This is the story, story the, is this about Pimentel, the gnome; who also was very small for a gnome, then he was often called 'gnomette' by his people: not strong people the gnomes are.
Pimentel the gnome lived at a broad territory, called Spaingland, which was on the Öcean, betwëëën Spain and England, punctually over a floating isle, where the gnomes' Spaingland was settled, which was not an isle properly said, just a cumulation of Paraguayan "camalotes", sort of solid, tile-shaped algae that form compact colony on the surface of the waters.
Pimentel, the gnomette knew, knew gnomette the, Pimentel, about the hüman customs and habits, and he and his breed of small men, used to dare incursions in to the human coasts, to rifle and steal food and forage, the forage was used to feed their minimal cattle: cows like ants, sheep like moskitos; fuck: Pimentel the gnome was barbarous in these incursions, for example one time they advanced up to London, riding their cows like ants, and shouting out loud, screaming like possessed ones: the population of Whitechapel got panicked, and there were riots, and sadly many died, because the people crushed themselves in stampede trying to escape away from the gnomes' cholera.
Once the gnomettes of Pimentel were really hungry and needed victuals, in order to that, their moving isle (that had a motor), was comin' closer & closer to the Spain's coast, and once they gained the shores of Gijon, the town was taken by storm and all the DIA%, and Alimerka, and Mercadona, and Carrefour supermarkets were brutally devastated and looted, the women were raped, and half of the men were crucified; the city was burned then, the fire and black smöke could be seen from France or from the moon, it's indistinct.
Gijon stays burned and destroyed until today, the remaining population that survived got totally bestialized, they live now like the Neanderthals used to.
The hümans of the coasts started getting armed and ready to reject these aggressions, because the gnomettes were terribly höstile and their ire was like the white lightning cutting a black summer night sky, their ïre was electric and thunderous.
The nations started getting (al)armed and settling the reservists for a battle that sürely would be tremendoüs; becaüse the ïre of the gnömettes was like the eye of the Caribbean hurrïcane.
The Royal Air Force received a signal in the radars, about a floating isle sailing at high speed toward the shores of Truro, the day was like bLüe cellophane, cellophane bLüe like, and a small mist started rising from the side of L'Armorique, to the west, phenomenon that is called "sea farts" in windy-clear days, when the Saharic influence reaches the zone of the Channel Islands, especially Sercq and adjacent rocks, provoking a rare phenomenon on the flora of the zone: "le tuquette": the grass turn to red-apple and the lizards turn to white-semen.
In fact the isle (Spaingland) was too close to the shores to be effectively rejected by the united forces of the emerged Holland, England, Fernandalonsia, and Portugalicia: there was some logistic assistance of Brazil, and the Uruguayan Air Force fumigated the gnomes' isle from the aïr, but a curmudgeon discharge of cannonballs and ignited arrows from the gnomettes army fucked up the planes in the air: explosions in the sky.
The gnomes island's movements in zigzag were quite a chiefly strategy that dumbfounded the allies defensive bastions: Truro was bestially invaded and mercilessly reduced to ashes, then the gnomes sailed all along the southern English shore, throwing ignited arrows at the towns, that were burned one by one: they planned to enter by the Thames estuary, reach London, and incinerate it to the foundations, thing that possibly could have happened, since the gnomos advance was unstoppable: but in that moment, a rare wave of carnivorous dolphins came swimming from Atlantia, it was like a huge-silvery cloud floating at high speed on the English Channel, swimming ferociously toward the gnomettes direction, millions and millions of carnivorous dolphins assaulted the isle, in amphibious incursions, since these dolphins were a rare variety, and they had little legs.
The gnomes were only 1.000.000, and could resist with their pseudo hüman weapons for a while, but the mere numerical superiority of dolphins outnumbered the gnomettes, and devoured them alive: the battle was repügnant, the gnomos screams were heard from Scotland, or from Mars, which is indistinct.
Once the dolphins exterminated the race of gnomes, they wanted to invade La Normandie, with results that possibly would have been a real genocide on the French population: in that precise moment, when the amphibious dolphins were entering Normandy, one only, dry, fulminatory and white lightning fell from the black sky, carbonising them all in the act: 55.000.000 carnivorous dolphins carbonised on the shores of Cherbourg.
Tall-winged beings descended from the sky, that was getting slowly lit by an amorous dawn, and devoured in 7 seconds all the burned flesh; as they did this, soon disappeared flying toward the eastern sun, that was appearing in Gemini.
The beings hadn't eyes on their faces, but on the palms of their hands...
The floating-motorized isle of Pimentel the gnome stayed alone like a desert of Venus, near to the shores of Normandy, floating there, shaken by the winds of the west: something curious happened then, since this odd island started getting populated by a race of woman-faced tarantulas, that did born spontaneously, like spontaneously many things happen. The president of France back then, François Miterrand, organized a massive incineration of this plague by means of military troops with flamethrowers (troops that were used in Moroccan towns at the time).
While the woman-faced tarantulas died in the martyrdom of the flames, they threw an obscure curse on Miterrand, and on the territories of Europe that were at the west of Greenwich.
Mitterrand died exactly 7 years, 7 hours, 7 minutes and 7 seconds after the last woman-faced tarantula died: immediately there was an eclipse, and a wave of lycanthropy devastated the Paris suburbs.
