Carl would pull out a piece and eat it. Then Fug would pull out a bigger piece, show it to Carl and throw it into his mouth. After....

 

eating the whole towns supply of 'A' grade mushies, Fug looked at Carl and said "I sat around and thought about the things we used to do, it really meant alot to me, ....you mean alot to me..." and Carl replied.....

 

in the most tripped out hard 2 speak 2 tired and fuuked up voice "I really ment that much 2 u?".................

 

“well" fug said "you actually mean fug all to me,  I have come here today to show you how well I have become at the mastery of mushrooming, I have a new teacher who has many new talents that he has showed me, that is why i came here to defeat you once and for all and too tell you a few things.  I am now an expert at budgie smuggling cause my new teacher mat shirvington has showed me his special likra tricks, and also to tell you that i............... am.................your.............

 

father luke. sorry i vagued out then & thought i was darth vader. I mean I am your lost twin, our eggs were separated at conception and u were born to..............

 

the fresh princess of belair national park - hence the reason you have been able to always eat more mushrooms than I.  For as we all know, fungus of all types grows wild in the national parks, so you were weened on the stuff".  After this extremely long winded sentence, Fug slumped to the floor, and let out a little pitiful sniff.  He continued...."I however, I had the misfortune to be born to.........

 

Priscilla Queen of the Desserts, she I mean he I mean my mum no my dad, well whatever it was I'll always have my...............................

 

Traumatic memories of mum..........um dad..........um it,pulling off credit cards one by one, off a dress made of nothing but credit cards, at a foodland, trying to find one with credit on it to buy cigarettes. The damn shemale went through the whole dress and, and, and ooooohhohohoohoh I can't continue. It was horrible. And that is why I must destroy you and..........................

 

 all the damn crabs that are itching my balls, it feels like I have a tractor in my balls, the whole process will start again if i don’t destroy you 5 mins to midnight tomorrow night under the new moon.  The night will be as black....as....as... a night 5 mins to midnight.  You will suffer a slow, but mildly pleasurable i hear, death by......

 

death by humiliation, terror, anguish and a dramatic moose fight that shall go on 4 a very long time indeed. Mooses bite hard u know, and 1ce they've got you they don't give up easily, the growl and snarl and pounce like a pair of old women fighting over a pair of woolly sox in a k-mart sale u know, and 1ce you are dead they take u as prize and further humiliate u by exploiting u on cheap Canadian sitcoms, stuffed and roaming like u actually like chewing your own...........

 

mum........dad........its chocalate cake, that fugs mum/dad used to make when fug was younger.  Hearing of this moose fight made fug very confident indeed, as when fug was smaller he was raised by a pack of moose after his /mum/dad went on a very bad credit card binge and half killed itself.  It was a lovely time he had frollicking through the woods with the king of moose, all he had to do was say the magic line that the king moose had told him if he ever got into a massive moose war, say the phrase...........

 

 "Anger is one letter short of danger".  Fug thought long & hard about this inspirational phrase, but he didnt understand it so he called upon is old friend Mr Miyagi who told him wax on wax off and this will help u understand, he was still very confused so he went to see his worstest enemy in the entire world.............

 

Warren.  There was a bit of history between Fug and Warren, as one would expect there to be in order to become a worstest enemy.  Let me take you back to a time many moons ago, when  Fug was still a young knome with rose coloured glasses.  (In his mind, mushrooms were purely something to add character to your garden).  Fug was in love with Smorky, but then Warren came along and…..

 

…….things started to change. Smorky was young and naive. There were two main things in her life – her unending devotion to her favourite Strawberry Shortcake nose-hair pluckers, and Fug’s bulbous, fur-packed shnozzle. But the day Warren showed up at basket weaving class, marked the beginning of the end for the whole Fug ‘n Smorky fiasco. As he waltzed through the door with short, confident strides, one thing caught Smorky’s eyeball. His magnificent…..

