Fable #1

Once upon a time a/an (adjective) (noun) expert named (name of person in room) felt a/an (adjective) pain. He sent for a/an (adjective) surgeon who looked at his (adjective) stomach and said, "(Exclamation)!" Then he muttered (adverb), "I see your trouble. The (noun) on your (adjective) stomach is overlapping the (noun) next to your kidney." The surgeon (adverb) took him to the (adjective) operating room of the hospital. There he made a/an (adjective) incision reaching from the patient's (noun) to his (noun). "(Exclamation)!" said the surgeon. "That takes care of that (adjective) (noun)." With that, he began sewing up the incision. However, on the tenth stitch the patient sneezed and almost pulled the (noun) out of the (noun), but the surgeon took one final stitch and saved the (noun).
MORAL: A/An (noun) in time saves nine.

Klin said...
Once upon a time a super clean chocolate looking dog expert named Monkey J felt a happy pain. He sent for a beautiful dancing surgeon who looked at his half-baked stomach and said, "What the Cauliflower!" Then he muttered obstinately, "I see your trouble. The brokenhearted teen on your wishing upon stomach is overlapping the used car next to your kidney." The surgeon hawtly took him to the sweet smelling operating room of the hospital. There he made a dome tentish incision reaching from the patient's hawt husband to his pile of blankets. "How in the rotten bananas did you get that?!" said the surgeon. "That takes care of that lovely warm fireplace." With that, he began sewing up the incision. However, on the tenth stitch the patient sneezed and almost pulled the creative talent out of the Chinese food, but the surgeon took one final stitch and saved the painted fence.
MORAL: A rambling sentence in time saves nine.

Millie said...
Once upon a time an artificially red-haired prosti-tot expert named Norman the Doorman felt a skeevy pain. He sent for a high-voiced surgeon who looked at his dented stomach and said, "Holy poop, what a dream I was having!" Then he muttered weasel-stompingly, "I see your trouble. The beef bouillon cube on your crotchedy stomach is overlapping the phone hole next to your kidney." The surgeon appreciatively took him to the tongue-rolling operating room of the hospital. There he made a stiff incision reaching from the patient's mad duck on a string to his Target lingerie employee. "Rough!" said the surgeon. "That takes care of that Jello-slapping butt cheek." With that, he began sewing up the incision. However, on the tenth stitch the patient sneezed and almost pulled the boy raised by bees out of the Primary substitute teacher, but the surgeon took one final stitch and saved the flicked earlobe.
MORAL: A hospital bed crank in time saves nine.