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for Where do babies REALLY come from?

7/22/2014 c5 Guest
Ok when Nigel was talking about milk supply I gave my self a facepalm and died of laughter xD
11/28/2011 c6 1Raven Black The Marauderette
This story made me die laughing *ghost typing*
6/18/2008 c6 17ungmin
What a funny and sweet story! To think, Hoagie, Wally and Kuki would concoct a devious plan to get them together and it worked! Nice one!
11/25/2007 c1 2vinden
lol ^^

Funny and cute.
10/11/2007 c6 Stephanie120
The first few chapters made me laugh.:D
7/20/2007 c6 crayfishy
Oh, great! I always loved 1/5 confessions in FanFictions ;)
7/17/2007 c6 CoinOperatedWritter
Lol. hehehe, it made me laugh a lot. Not all the stories can do that. XP this is a pretty cool one. Keep the cool work up, k?

Oh... is that all? xDD
7/16/2007 c1 9Mushawuff
*nods head* yup they're just playing a trick cuz they're...they're um, michievous?
7/16/2007 c5 15Cyrix
Wait, soo is this a trick or something? I am kinda confused now. Does Wally, Kuki and Hoagie really know where babies come from? Or are they just pretending so Nigel will admit to Abby he loves her?
7/12/2007 c3 41Super Reader
ok... weird but kinda funny. :)
7/12/2007 c3 15Cyrix
LOL, those kids don't really understand where babies come from! Funny story and good job on writing it!

Oh yeah don't worry if it is only one review, you will get more soon!
7/11/2007 c2 10Evil Riggs

A vast, flat alkali desert. Heat pulses from the packed white sand in rippling waves. Overhead, the naked sun stares down in baleful judgement. The liquid horizon shimmers like molten glass. A two-lane highway, cracked and pitted with age, splits the desert in twain.

On the highway's shoulder is a single sagging cardboard box. On the box is a single perfect watermelon. On the watermelon are drops and streamers of cool moisture.

Out of the distance, a throaty roar! A thundrous clunk-a-clunk cacophony shudders from the horizon! A shape emerges triumphant from the wavering mirage!

A beatass white panel van tears down the broken highway. Its paint is peeling; its windshield is cracked; its tires are bald; its undercarriage is spotted with salt-licked patches of rust. The vehicle screams toward the watermelon and then skids to a howling stop beside it. The chugging engine cuts out with a wheezey mechanical sigh. Along the van's side door are words, spray-painted in red, looping script:

P.O.R.N. S.T.A.N.K.

The side door - and P.O.R.N. S.T.A.N.K. with it - slides open. Out of the darkness hops a gigantic man in faded jeans and a sweat-soaked tank top. His bald head glistens. His shirt bulges uncomfortably against the 'roid rage hilltops of his muscles. His tiny eyes dart to the watermelon.

He smiles.

The man reaches a treetrunk arm back into the van, revealing a shoulder tatto - MASTIFF. It returns with a heavy machine gun, dangling a glittering belt of sharp ammunition. The big man grins as he levels the weapon at the watermelon.

A moment passes. The air smells of salt and hot ashes.

He pulls the trigger. A cannonade of sound! A brilliant explosion of green and red and black!

"Ah-hahahaha! HAHAHAHAHA!" His laughter roars over the gunfire.

Disintegration! Frappe! The watermelon splatters into mush on mush, coating the blacktop and soaking into the dry hardpan. The big man continues to fire until the ammunition is gone and the highway is littered with casings. His grin twitches, he spins back around, and disappears into the hot dark of the van's belly. P.O.R.N. S.T.A.N.K. slides back into place.

The van speeds off into the distance.

~This is a rough approximation of my opinion of this story~

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