The Story of Garfield and JohannEdit
Once upon a time, there lay an abomination sanctioned by Satan known simply as Garfield. Garfield was forged within the forges and anvils of Svaltirhierm, his frame formed from the prostate of Gluttony (a patron of Evil). It knew only of itself and its primordial desires and urges. A being of pure greed and sin. After he was cursed out of Asgard; he was thrown into the streets of Jew York, and was hit and torn by the cars like the discarded, overly-loved jizz rag that he was.
Johann Corneleus Butt-Fuckicus Arbuckle was an obstreperous corpuscle of a man. Hardened from 20 years of intense sexual abuse from his mother; he sought only to bring pain upon the innocent. He saw Garfield as the perfect instrument to do so. After dismantling an infant infront of its parents: Arfuckel decided to glut himself on the organs of the Mexicans whom lay splattered across the asphalt like a fucking Rorschach test. Arbuckle wanted the genitals (his favourite part) so he can make a blood, onion, and cum stew of unfathomable awful. Instead, amongst a pile of stripped bodies, stood Garfield of Cooridith, feasting on a young child’s brain. He looked deep into Arbuckles soulless soul, and found nothing. Nothing but a capacity for intense, unprovoked malice and hate. Garfield stood, willy-wongo erect. “Lasagna!” he bellowed. Arbuckle fainted at the sheer majesty of this fucking fag-burger; he fainted, wimbo-wiiky double-erect. Barfield, without hesitation, proceeded to suck his cock for 10 years. artfucker finally awoke, unroabed and raped, to the sight of a behemoth of a cat (tentative) (citation needed) it gazed at his man-marbles, its foobly stare sucking absolute shit form a most-definite straw. The destructive duo returned to Artfulcorpuscles abode: a crack in the hull of a sunken paper-boat. Garfield consumed several niggers in order to fuel the hate-engine, which burnt with a glory rivalling the sun; Garfield needs hate to survive. Jon wanted to fuck the corpse of his dead whore (whom mind you never was paid) known as Sue. Sue may very well have been a living, yet brain-dead, whore. However, this resides in the realm of UNscholarly masterdebation. Regardless, Garfield (now spelt as Gorefest of Gothmog) fornicated with her till it double-died. After a night of ultraviolence, drugs, and pasta: Arbuckle and Gothgore scuttled back to their wretched den. The very next day: a child spawned forth from the rotten, rat-infested womb of Sue. The Cult of Garfield (Garfield’s cult) held a weeks-long celebration in preparation for the reveal of the ungodly entity. The festivities included: the removal of your first born’s hands (they are to be fed to Garfield), feats! -to be given to Garfield, thou dost not want to incur his wrath, and praying to Gorbinger. Garfield gorged himself to an unholy extent on lasagna, lasagna made from the remains of orphans. Twas time for the revealment; all the lights in Garfield’s citadel were extinguished. Garfields many slaves stood, awe radiating from the sockets where the eyes once abode; Jon sank his splooge-y hands into the depths of Sue’s cavernous uterus. It tugged, it shrugged, and then the ‘child’ was free. To Jon’s horror, it was not his child! But the spawn of Garfield! It was a horrifically malformed Hobbit, with clumps of sickly, orange fur protruding from its skin… like puss from a horrid sore. Jon swiftly exterminated the entity, and cast it into Garfields toxic pool of organs and lasagna! Jon was then turned into stone… none may obliterate a spawn of Gorebinski.
16 years later:
Jon: “Garfield, where dost thine lasagna dwell; where art thine lasagna?”
Garfield: “Jon pls. Me eeeeeeeeet~”
Jones “Fuck you! Where’s the fucking lasagna, you menstral blood-stuffed abomination?!”
Jon: “I hope you motherfucking die! Go back to Hell from once you came, nigger! ‘Throws oven at Garfbag’ Make your own manflesh lasagna, you titanic cunt!”
Gorfdorf: “Jam ur meenee words gave me ass-cancer”
‘Garfcompetence’s anus started to bleed profusely’
Garfield lay dead; drenched in a puddle of blood, feces, and his pasta-sauce. Jon stood for five years, in utmost shock at Garfield’s fantastic death. However, they were all deceived. Garfield wasn’t dead, moreover, he was slowly dying a horrible death. His pain too great to be verbalised, forever in unspeakable pain. Jon, after a vehement masterbation, decided to twist off Gorefasts 12 nipples: drinking the nectar lactation in its purest form.
“Tis time to award you with a Hero’s death, my love,” Quothed Jon. He grabbed the blubbery, filthy fuckbucket and hurled him out the condominium. Garfield fell for days, until his filthy cadaver collided into a dumpster… well… more so the edge of a dumpster. Thus why his guts burst forth like a true, honest, and hardworking septic tank. Garfield was merely a lazy, piece-of-shit septic tank. The hitlerific concoction of guts, lasagna, and super glue showered Odius (Garfield’s central concubine). A smile ripped Garfields face in half, for this gave him a massive orgasm. Jon then slit his throat with a rusty can-opener. His head collided with Nurmbulls, breaking her back resulting in horrendous ugliness. She was later exiled from the care of her owner. And died being raped by Xzibit. The two lovers (Gothmog the Accursed and Jon Obituary) were united with their anuses penetrated by Satan’s firepokers in Hell. Untill they were neutered by Jimz. Thus why you should never name yourself after Garfield or his obese in Pyroland.