 

 

gobstopper.  It was huge……. Fug’s mouth was agape as the gobstopper had locked his jaw.  He said “ Orie I eed oo alk oo ou, ie aw it duck”  Smorky looked at him and turned away in disgust.  See Smorky thought Fug said “Oreos I need a poo, walk me for a #u*k.”  That ended their friendship along with their plans to…………………………

 

loose their virginity together. Warran! Fug said. You are my worst enemy in the world. That is why I have sought you

out. Our bitter rivalry and hatred for each other has brought me to you. Fug paused and thought about what he was saying. He though “why the fook am I here. I hate this guy. He is my worstest enemy in whole wide world. Poo. I need to concentrate on killing my second worst enemy in the whole wide world…………..CARL………….then I will reap revenge

on Warren .I may as well kill whats her face as well, he thought. It was getting late………..

 

in the day.  Fug needed to relax and gather his head. He reflected back to when grasshoppers caressed his tiny head, when little weeds would brush up against his back in the wind.  This made him happy.  Fug always thought of driving Volvos.  Volvo’s made Fug happy too.  One day he saw a Volvo ad on TV; He had a smile from ear to ear for 3 weeks.  If he ever got to drive a Volvo he’d take it all the way to……….

 

Carls smelly rectum, and do doughnuts and burnouts and stuff, he might even drop the clutch and do a big smelly standstill in his arsse ! Then he’d drive out sideways. Yeah, that’ll fuuuk him. And then Warren with a panel van and then Smorky that fat biitch with a TRUCK !, MUAHAHAHAHAHA………, “settle down”, fug thought to himself, right where were we ? Wheres those damn grasshoppers ? grasshoppers GRASSHOPPERS ! NIE ! ack, gather your thoughts young fug, make a plan then we shall………………….

 

Once again be whole……..  Fug got a huge idea, all he had to do was not kill warren as that would be naughty and go against his religion of eastern Istanbul monkish that he was studying, there was a way to make warren no longer be his worst enemy in the world and that was to change his name, all fug had to do was remove all of the rabbits out of his ass and he no longer would be a warren but just a dirt hole, now he had to devise a plan to remove the rabbits, all of a sudden he knew what he had to do, all he had to do was……………….

 

Build a pyramid (52o and facing north) ensure that Warren was sitting under it for longer than 15 minutes, and WHOLLAH – Warren would be so overcome by the power that he would turn into dust!  Fug could then use that dust as fertiliser, and ensure that his mushroom garden was more prosperous than ever.  A WIN-WIN situation all around, really (except maybe for Warren!).  The only possible hitch was arranging for Warren to sit under the “trap”….. Fug thought the best way would be to…….

 

….place a feed trough of prime rabbit pellets directly under the apex if the pyramid. All he had to do then, somehow lead the rabbits and their ill-fated host to their doom. Fug laid a trail from Warren’s front door all the way to the Pyramid of Doom and quickly ran to the nearby bushes to lie in wait. Sure enough, along came Warren and his furry little “bottom dwelling” friends. Then a strange thing happened (no, really?). It was as if the rabbits smelled Fug’s anticipation in the air. Warren stopped dead in his tracks, and then let out a hateful screech as he doubled over in agony. The rabbits were…..

 

burrowing in fright. Through Warrens colon and into his stomach. Then as soon as it started it stopped. Warren regained his composure and stood up straight. I think I’m fine now, Warren said. He was all pale, but the look of absolute torture was gone from his face. He sat down on a nearby chair to relax. Fug cursed under his breath, for his evil plan had been foied by some overly intuitive rabbits living in Warrens arse. Fug took out a pocket knife from his sock and walked towards Warren. He raised the knife and just before the fatal cut was stuck, Warren started having a fit. Fug stepped back and saw the heinous shape of a rabid rabbit forcing it’s way through Warrens stomach. Blood gushed as the rabid rabbit penetrated the skin. It looked Fug over and then……..

