So I heard mudkips like you.

that was the case when i visited soviet russia in 1943.

i tried to buy a piece of bread but the bread said,

you can't buy me!
i have an reservation!


i was surprised but it wasnt as surprising to have a bread talking to me like that, you know! I am, after all, a highly superior intellectual being with a higher purpose, such as eating to stay alive.


suffice to say, i was angry for being spoken so rudely by a lowly non- living lifeform, and hence, i ate him.
with his last dying breath, it screamed.

I'LL BE BACK!



i was about to express my doubt at this statement when suddenly, a red car that looks like a red star (or its covered in red starz) crashed through the shop glass window, mowing me down, and crashing into a stairs leading upstairs before getting out



fortunately, nobody told me that being run over by a car causes nearly instantaneous death, and hence, i survived.


a man got out of the salubriously painted vehicle. it was a soviet with a gun that was unsafed and aimed in my general direction, not that he wasn't sure i was dead.

I COULDNT BELIEVE IT! TO SEE A REAL, RUSSIAN, SOVIET IN REAL LIFE. I COULDNT HAVE WISHED FOR A BETTER CHANCE TO TAKE A PHOTOGRAPH WITH HIM, AND SO I DID.



Can i have your photograph sir?

i asked. he replied,

sorry, do you have an reservation?



of course, i didnt, but i soon found out it was a rheotical question as he cocked his gun for the about 36th time since he got out of the car.


he pulled the trigger. i closed my eyes.



I WAS ALIVE!


i looked around me and i found out he has already ejected all his bullets out of the chamber due to his excessive cocking of his gun and the last has jammed.


the soviet dropped his gun. he took a menacing step towards me, about to beat me up, i suppose. i was still lying on the floor.


i chided myself for not thinking of getting up before.


suddenly, the soviet screamed.




i looked on in awe as he fell down the flight of steps leading down to me and onto a bullet.

there was a muffled bang sound and i knew he was dead by accident.




and with that, i concluded my defence to the soviet attorney.

stalin was sitting in the judge's seat.

he declared me guilty after wiping the drool from his mouth after he woke up.


i was bundled into a car, handcuffed and surrounded by giant security bears.

i asked one of them where we were going.

he said 'You're movin' with your auntie and uncle in Bel Air'
i said alright and
I whistled for a cab and when it came near
The license plate said 'FRESH' and it had dice in the mirror
If anything I can say this cab is rare
But I thought 'Now forget it' - 'Yo homes to Bel Air'

I pulled up to the house about 7 or 8
And I yelled to the cabbie 'Yo homes smell ya later'
I looked at my kingdom
I was finally there
To settle my throne as the Prince of Bel Air