This story is completely true, fuck you if you don't believe. May the Flying Spaghetti Monster throw pasta in your face.
Once upon a time, I was taking a
shower, singing Linkin Park. But then I noticed there was a motherfucking centipede in my motherfucking shower. I shat everywhere, and ran out, still naked. I slammed the door, had a heart attack, and died.
When I woke up from my death because plot, I thought to myself, “What was I doing? Oh, right.” So I ran into my sunroom, grabbed my rocket launcher, and stormed into the bathroom. The centipede was nowhere to be seen. I paced anxiously. And then the motherfucking centipede jumped on my motherfucking face. I screamed, flailed, and shot my rocket launcher by accident. It blew a huge hole in the wall, but I didn't notice because there was a motherfucking centipede on my motherfucking face. I fell through the hole in my wall into my backyard swimming pool. Once I surfaced, I began to calm. I fell in the pool, so the centipede must have drowned, right?
Wrong. By the massive hole in the wall, the centipede sat mockingly. So I grabbed my sniper rifle I keep by the pool and made an attempt to fire at the centipede. I missed and shot my best friend who was standing there by mistake, and the sniper rifle blew up for no reason. But I didn't care because there was a motherfucking centipede in my motherfucking house.
I ran down the block and pounded on my neighbor's door.
“Help! Help!” I pleaded.
“We have a doorbell, asshole!” was the response.
But I didn't care because there was a motherfucking centipede in my motherfucking house. I busted the door down, and inside there was a lady, in her 30's, eating spaghetti. She made a face of anger and disgust and threw a handful of spaghetti at my face. But I didn't care because there was a motherfucking centipede in my motherfucking house and I needed to use her phone.
“I need to call 911!” I yelled.
I grabbed her phone and dialed that magical number.
“911, what's your emergency?”
“There is a motherfucking centipede
in my motherfucking shower!”
“Oh shit, we'll call the S.W.A.T. Team at once!”
I hung up and 3 seconds later the S.W.A.T. showed up at my house. I lead them into my bathroom and they charged in. I heard gunfire and screaming before they stormed out, yelling and crying.
“What happened?” I queried.
“There are TWO motherfucking centipedes in that motherfucking shower!” was the team captain's exasperated response.
This made me cry and scream like a little bitch and I begged them to do something. They told me I was on my own and they drove off. Assholes. I ran inside, picked up the phone, and dialed the one last man who could help. Our lord and savior.
Donald Trump.
“Hello, Mr. Trump.”
“Hey. Who is this?”
“My name is not important. What is important is that there is a motherfucking centipede in my motherfucking house. Please send nukes.”
“Ok, under one condition. To pay for nuclear warhead bills (that's a thing I guess), give me a small loan of a million dollars.”
“I'll see.” I said.
I needed to think. Where could I find a million dollars? I then remembered that I had a safe with a million bucks in it. Where did I put it again?
Oh. Right. In the fucking shower. I stormed in the bathroom and grabbed the safe. The motherfucking
centipedes began to chase me, so once I had got outside, I threw the safe at them. It missed, the safe blew up, and my money blew in the wind. The asshole neighbors stormed outside and almost fucking
trampled me as they ran after the money.
Well, shit. There goes my money. I needed to come up with something to get Trump to kill the centipedes. Then the idea hit me. I picked up the phone, and called Trump.
“Trump, I'm mistaken. They are not centipedes.”
“If they're not centipedes, then what are they?” Trumped growled impatiently.
My reply was simple. “Immigrants.”
“WHAT?!? WHAT?!? WHAT?!?”
The call ended. About 1 millisecond later, Trump showed up and had the centipedes deported to fucking Antarctica, where it is fucking cold and they will fucking die. I moved to Poland to be safe however, as nothing bad ever happens in Poland.
So, in Poland, I was taking a shower, singing Slipknot. To my dismay, there was a Goddamned Cockroach in the shower.