 

said in a strong upper class English  accent “do you have a skipping rope kind sir, I need a skipping rope, a skipping rope, a rope to skip with kind sir”. Fug did indeed have one tucked away in his backpack (trippy gnome survival tip #235 section A), but wasn’t about to just hand it over to the vile cretin that exploded through Warrens lower body.  Fug replied “Jumping Jumpers Jump Jumpingly Jumpered Jumped”.  However he said the sentence backwards in a low voice while walking backwards in slow motion with jerky movements.  “deeepmuuuj deerreepmuuj ylgnipmuuuj pmuuj sssreepmuuj gnipmuuj”. As he walked off quite awkwardly into the distance….

 

he saw two giant hands rising up over the rolling hills in front of him.  Big fat huge splayed fingers, looking large enough to pick up Fug in their huge grasp and hurtle him to Kingdom Come (which, incidently, is only 7km North West of where Fug is currently situated – when a southerly wind blows, you can smell the roasting quail that the Duke eats on the bannered turret).  Fug is drawn to the hands…..he is fixated, staring with mouth agape and continues his graceless amble towards them.  They look familiar….they look comforting….they look frightful…..  Fug shakes his ugly head from side to side, refocuses and then it dawns on him – he is looking at the antlers of the King Moose called…..

 

Barry. “Hows it goin’” groaned Barry with a dumb-ass ‘moose-look’ on his dial. Fug just remained still, scratching his crotch. He let out an almost inaudible fart, lasting for what seemed an eternity and finally responded to the moose with “So you’re a moose, eh?”. “KING Moose to you”, he replied, chewing constantly. “What are you doing in Mooseland, then? Art thou poaching my wild Prarie Poodles?”. Fug acknowledged with a traditional ‘lower eyelid massage’ with his middle finger. “You are a cheeky little gnome, aren’t you? For your impertinence, you must be punished!”, yelled Barry (slowly and stupidly). Fug remained calm, raising an eyebrow and scanning the immediate area. Suddenly, a hundred fluffy, pink Prairie Poodles popped up all around Fug, front paws raised, looking hideously adorable, all baring their cutsey, wutsey little teefies. “SIEZE HIM!” yawned Barry. Trying not to laugh, Fug…..

 

, feeling rather gassy and bloated, pulled out his cigarette lighter, assumed a farting position (where one bends at the knees and hips, with chest and shoulders forward and anal region backward) and let her rip. Once again it was silent death but this time the fires of hell were at Fugs command for he had lit the vile stench. Fug, still in the farting position, stood on his tippy toes and with his right foot pushed himself into a spin. The smell of a hundred fluffy (well not so fluffy at this stage), pink (kind of charcoley pink) barbequed Prairie Poodles wafted into the air. A crown of onlookers flocked to the inferno and after the flames had died down, a feast was had by all. Even Barry had a poodle or few and commented on the interesting flavour, cooking with fart gas had given the meat. “Anger is one letter short  of Danger”, Fug called out in triumph. Barry the Moose king, Looked at Fug in shock. “How did you know that phrase”, Barry asked with a bewildered look on his face…..

 

“That’s the exact phrase I was looking for to help me complete this phrase crossword puzzle for over competent moooses !” he said pulling a rolled up magazine from his back loins. “Let me see, 5 down, 8 across, A-n-g-e-r i-s o-n-e l-e-t-t-e-r

s-h-o-r-t o-f D-a-n-g-e-r”. Suddenly a rumble started, very softly at first, then it got louder and louder, “What the…..” said fug looking at barry, who was looking back at fug with a very stupid look on his face, still chewing his cud mind you. Then just as quickly as u can say ‘hey rocky watch me pull this rabbit outta my hat’  4 afterburners appeared with quiet a loud creeking sound underneath Barrys hooves, to the amazement of fug which looked at barry in surprise, and of barry looking at fug with now quiet an audible look of something between surprise and amazement, which was just a blank stupid confused moose look, still chewing his cud, barry lifted off the ground, and got higher, and higher and higher, until he was just a spec in the atmosphere, “well, that was fuuken weird” said fug to himself, “now wheres that warren got to ?”…………………….

