I begin today a series of stories based on the paranormal world. These stories will be seasoned with scatological and freak touch that characterizes me. Here goes the first few events that poisoned the dreams of the protagonists in many legislatures.
Pressure Cooker ...
Sometimes, people will die not leave the world. They live in the world of the living until they get bored of seeing the ject and go to another place more tropical. This type of dead star are the typical appearances of tuberculosis hospitals and old castles that you shit. History tells us today that one of these appearances:
was a day in her house at night, the illustrious Don Mariano Rajoy. Were available, as every night, to make the body in the potty who years before Acebes gave an invisible friend. Everything was as usual, while his right hand clung tightly to the towel, the left passing leaves an old newspaper (El Pais). Due to the cold of November and the effort, Don Mariano started hurting her back. And willing to get up and wipe my ass, Mr. Rajoy snorted loudly and stood up. At first he felt the typical slut gives you when you awake, so I waited for it to happen. Wait a minute, two minutes, but the Wall continued. I was in a state of pseudohipnósis, that's when he saw him. Opposite him, a man (if you can call it that), crippled in one leg, holding the sad weight of his body with crutches, wearing a leather jacket and a scar across his Deleting face by defective. The man looked at him with an anger that was only proper to the world of the dead and immediately broke the bathroom mirror with one of his crutches, causing a crash of glass that warned all the bodyguards. Don Mariano, still shaking from the horrible appearance, pulled up his pants and ordered to pack the whole family and go to spend the night at party headquarters. The next day security protection granted by the light of day, Mr. Rajoy returned home accompanied by Eduardo Zaplana, an expert on everything related to the paranormal world and well versed in the dark art of parasubnormal. Don Eduardo, entered the house protected by his exultant tan, he said, protected him from the ghosts that gave him the appearance of one of them. Don Mariano was following behind, grabbed his jacket from Armani, as the chief cheerleader. At that time, Mr. Zaplana felt a very strong energy coming from the bathroom, they approached cautiously and there found the source of that energy was the awesome shit Mr Rajoy. After stooping to contemplate and investigate truño glass breaking last night, both joined as did Don Mariano, and in doing so both felt the same slut Don Mariano felt. Clouds of steam of a pressure cooker that was there and no one had seen it coming, materialized again the image of that cripple who said in a voice that seemed a thousand voices at once:
- I am the Lame Manteca, and I'm going to fuck but well.
Don Mariano and Don Eduardo, squatting with her ass on ridiculously pump so that their bodies were ninety-degree angles, could not move. The figure of Cojo moved among them with ease unbecoming a lot less lame and dead. Mr. Manteca, stood behind the other two men and introduced them in the ass a crutch to each, a split second later, his image as well as the smoke vanished and the pressure cooker. Mr. Zaplana and Mr. Rajoy stood there, crouched in front of a urinal triumphant showing a great shit. Both took the hand to the ass in unison, checking that there were no artifacts introduced into the rectum. When erected again proved that they were both pretty good. They left in silence and left the house without saying a word. A couple of months later Mr. Rajoy sold the house and went to live in Moral (for example). No one knew of the incident but he and Mr. Zaplana that even now throws looks of shame and complicity in those events they do.
Pressure Cooker ...
Sometimes, people will die not leave the world. They live in the world of the living until they get bored of seeing the ject and go to another place more tropical. This type of dead star are the typical appearances of tuberculosis hospitals and old castles that you shit. History tells us today that one of these appearances:
was a day in her house at night, the illustrious Don Mariano Rajoy. Were available, as every night, to make the body in the potty who years before Acebes gave an invisible friend. Everything was as usual, while his right hand clung tightly to the towel, the left passing leaves an old newspaper (El Pais). Due to the cold of November and the effort, Don Mariano started hurting her back. And willing to get up and wipe my ass, Mr. Rajoy snorted loudly and stood up. At first he felt the typical slut gives you when you awake, so I waited for it to happen. Wait a minute, two minutes, but the Wall continued. I was in a state of pseudohipnósis, that's when he saw him. Opposite him, a man (if you can call it that), crippled in one leg, holding the sad weight of his body with crutches, wearing a leather jacket and a scar across his Deleting face by defective. The man looked at him with an anger that was only proper to the world of the dead and immediately broke the bathroom mirror with one of his crutches, causing a crash of glass that warned all the bodyguards. Don Mariano, still shaking from the horrible appearance, pulled up his pants and ordered to pack the whole family and go to spend the night at party headquarters. The next day security protection granted by the light of day, Mr. Rajoy returned home accompanied by Eduardo Zaplana, an expert on everything related to the paranormal world and well versed in the dark art of parasubnormal. Don Eduardo, entered the house protected by his exultant tan, he said, protected him from the ghosts that gave him the appearance of one of them. Don Mariano was following behind, grabbed his jacket from Armani, as the chief cheerleader. At that time, Mr. Zaplana felt a very strong energy coming from the bathroom, they approached cautiously and there found the source of that energy was the awesome shit Mr Rajoy. After stooping to contemplate and investigate truño glass breaking last night, both joined as did Don Mariano, and in doing so both felt the same slut Don Mariano felt. Clouds of steam of a pressure cooker that was there and no one had seen it coming, materialized again the image of that cripple who said in a voice that seemed a thousand voices at once:
- I am the Lame Manteca, and I'm going to fuck but well.
Don Mariano and Don Eduardo, squatting with her ass on ridiculously pump so that their bodies were ninety-degree angles, could not move. The figure of Cojo moved among them with ease unbecoming a lot less lame and dead. Mr. Manteca, stood behind the other two men and introduced them in the ass a crutch to each, a split second later, his image as well as the smoke vanished and the pressure cooker. Mr. Zaplana and Mr. Rajoy stood there, crouched in front of a urinal triumphant showing a great shit. Both took the hand to the ass in unison, checking that there were no artifacts introduced into the rectum. When erected again proved that they were both pretty good. They left in silence and left the house without saying a word. A couple of months later Mr. Rajoy sold the house and went to live in Moral (for example). No one knew of the incident but he and Mr. Zaplana that even now throws looks of shame and complicity in those events they do.
I wish I
