It staggered into the forum, its face blue, its fingers grasping at its neck as if choking, its legs wobbly and unsure. Its crutches bend dangerously with each step it takes and finally they snap, allowing the huge misfit to fall on the floor, grasping its chest and moaning in pain. A few more breathes and it dies before their eyes. The members of the forum look at each other inquisitively. Why does the sofa blimp keep creating these half dead comebacks that fall flat on their face the moment they’re posted? Surely he can do better than this. Then again, maybe it’s the best he can do given his serious mental and academic limitations.<quoted text>
What the temp in your imaginary world? Pathetic white trash...
C'mon boy, give me 500 words.
Still not making the grade fatty!