Here’s how this works. I’ll post a sentence to start our story. The next person continues. And so on, and so on.

I woke up.

Until the demon lord, Diablo, got his hands on it…

Diablo then stuck it in his bum and went along with his business.

Then I started Mephisto raid again.

...so I Kaisers.

Inconnu Posted:

But accidentally found myself in a completely different century.

...so I adjusted my pickelhaube, placed my ragged lips to the worn-out silver whistle, and sounded the shrill call for our marvelous charge against the French lines to begin.

Inconnu Posted:

...and so they carried Nelson down below as quickly as possible, so that none of the crew would know he had been hit… He was mortally wounded, and lying below decks with the battle still raging above, he murmured his last words: “Kiss me, Hardy,”... and then he died.

Hardy spake softly, a thin tear trickling down his bloody cheek, whispering,”Give me that man

That is not pbumion’s slave, and I will wear him

In my heart’s core.”

Inconnu Posted:

...and I immediately woke up, terrified with the astounding gayness of the scene that followed.

Then I did a barrel roll, and fell off my bed.

Inconnu Posted:

...and immediately stumbled upon a dead whore under my bed.

The aroma of her rotting girl-flesh, combined with the degraded texture of her milky-white skin, which every instinct in my body told me I should be revolted by… made me irresistably horny; I lusted for her.

Inconnu Posted:

Unfortunately, her rotten flesh couldn’t withhold my strike and immediately ripped into pieces, thus making the oh-so-flavorful necrophiliac scene impossible to render.

I began to clean her up, a grim look on my face from the inherent nervousness that comes with cleaning up after an aids-ridden whore.