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Plot Generator

Depraved Paris
A Short Story
by Gerdzorldo
Zelda Link was thinking about Mothra again. Mothra was a thoughtless godess with charming ovipositor and moist legs.
Zelda walked over to the window and reflected on his astral surroundings. He had always loved depraved Paris with its brawny, boiling burning ruins. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel fuzzy.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the a thoughtless figure of Mothra .
Zelda gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a greedy, homicidal, blue potion drinker with greasy ovipositor and fat legs. His friends saw him as a large, loud legendary hero. Once, he had even brought a tricky Shobijin back from the brink of death.
But not even a greedy person who had once brought a tricky Shobijin back from the brink of death, was prepared for what Mothra had in store today.
The meteor shower teased like cooking cats, making Zelda manic. Zelda grabbed an explosive kettle that had been strewn nearby; he massaged it with his fingers.
As Zelda stepped outside and Mothra came closer, he could see the doubtful glint in her eye.
Mothra gazed with the affection of 9952 generous sweaty skeleturtles. She said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want a kiss."
Zelda looked back, even more manic and still fingering the explosive kettle. "Mothra, I just don't need you in my life any more," he replied.
They looked at each other with concerned feelings, like two pleasant, putrid puppies rampaging at a very funny Wedding, which had vuvuzela music playing in the background and two unintelligent uncles weeping to the beat.
Suddenly, Mothra lunged forward and tried to punch Zelda in the face. Quickly, Zelda grabbed the explosive kettle and brought it down on Mothra's skull.
Mothra's charming ovipositor trembled and her moist legs wobbled. She looked calm, her emotions raw like a motionless, mute map.
Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Mothra was dead.
Zelda Link went back inside and made himself a nice drink of blue potion.
THE ENDAuto Praise for Depraved Paris
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