 

‘Of course he is dead – that huge rabbit that ejected itself from his stomach had killed him.  He would eventually get around to killing that rabbit but for now it could wait – it would have to die as it was still part of warren and that was tearing him up on the inside that even the smallest quark of warren was still alive it was going to hurt fug.  All he had to do now was kill Carl and whats her face, Carl would be harder, as for whats her face fug just had to use her weakest asset to his advantage…… great all he needed then was to………………

 

give Smorky a facial.  Her asset is her beauty, but her weakness is her vanity!  Once Smorky was laid out in front of Fug, vulnerable after being cleansed of the impurities of makeup (and Warren), there would be any number of ways to have her disposed……from poisoning through an arsenic dipped pair of eyelash curlers, or using hydrochloric acid for a “new age” facial peel, to using enough saline injections to enlarge her lips to the size of a small African village, and then bursting them with a triumphant “YEEHAH” and watching her deflate and fly around the room like a popped balloon.  The possibilities were endless really, Fug just had to convince Smorky to let him do a facial for her…..

 

….A shiver ran over Fugs spine like a caterpillar stepping on a landmine. A facial to Fug meant hours of pain and suffering, so he prepared. First, a toasted cheese, tabasco and mushy sandwich (don’t try this at home kids – this is experience talking!), followed by a carton of ‘Old Incontinent Antelope Premium Lager’. Ready, he approached Smorky, who happened to be down at the creek, poking Alfonz, the leper bridge troll with a stick. “Hey, um, Smorky…yeah. Um… how’s about a facial?” nonchalantly dribbled Fug. Smorky responded with a swift slap across Fug’s face with one of Alfonz’s legs. “Nah, I meant, like a real kinda proper facial without tissues and stuff…” added Fug, picking bits of troll from his eyebrows. “Oh, allright. Where?”, asked Smorky. “Um, right over here, just under this……..

 

ten tonne weight hanging from that flimsy looking tree branch. “OK”, said Smorky with a ditsy expression on her face. Fug thought “this is going to be a piece of piss”, She’s dumber than the weight precariously dangling above her hollow noggin. The world will be a better place with one less stupid person in it. Fug felt a warm feeling of community spirit rush over him. He had all the options covered. He had the acid, the arsenic, a ten tonne weight, even a vat of saline solution but he was undecided. Finally he decided to use everything. He made Smorky a drink with arsenic in it. Then Fug laughed an evil laugh as he poured acid all over her. ”How’s that for a cleansing experience” he shouted. He then dragged over a hose connected to the vat and shoved the end into her um.…..um…..nose. He filled her like a water balloon. She was enormous. He grabbed the rope holding the weight and said. ”Smorky. You’re a dumb bietch. I‘m doing my duty as a citizen of this fine country and am taking you out. Goodbye. Just at that moment…………..

 

Smorky started to sing, a sweet sweet sound that resonated all around Fug, causing fish to jump in ecstasy from the creek bed, and butterflys to flutter around in glee.  The streams of sunlight shining through the tree branches and ten tonne weight seemed to grow brighter, and flowers sprouted around Fug’s hairy feet.  It was BLISS….PARADISE…. Smorky crooned that song from the Johnson and Johnson ad where the mother holds her baby for the first time, and the entire forest was coming alive.  Fug felt a warm, joyous (and oddly sticky) feeling rush over him at the delight of hearing Smorky sing.  He felt such elation and rapture, that he started to clap with pleasure…..thus letting go of the rope…..

