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Hear the fabulous exploits of one complete reject




Harold Foundery's Humongous Ass Inc.





"...and so it came to pass that there was a day upon which he alone stood before his master, and he alone brought forth the very vestles of his own self before that of his lord. And unto him he spoke the words that had been forsaught by Efram, son of Ishat who had begat Isherisah, who did bring forth unto the world the followers of Gresial and the people of the Zamphilite valley. And those words were spoken as such

'And unto even the largest of asses I have saught refuge and scurvy. The orange mildeu mileau oft observed as the roof of a watery grave, gave way upon arrival. There will be no reprisal. You have heard the word of his servent.'

So did Elishia come to see as did Harold, the father of Foundery's nations, and the lower Wasailing lands of motionberry."

-- The Book of Humongous, 6:13

There was always something strange about Roy. At first, a mild-mannered young man with a pointy nose and ruffled glasses, upon further inspection it became appehrent that Roy was made of lesser stuff than the rest of us. Whenever the ground shook, he too began to wiggle. From his ankles to his hips, to his waist, to his belly, to his tits, to his shoulders, to his face; Everything wiggled. It was as though Roy was made of ERWTENSOEP . Odd that the strength of a pig's toe-nail might very well be the cause of Roy's shakey knees.

One day, Roy was wondering down Perrymason Blvd. in South Central Oakland, when a speeding bus ran him over. At first glance, the bus seemed to have done Roy in: sent him off with the parrot , so to speak. But to the man on the street, it was quite obvious that Roy was still alive. He was in fact, obviously in agonizing, horrible, unmitigated pain.
The area directly underneath the bus was, for the most part, occupied by Roy's gelatinous form. Unfortunately, he had retained consciousness. He screamed; quietly at first. As the bus began to empty, the screams became louder. The children poured into the street from both the front and rear doors of the acursed twinkie on wheels. In doing so, many of them landed feet first in a luke-warm puddle of Roy.

The people stood and watched. Some in amusement, most in horror. A few had attempted to scoop roy up with shovels, but had found him too watery for the shovels to be effective. Next, they brought buckets, but Roy only screamed in agony as each piece of his body was roughly scooped into the metal containers, and then summarily ripped from his body.

Minutes passed. Then hours. As the sun began to sink, the people began to disperse. They looked away. Some cried. Most just slipped out when they thought no one was looking. But the children stayed. And played. They picked up the shovels. They picked up the buckets. They began to scoop Roy up, and push is dribbly bits out from under the bus. They amassed him into a pile in the square. The sun was nearly behind the old church as the older children placed the younger ones on their backs. They molded Roy with their hands, formed him larger and larger. They used bits of trash and rubbish from the ground to boost Roy, inserting them into his oozing body and propped him up.

They molded Roy into a 12 foot tall platform. As the third child was hoisted onto Roy, he stopped screaming, finally. Everyone in town noticed. Some returned to the swuare and stood in awe and amazement. Roy was spread out across a crude wooden scaffold. His arms and legs were now beautifully sculpted buttrusses on a fleshy-wiggly wall. Roy unclentched his jaw, opened his eyes, and saw what he had become. His lips unfurled across the center of his rectagular body. They unfurled into a smile.

People ran from street to street, calling each other out, calling their friends and neighbors to come and witness the miracle that was Roy and the children. Come see what a strong figure has been erected in the place of a once fallen man.

And they did come. And they did see. And it was good.

In the morning, the people again gathered in the square. That morning, they did inform their leader, the Great Harold Foundary, of the tragic, and then wonderful events of the previous day.

And Harold did come to see Roy, the amazing wall-like boy. And Harold did aproach Roy, and he did kneel before Roy. And the people did not speak, as they saw Harold's reverence for the day and its events. And a great silence fell upon the city of Oakland.
And Roy began to drip. The hot morning sun was now beating down upon the square, and Roy's body was quickly turning into a liquid. And down it dripped onto Harold. And harold was coated by it.

And Roy screamed.



Today, Harold has founded a new coven. In this turbulent era of shaking buildings and quivering dreams, we here at Harold Foundary's Humongous Ass Inc. are here to remind you: At least you don't have a Humongous, screaming Ass.































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