I regret to inform you, but this wonderful Thanksgiving has been entirely more chilling than the weather might've lead you to believe. I was taking an early morning drive through York when I noticed a '70 Mustang, it was blue with a Mach 1 hood, it seemed strangely different from the changing fall leaves about the area. Really though, Toronto, leaves, those two don't go together very well! It was in a driveway, black tarmac, it seemed to blend in perfectly with the old, cracked sidewalls of the tires. The house at the end of this black lane was made of brick. Imagine, how many thousands of years we have used stone, be it for a morbid burial mound, or our mightiest palaces, stone has been our refuge for many thousands of years. Our shelter, our sanctuary.

This harsh steel creation, it seemed to reflect the very pearlescentness of the sky itself. From times of adolescene we have adored them, these roaring beasts, these chariots of the road, these combustion powered monstrosities. Its curves resemble a great stallion,


with every fold of it's ferrous hide readied for a sudden burst of power, of speed, of humbled greatness. With the endurance of a wolf, and the speed of a cheetah, this mighty canine-feline hybrid pounced towards my jugular, and rended the very flesh from my throat.

What was there to do? There I lay, dying, with this mechanical contraption standing above me, it's vulcanized feet revolving with fury. Suddenly a dinosaur

came out of nowhere and charged this monstrosity. Their bodies bent, their claws and spikes were flailing to-and-fro. A great battle was raged upon this blackened ground, the blood staining the hallowed road.

To this day, I cannot recall exactly how I survived this engagement between the two greatest beings ever to inhabit this world.

Pit, I beseech thee, how did I survive?
Last edited by Grindar at Oct 12, 2009,

I is confused.
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Nightmare thread?
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Out on parole, any more instances of plum text and I get put back in...