I’m sure it’s not just me. Surely other people want an epic scar on their face.
But the thing is, although I want an epic scar on my face… I don’t really want the pain that would be involved in making that epic scar.
There is another way. I could spend ages putting on layers of make-up to create my epic scar. Only one problem, I don’t know how to apply make-up.
So I was wondering if a plastic surgeon could safely create my epic scar in a controlled, pain-free environment. It’s really not that different to normal plastic surgery.
And all I would have to do is create an epic story for my epic scar.
So, I see this chainsaw. And have you ever looked at a chainsaw and thought, I wonder if that could chop my legs off? Well I do.
This chainsaw, it was just lying there next to a tree. So I go over and pick it up. It was heavier than I expected, just like the lightsaber I picked up last week. It was a green chainsaw, just like the lightsaber.
Anyway, so I had the chainsaw in my hands and chopped my legs off, just like I did with the lightsaber last week.
Pretty soon some people started gathering around me to help. Someone called an ambulance and waited for it to arrive. And while she was waiting a guy picked up one of my legs and started hitting me with it. So I picked up my other leg and started hitting him. He ran away.
Then the ambulance bought me here to the hospital. I brought my legs too, you can glue ’em back on, just like last week.
My head hurts, and I don’t know why.
I don’t think it’s what I ate, because I didn’t eat a sore head. I have only eaten human head once, maybe twice, or more. And they were not sore ones.
Maybe it’s because my head is hot. I hear that heads hurt when they’re on fire. But mine isn’t ablaze. It’s just hot, like usual. And I haven’t lit it on fire for a while.
It must hurt because it’s missing something. Two eyes, a jawbone, skin, a brai… But I haven’t removed anything from a head recently, at least not my head. So it must all be there.
So why does it hurt? Also, why is there an axe sticking out of my head?
Well, your honour. I was on my way to the shops. It was a Tuesday. I was feeling a slight bit down, my stomach was a bit sore. I had eaten some dodgy cheese for lunch.
“While I’m sure this is important could you please get to the attack.”
Sorry your honour, but it’s important.
When I got to the shops it I saw the victim straight away. I smiled. At the time the victim was beautiful. Stylish, colourful, clean, a bit unpredictable, but completely lovely.
After admiring the victim, I went into the shops and bought a red whiteboard marker for the presentation I was giving the next day.
I got to the check out and bought my marker. And then as I headed back home I took a second look at my whiteboard marker. It wasn’t a whiteboard marker! It was just a normal mar….
“Please just get to the attack.”
So I’m looking at my marker when out of nowhere this kid throws the victim at me! The victim hits my hand, knocking the marker out. And the marker falls on the victim! The victim had no hope, my marker left the victim with a giant red gash. I’m so, so, sorry. Your football was brilliant.