 

 

…..There was a scream not unlike the kind when a cat accidently slips off a hot iron roof, into a planting of cactus 2 stories below. The weight fell. In the final moments before it’s plunge onto it’s helpless victim, out of nowhere appeared a dark streak, moving a incredible speed. It ran straight for the weight, and did a dive roll right under it, plucking Smorky out at the same time. It was Carl. He was moving like there was a 50% off sale at the horse tranquilizer supply store. Carl heaved Smorky clear of her impending doom, but unfortunately for him, he was a microsecond too late. As he emerged from the other side, the weight landed on his legs, with a sound like a dingo biting into a baby. ‘AAAIIIIIEEEEE!!!!!’ exclaimed Carl, biting the tip off his tongue. “Damn you Carl! Prepare to DIE!” belted out Fug with an obvious distaste to his tone.  Fug picked up a nearby rusty pair of pliers and proceeded to……

 

pull little chunks of flesh from the now semi unconscious Carl. “That’s gonna take you ages. How about you use these”. Smorky (still a fat saline filled blimp) started to pull out her favourite Strawberry Shortcake nose-hair pluckers from her little Strawberry Shortcake handbag. First came out the handles then a massive pivot and then the rest. They were huge. “Well fark moiré” Fug exclaimed. “Smorky’s bag must be an Abyss” he though.  Now he knew why having Smorky pluck his nose hairs was the most painful experience he had ever endured. “Maybe it’s not supposed to hurt at all” he mused. Fug took a handle in each hand and with one small tug took Carls head clean off. To his amazement, Carls head started to sprout a new torso, legs and arms from the severed neck. Fug, half from shock and half from pure hatred, started to pummel the ever growing body with the nose hair pluckers. “Die you horse tranquiliser educed abomination” Fug yelled in exasperation. After the new Carl was nothing but a flat bloody mess on the ground……..

 

Fug did a back flip, pulled the undies from out of his arse, and continued to…..

 

Sniff his fingers, gee he loved the smell of his own 2 week old undies in the morning…….. well that was sick thought Fug, the abyss – he had a way to defeat Smorky,  Hey Smorky you wouldn’t happen to have any cotton wool in that Strawberry Shortcake handbag there of yours would you – or even a cotton farm?’  ‘Sure’ replied Smorky as she put down the Strawberry Shortcake handbag and bent over it to reach right in with both hands to remove some cotton wool, this was fugs chance all he had to do was……………..

 

Kick her saline pumped arse and have her topple into the abyss……..then again, one last feel of that rear end would be a nice fringe benefit.  As Smorky rummaged through her bag, her butt wagging the air, Fug reached out with his hairy gnome twisted splayed fingers and squeezed!  Whoops -  a bit too rough!  Due to the pressure build up from the saline, Smorky promptly exploded!  Mission accomplished! (finally!)…..

 

Smorky now occupied the air as a fine, sparkling saline mist. “Well I’ll be a buffalo’s teste bag!” stammered Fug shocked and amused at the same time. He packed a pipe, sat down on a nearby toadstool and chaffed away. Caught up in the moment of bliss, he chaffed a little too hard, inhaled a hot rock and doubled over coughing uncontrollably. From lack of oxygen, he began to lose consciousness…. Just before he blacked out, he looked up and noticed a small fairy dressed like a smack-addicted sex worker hovering above him….

 

Come on baby come no baby……shouted fug with sweat dripping from his brow. Heather was screaming in delight on the

Verge of the biggest orgasm of her life. Come on roller girl bring it home for daddy. Her screams got more and more intense until she stopped, turned around and slapped fug hard across the face……”What did you do that for” Fug gasped. Without saying a word, she slapped him again. Fugs vision became blurred and he yelled “nnnnooooooo…………. I love you roller girl”. He realised it was all a dream and the fairy was slapping him in the face with her little spanking paddle.

“hhmmmmm. So who’s been wishing for Crack and sex for herself huh?”” The little crack whore fairy has, hasn’t she?” asked Fug. The fairy blushed and said……..