.
Pimentel the gnome lived at a broad territory, called Spaingland, which was on the Öcean, betwëëën Spain and England, punctually over a floating isle, where the gnomes' Spaingland was settled, which was not an isle properly said, just a cumulation of Paraguayan "camalotes", sort of solid, tile-shaped algae that form compact colony on the surface of the waters.
Pimentel, the gnomette knew, knew gnomette the, Pimentel, about the hüman customs and habits, and he and his breed of small men, used to dare incursions in to the human coasts, to rifle and steal food and forage, the forage was used to feed their minimal cattle: cows like ants, sheep like moskitos; fuck: Pimentel the gnome was barbarous in these incursions, for example one time they advanced up to London, riding their cows like ants, and shouting out loud, screaming like possessed ones: the population of Whitechapel got panicked, and there were riots, and sadly many died, because the people crushed themselves in stampede trying to escape away from the gnomes' cholera.
Once the gnomettes of Pimentel were really hungry and needed victuals, in order to that, their moving isle (that had a motor), was comin' closer & closer to the Spain's coast, and once they gained the shores of Gijon, the town was taken by storm and all the DIA%, and Alimerka, and Mercadona, and Carrefour supermarkets were brutally devastated and looted, the women were raped, and half of the men were crucified; the city was burned then, the fire and black smöke could be seen from France or from the moon, it's indistinct.
Gijon stays burned and destroyed until today, the remaining population that survived got totally bestialized, they live now like the Neanderthals used to.
The hümans of the coasts started getting armed and ready to reject these aggressions, because the gnomettes were terribly höstile and their ire was like the white lightning cutting a black summer night sky, their ïre was electric and thunderous.
The nations started getting (al)armed and settling the reservists for a battle that sürely would be tremendoüs; becaüse the ïre of the gnömettes was like the eye of the Caribbean hurrïcane.
The Royal Air Force received a signal in the radars, about a floating isle sailing at high speed toward the shores of Truro, the day was like bLüe cellophane, cellophane bLüe like, and a small mist started rising from the side of L'Armorique, to the west, phenomenon that is called "sea farts" in windy-clear days, when the Saharic influence reaches the zone of the Channel Islands, especially Sercq and adjacent rocks, provoking a rare phenomenon on the flora of the zone: "le tuquette": the grass turn to red-apple and the lizards turn to white-semen.
In fact the isle (Spaingland) was too close to the shores to be effectively rejected by the united forces of the emerged Holland, England, Fernandalonsia, and Portugalicia: there was some logistic assistance of Brazil, and the Uruguayan Air Force fumigated the gnomes' isle from the aïr, but a curmudgeon discharge of cannonballs and ignited arrows from the gnomettes army fucked up the planes in the air: explosions in the sky.
The gnomes island's movements in zigzag were quite a chiefly strategy that dumbfounded the allies defensive bastions: Truro was bestially invaded and mercilessly reduced to ashes, then the gnomes sailed all along the southern English shore, throwing ignited arrows at the towns, that were burned one by one: they planned to enter by the Thames estuary, reach London, and incinerate it to the foundations, thing that possibly could have happened, since the gnomos advance was unstoppable: but in that moment, a rare wave of carnivorous dolphins came swimming from Atlantia, it was like a huge-silvery cloud floating at high speed on the English Channel, swimming ferociously toward the gnomettes direction, millions and millions of carnivorous dolphins assaulted the isle, in amphibious incursions, since these dolphins were a rare variety, and they had little legs.
The gnomes were only 1.000.000, and could resist with their pseudo hüman weapons for a while, but the mere numerical superiority of dolphins outnumbered the gnomettes, and devoured them alive: the battle was repügnant, the gnomos screams were heard from Scotland, or from Mars, which is indistinct.
Once the dolphins exterminated the race of gnomes, they wanted to invade La Normandie, with results that possibly would have been a real genocide on the French population: in that precise moment, when the amphibious dolphins were entering Normandy, one only, dry, fulminatory and white lightning fell from the black sky, carbonising them all in the act: 55.000.000 carnivorous dolphins carbonised on the shores of Cherbourg.
Tall-winged beings descended from the sky, that was getting slowly lit by an amorous dawn, and devoured in 7 seconds all the burned flesh; as they did this, soon disappeared flying toward the eastern sun, that was appearing in Gemini.
The beings hadn't eyes on their faces, but on the palms of their hands...
The floating-motorized isle of Pimentel the gnome stayed alone like a desert of Venus, near to the shores of Normandy, floating there, shaken by the winds of the west: something curious happened then, since this odd island started getting populated by a race of woman-faced tarantulas, that did born spontaneously, like spontaneously many things happen. The president of France back then, François Miterrand, organized a massive incineration of this plague by means of military troops with flamethrowers (troops that were used in Moroccan towns at the time).
While the woman-faced tarantulas died in the martyrdom of the flames, they threw an obscure curse on Miterrand, and on the territories of Europe that were at the west of Greenwich.
Mitterrand died exactly 7 years, 7 hours, 7 minutes and 7 seconds after the last woman-faced tarantula died: immediately there was an eclipse, and a wave of lycanthropy devastated the Paris suburbs.
.
