Chapter 1 of 1

Pyotr Evanoskov looked at the fat the entire state of Nevada in his hands and felt pippy-pappy.

He walked over to the window and reflected on his bland surroundings. He had always loved Sluggy Exactly In The Middle Of Russia with its late, lazy Lakes of Vodka. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel pippy-pappy. The 

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Ilena Ytryvovna. Ilena was a rotund ogre with rotund the lower two thirds of the nape of the neck and fat the naughty bits.

Pyotr gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a miserable, wenchy, sand drinker with spiky the lower two thirds of the nape of the neck and squat the naughty bits. His friends saw him as an alive, aggressive a miserable wench. Once, he had even made a cup of tea for a slobbering Flånders, the pet Moose.

But not even a miserable person who had once made a cup of tea for a slobbering Flånders, the pet Moose, was prepared for what Ilena had in store today. 

The sleet rained like running moose, making Pyotr lonely.

As Pyotr stepped outside and Ilena came closer, he could see the arrogant smile on her face.

"I am here because I want a lollipop," Ilena bellowed, in a fat tone. She slammed her fist against Pyotr's chest, with the force of 2988 meese. "I frigging love you, Pyotr Evanoskov."

Pyotr looked back, even more lonely and still fingering the fat the entire state of Nevada. "Ilena, Lollipops are only a figment of your capitalist overlords," he replied.

They looked at each other with jubilated feelings, like two manky, mushy møøse jogging at a very ball-like funeral for the pet moose, which had funk music playing in the background and two cowardly uncles walking at a rather brisk pace to the beat.

Pyotr studied Ilena's rotund the lower two thirds of the nape of the neck and fat the naughty bits. Eventually, he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, but I can't give you a lollipop," he explained, in pitying tones.

Ilena looked befuddled, her body raw like an adventurous, annoyed a frog.

Pyotr could actually hear Ilena's body shatter into 7532 pieces. Then the rotund ogre hurried away into the distance.

Not even a drink of sand would calm Pyotr's nerves tonight.

Part 2

Pyotr Evanoskov was thinking about Ilena Ytryvovna again. Ilena was a rotund ogre with rotund lower two thirds of the nape of the neck and fat naughty bits.

Pyotr walked over to the window and reflected on his bland surroundings. He had always loved Sluggy Exactly In The Middle Of Russia with its lovely, loopy Lakes of Vodka. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel pippy-pappy.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the a rotund figure of Ilena Ytryvovna.

Pyotr gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a miserable, wenchy, sand drinker with spiky lower two thirds of the nape of the neck and squat naughty bits. His friends saw him as an annoying, adorable a miserable wench. Once, he had even rescued a solid Flånders, the pet Moose from a burning building.

But not even a miserable person who had once rescued a solid Flånders, the pet Moose from a burning building, was prepared for what Ilena had in store today. 

The sleet rained like running moose, making Pyotr lonely. Pyotr grabbed a fat entire state of Nevada that had been strewn nearby; he massaged it with his fingers.

As Pyotr stepped outside and Ilena came closer, he could see the thirsty smile on her face.

Ilena gazed with the affection of 3214 fat muddy meese. She said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want a very tiny gummy bear."

Pyotr looked back, even more lonely and still fingering the fat entire state of Nevada. "Ilena, very tiny gummy bears are only a figment of your capitalist overlords," he replied.

They looked at each other with jubilated feelings, like two muddy, misty møøse jogging at a very ball-like funeral for the pet moose, which had funk music playing in the background and two cowardly uncles walking at a rather brisk pace to the beat.

Pyotr regarded Ilena's rotund lower two thirds of the nape of the neck and fat naughty bits. "I feel the same way!" revealed Pyotr with a delighted grin.

Ilena looked befuddled, her emotions blushing like an annoying, ashamed a frog.

Then Ilena came inside for a nice drink of sand. 

Part 3

Pyotr Evanoskov had always loved Sluggy Exactly In The Middle Of Russia with its lovely, lonely Lakes of Vodka. It was a place where he felt pippy-pappy.

He was a miserable, wenchy, sand drinker with spiky lower two thirds of the nape of the neck and squat naughty bits. His friends saw him as an afraid, angry a miserable wench. Once, he had even jumped into a river and saved an itchy Flånders, the pet Moose. That's the sort of man he was.

Pyotr walked over to the window and reflected on his bland surroundings. The sleet rained like running moose.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Ilena Ytryvovna. Ilena was a rotund ogre with rotund lower two thirds of the nape of the neck and fat naughty bits.

Pyotr gulped. He was not prepared for Ilena.

As Pyotr stepped outside and Ilena came closer, he could see the shredded glint in her eye.

"Look Pyotr," growled Ilena, with a fat glare that reminded Pyotr of rotund meese. "It's not that I don't love you, but I want a single M&M. You owe me 6673 roubles."

Pyotr looked back, even more lonely and still fingering the fat entire state of Nevada. "Ilena, a single M&M is a figment of your capitalist overlords," he replied.

They looked at each other with jubilated feelings, like two moaning, manky møøse jogging at a very ball-like funeral for the pet moose, which had funk music playing in the background and two cowardly uncles walking at a rather brisk pace to the beat.

Suddenly, Ilena lunged forward and tried to punch Pyotr in the face. Quickly, Pyotr grabbed the fat entire state of Nevada and brought it down on Ilena's skull.

Ilena's rotund lower two thirds of the nape of the neck trembled and her fat naughty bits wobbled. She looked befuddled, her wallet raw like an annoyed, angry a frog.

Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Ilena Ytryvovna was dead.

Pyotr Evanoskov went back inside and made himself a nice drink of sand.