You are so ready. Honestly, today represents an important date in Troll history. You're really not sure where your long-distance pal resides, exactly, but you're sure it's a doozy of a distance! What's remarkable about this distance, beyond its stupefying magnitude, is how often you have observed this far-off friend emitting Trollisms.
For every cultural gaff she committed, there was a boy howdy. Each bizarre movie title was accompanied by a shucks buster. As often as she mentioned a strained, simplified, single-quadrant romantic theory, she lets loose a tarnation. You simply had to know more about this linguistic migration!
Your excitement would have gotten you in some real trouble if it weren't for the very excellent technology available to your friend. She was apparently some sort of heir.
The journey was smooth and pleasant, and quickly juxtaposed by the terrible tumble you take once it was complete. In your haste you forgot that you lack all necessary skills involved in this endeavor and the result was a completely inaccurate jaunt. You reached out for some kind of handhold. Your voice didn't come out, obviously due to your intense levels of bravery and not at all because the wind being viscerally wrest from within your lungs.
"Where in blazes is it?" She demanded, not noticing that you had caught yourself on the lip of her loose shirt.
"This would be a lot easier if I had been informed of what was being sent, dang it!" She stomped her foot, shaking her body a little and you a lot.
She seemed to notice your wild flailings and desperate pleas because she looked down at that moment and you lost your second wind to her breathtaking hugeness. She seemed equally taken aback and stepped backwards, as if it might somehow prove your stature to be merely an illusion.
"JUMPING JEHOSHAPHAT!"
She lost balance at the realization that a tiny person was perched against her bosom, twisted her ankle andbegan to fall over. Your eyes tremble in fear as the behemoth you were clinging to toppled forward, inescapably careening into your weak squishy form. Her great, big globes came crashing down on you, laying you flat and mashing you into a whimpering paste. You could swear that you had reached the apex of pain. And then she got up.
Her heaving chest moved again and she stirred from her prone position, battering your already mangled body. But even her shift in position was no release as you stuck to her shirt, twitching and feeling the subtle movements of the fabric through your thinned-out limbs.
Copyright 2000 - 2024 21 x 20 Media All rights reserved. This site is property of 21 x 20 Media
All Writing.Com images are copyrighted and may not be copied / modified in any way. All other brand names & trademarks are owned by their respective companies.
Generated in 0.11 seconds at 5:38am on Dec 23, 2024 via server WEBX2.
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
More by this author
