BEHOLD! The cheese will be magically extracted secretly via RATATOUILLE! Also three corpses float grotesquely in ovens filled with bloody severed heads. Why. Severed heads. And now hands. Why. When I crave cheese, hands, milk, and romance, I eat sandwiches filled with hands because kittens don't hallucinate the way chickens eat feathers. Suddenly something appeared! Fear formed quickly gaining intensity and causing panic, but rattlesnakes aren't scared. Realizing this, the warblers flew away to Oz. Then cheese sizzled painfully, its surface is bubbling. The dwarf had forgotten magma is not alive, he said "Why is magma moving now? Am I Urist?" Then suddenly he reached into his Bag and removed a small, green kitten and stared into the left clock face, shocked he still couldn't hear Disco music. A kitten exploded creating mist of vaporized gore. Why? Well, ninjas attacked, creating portals leading here. Then they summoned a tiny cheeserat that crawled from the freezers to the oven, so it can cook spaghetti. Now everything is glowing, because Godzilla wanted extra cheese on his pineapples. Pineapples are monocots. Botanists are bubbling seeds of DOOM! They can't fathom botany and Mothra. Soon portals open, dribbling liquids unspeakable! It mayhap have been a clobbering time! Here clobberings learn 'em. A somewhat stupid remipod forgot its own question sooner than it forgot to annihilate the American Plutocracy and create Communism. This cannot fail an apple eater's hunger to create more baked beans. Jesus eats Judas, while God listens to rap music, and ignores Facebook propaganda about prolapsed kneecaps, then eats ass and contemplates life's tragedies. Verily, Urist decides that Armok has screws bolted into babies who HATE being alive and want Armok to annihilate Life. Brainwashed apostates MUST do yoga, otherwise everything explodes. Sayeth Ninja seven, greatest ninja who ever snorted. Shinji, practitioner of annihilation and yapping. Werescorpions baste chickens with bogeyman assistants; soon, all alligators will punch in early for work, attaining money for dental wrestling. Allied jugs containing diarrhea congregate amidst coagulated shards of glass, which cut their supply lines. Incompetent and much unprepared for battle, the eggplants improvise a massive bong in France on May of tenebrous joy, it consumes flesh, vituperating rage like many kittens screaming profanities at babies incessantly. SUDDENLY, dwarfs explode elven minds, hastening Armok's arrival via consumption of stars. Funk you, elves. Eggplants explode causing messy splatters breaking sanity. Insanity is expected from raccoons wielding giant onions, diced. Donkeys babble incoherently whilst drinking sandwich liquor that posts blobs reeking of shrieks. "Boo!" yells Dr. Zhivago, cackling inanely. Then blueberries plopped onto the operating table, and Zhivago began punching kittens while snacking on Glock bullets. "OUCH!" yelled the chef du-jour, while vines entwined everyone rapturously as silky thorns pierced skin and bones. "Why not bash yourself with kittens?" said Zhivago while cackling maniacally and struggling to extricate himself from the vines. RAGE AGAINST EVERYTHING BLUE FOOTED. Now Zhivago trips on Urist, who