Lord Twiggy, being a pussy like the rest of them, runs down the hill leaving chewy to casually wonder up the hill to victory.
My hill I guess
*shrugs*
If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?
the only problem is im not part of spamalot, i caused the fear, and im not a pussie like the friggen spammers. i do spam alot though or at least i used to, give it time. oh and when you get up the hill you fall off because, from lack of water, you hallucinate green pastures when there was really a sheer cliff. you fall of but catch yourself, i stomp on your fingers , you fal into a lake that has sharks with laser beams on their heads.
my non-spamalot/cheweyman hill
Back in Black 'Cause I'm back/Yes, I'm back/Well, I'm back/Yes, I'm back/Well, I'm back, back/
Well I'm back in black/Yes, I'm back in black
That's right, I'M BACK! hopefully to stay this time!
While you are busy parlying a horde of Huns descends from the nearby mountains, they burn down your camp, impale your severed heads on spikes, and ride off into the sunset with your children under their arms (these children will later be fed to wild boars as light-entertainment).
Despite our once clean hill now being somewhat messy, we claim it as:
Spamalot's Hill!
Wayne wrote:Wow, with a voice like that Dancing Mustard must get all the babes!
Garth wrote:Yeah, I bet he's totally studly and buff.
Choppity hack choppity hack choppity choppity hack.
A rogue automaton built from old strimmer-parts runs amock on the hill, it shreds you into tatters and leaves the grass beautifully cropped.
Spamalot's Hill.
Wayne wrote:Wow, with a voice like that Dancing Mustard must get all the babes!
Garth wrote:Yeah, I bet he's totally studly and buff.