There was a hyper-realistic man. He walked a hyper-realistic mile.
He bought a hyper-realistic sixpence upon a hyper-realistic stile.
He had a hyper-realistic cat, which ate a hyper-realistic mouse.
They all lived together in a hyper-realistic house.
In hyper-realistic Ohio, he was hyper-realistically born and raised.
On the hyper-realistic playground he would spend his hyper-realistic days.
But when he fought with a hyper-realistic gang, his hyper-realistic mom got hyper-realistically scared.
He was forced to move to his hyper-realistic auntie and hyper-realistic uncle in Bel-Air.
The hyper-realistic man whistled for a hyper-realistic cab, and when it came near,
The hyper-realistic license plate said "Fresh" and had hyper-realistic dice on a hyper-realistic mirror.
Most hyper-realistic people would consider this hyper-realistic cab hyper-realistically rare.
But the hyper-realistic man said, "Forget it! Yo Holmes, to Bel-Air!"
The hyper-realistic man needed to take a hyper-realistic shit.
He opened his hyper-realistic bathroom, on his hyper-realistic toilet he would sit.
He was about to drop a hyper-realistic deuce, but he heard a hyper-realistic shout.
And then a hyper-realistic skeleton popped out.