Here, two stories strangely demented appreciated by the people of EFP, which has (alas) but snubbed my work, er, "seriously."
words. What * more * seriously.
Not that Richard may be regarded as a serious character. O Elizabeth. Or that fancazzista Keith, never mind.
But I digress.
I said. These stories are stupid fanfiction I posted recently on EFP, a receptacle for rubbish and absurd masterpieces (at a ratio of 1:100), delight and torment of every writer FF.
I enjoyed and still enjoy myself like an idiot, to write. Someone
he also enjoys reading them.
The first is an original, dealing with the insane adventures of a young woman of the fifties, separated from his dreams of glory by a passion for the kidney, an avalanche of cats obese and intrusive, and a couple of friends logorrheic.
Apart from an aunt who can not prepare the porridge.
born from my need to make a terrible diet to solve a health problem (and consequently, my tremendous desire for sweets and greasy foods), is peppered with (a very appropriate word) of food, despite these very exciting circumstances, it seems that someone like him. The
received positive reviews have already greatly inflate my already huge presumption.
More advertising for me than anything else, the link here:
Millenovecentocinquantatrè
He slipped into his room, got away with a kick of your shoes - his feet were swollen like two bagpipes - and dropped back on the bed.
"Meee-ow", made the bed beneath her.
Sighing, Evelyn got up and dislodges yet another overweight cat who had holed up under the bedspread and the animal stretched voluptuously on the platform, before taking the door with a loud yawn. A
Evelyn liked cats, but would have liked to have some 'privacy, sometimes.
For example, having a big striped cat staring at you while you brush your teeth, perched on the vanity of cosmetics, in the long run ended by fatigue. Or take a bath with a red cat, poised on the edge of the tub, stretch a leg to play with the towel.
Keeping an eye on her aunt, Evelyn index slipped cautiously into her mouth and tried to remove from the muffin molar with your fingernail.
A respectable lady does not put his hands in his mouth.
But even goes around with a bun on the palate.
"All right, darling?" Rang aunt in the kitchen.
"Sfhughr," said Evelyn, hard-working. A trickle of drool ran down the long hand.
http://www.efpfanfic.net/viewstory.php?sid=290151&i=1
This is instead a Harry Potter, the auspicious name Harry Pottah In a mission from God
Even more insane the other, speaks of the attempts of a scazzatissima Hermione and Ron as a moron than usual, to get rid of Potty-Potter, who after defeating Voldemort wants to be called His Holiness the walls and challenge the school of magic duels.
the noble initiative participate joyfully, even Draco, Hagrid, and the portrait of Severus Snape.
"Ron, Harry is! Harry. "Hermione snapped, exasperated.
"Potter?"
"No. Houdini. "
" Really? "
" No. "
Hermione tries to dominate.
... Harry Potter continued to do what he was doing - that is nothing, as usual - and it seemed he had not even heard.
He sat cross-legged in the grass, the index finger and thumb together to form a circle.
"Potter!"
Harry turned slowly toward him. He raised a hand with gifts.
"What are you, son?" He asked, languidly.
Draco was dumbfounded, not even her father dared to call him "son."
http://www.efpfanfic.net/viewstory.php?sid=290573&i=1
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