Mice From Outer Space

Close up through my pteroscope. I can see the our strain and an o' waiting for my next pterotail. This is the big warning if you ain't heard about him yet. Watch out. The ghost mice is coming.

Yes, they're coming. The ghost mice from outer space. Hahaha. Oh, yes, about a thousand years ago. The Red Demon farms were the fire ghosts on the Flamin' Planet Thorm. In a far heavens was overrun with the venomous little beasties.

They come up out of the bowels of the Thorm. Millions of them, clone and gnarne, and are scampering up out of the caverns and the craters. They started to eat, they ate everything inside here, they ate the scrumpts, the squilligens of the fire ghosts, and they ate up all the diffy brows and fine flames.

They roost amidst the tall molds on the banks of the puddling glutes. They even let their way into the ashiglum, where the plain gnomes of my day eat. Oh, and nothing stuffed, nothing, then nothing could fill them up or satisfy their hunger, cause everything they eat turned into nothing.

Oh, terrible. Then one day old, more blocked with a high priest with a flame tome, and his Presidium, a waving green canotoles, held a meeting and decided to send the bitter plague of mice down to eat us mortals off the earth.

Yes, they lured all the grown herbs of Ghost Mice into big litter and space wagons and blasted them, spinning out into space, warming down toward the earth. and they've been blasted in morph It's nasty cargo, horse, w and squiggin' out all the land.

It was delightful. It is, it's shite-y. Of course the first thing they did was to kick the farmer. Yeah. They ate the farmer. Yes. They ran at him. And ate him. Oh. Oh. Yes. They ate him up viciously and left him a stand in their tooth clean, a skeleton and rags.