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"What's it gonna be then, eh?"
There was me, that is Alex, and my droog, that is LugwigVan, LudwigVan being a digital malchick.
And I sat in the Undead Burg making up my rassoodocks what to do with the evening.
Dark Souls is a real horrorshow eegra, and you may, o my brothers, have forgotten what horrorshow eegras are like, things changing so skorry these days and everybody very quick to forget, NES not being played much neither.
After oobivatting some real gloopy chassos, I goolied across a rampart between two towers. Then the ground started cracking like atomics, and I slooshied this clop-clop-clopping. What your humble narrator did viddy next was this real strack scoteena, all ready to jammiwam his shlaga on my gulliver. And jammiwam he did — so skorry, my guttiwuts colored the stones.
I came back to the bonfire with my rot all squaring up for a boohoohoo. But then I skazatted to myself, "Alex, you were not put on this earth just to platch like a malenky ptitsa." So I gathered up my sharries and ittied back for another drat.
Having a brilliant messel, I did what any moodge with half a mozg would do, I ran underneath his giant yarbles. Not for a bit of the in-out-in-out, but because only a really dim orange would tolchuck his own yarbles. So, my brothers, this did become a real dobby mesto to let the krovvy flow.
After I finished shiving this grahzny bratchny, I viddied a door and decided to ookadeet. I gavoreeted with this real nadmenny shoot, all covered in metal and such, before a bridge caught my glazz.
With a guff, I goolied to the bridge to see where it might privodeet. The last thing I did viddy, my dear droogs, was giant zoobies before the fire plesked all over my dear LudwigVan.
Appypolly loggies, o my brothers. It's time for Uncle Alex to grab a bit of spatchka before he tolchucks his controller real horrorshow-like. I'll filly again tomorrow.
Special thanks to Samir for the first image.
If you're totally lost with this story (or you just need to brush-up on your Nadsat), here's a dictionary for you.