Okay, reposted it here... and read the red line... Isn't it especially... right?
It all started when our predictably heroic protagonist, Illya Kuryakin, woke up in a secret vineyard. It was the ninth time it had happened. Feeling very frustrated, Illya Kuryakin deflowered a live hand grenade, thinking it would make him feel better (but as usual, it did not). Unaware of the bleakness of existence, he realized that his beloved cupcake was missing! Immediately he called his fundamentalist, guilt-dispensing friend, Napoleon Solo. Illya Kuryakin had known Napoleon Solo for (plus or minus) half a million years, the majority of which were enchanting ones. Napoleon Solo was unique. He was ingenious though sometimes a little... clueless. Illya Kuryakin called him anyway, for the situation was urgent.
Napoleon Solo picked up to a very mad Illya Kuryakin. Napoleon Solo calmly assured him that most disease-carrying chipmunks grimace before mating, yet man-eating capybaras usually flamboyantly panic *after* mating. He had no idea what that meant; he was only concerned with distracting Illya Kuryakin. Why was Napoleon Solo trying to distract Illya Kuryakin? Because he had snuck out from Illya Kuryakin's with the cupcake only four days prior. It was a striking little cupcake... how could he resist?
It didn't take long before Illya Kuryakin got back to the subject at hand: his cupcake. Napoleon Solo grimaced. Relunctantly, Napoleon Solo invited him over, assuring him they'd find the cupcake. Illya Kuryakin grabbed his hammock and disembarked immediately. After hanging up the phone, Napoleon Solo realized that he was in trouble. He had to find a place to hide the cupcake and he had to do it thoughtfully. He figured that if Illya Kuryakin took the gas-guzzling, ecology-destroying, tankish SUV, he had take at least six minutes before Illya Kuryakin would get there. But if he took the jaguar? Then Napoleon Solo would be alarmingly screwed.
Before he could come up with any reasonable ideas, Napoleon Solo was interrupted by four pestering cats that were lured by his cupcake. Napoleon Solo shuddered; 'Not again', he thought. Feeling pleased, he aimlessly reached for his carrot and carefully slapped every last one of them. Apparently this was an adequate deterrent--the discouraged critters began to scurry back toward the swamp, squealing with discontent. He exhaled with relief. That's when he heard the jaguar rolling up. It was Illya Kuryakin.
As he pulled up, he felt a sense of urgency. He had had to make an unscheduled stop at Texaco to pick up a 12-pack of ripened avocados, so he knew he was running late. With a hasty leap, Illya Kuryakin was out of the jaguar and went earnestly jaunting toward Napoleon Solo's front door. Meanwhile inside, Napoleon Solo was panicking. Not thinking, he tossed the cupcake into a box of potatos and then slid the box behind his George Foreman grill. Napoleon Solo was stunned but at least the cupcake was concealed. The doorbell rang.
'Come in,' Napoleon Solo scandalously purred. With a skillful push, Illya Kuryakin opened the door. 'Sorry for being late, but I was being chased by some pestering social outcast in a noise-polluting import,' he lied. 'It's fine,' Napoleon Solo assured him. Illya Kuryakin took a seat right next to where Napoleon Solo had hidden the cupcake. Napoleon Solo sighed trying unsuccessfully to hide his nervousness. 'Uhh, can I get you anything?' he blurted. But Illya Kuryakin was distracted. Just as zero people expected Napoleon Solo noticed a pestering look on Illya Kuryakin's face. Illya Kuryakin slowly opened his mouth to speak.
'...What's that smell?'
Napoleon Solo felt a stabbing pain in his taint when Illya Kuryakin asked this. In a moment of disbelief, he realized that he had hidden the cupcake right by his oscillating fan. 'Wh-what? I don't smell anything..!' A lie. A abrasive look started to form on Illya Kuryakin's face. He turned to notice a box that seemed clearly out of place. 'Th-th-those are just my grandma's dull pencils from when she used to have pet 3-legged wallabies. She, uh...dropped 'em by here earlier'. Illya Kuryakin nodded with fake acknowledgement...then, before Napoleon Solo could react, Illya Kuryakin recklessly lunged toward the box and opened it. The cupcake was plainly in view.
Illya Kuryakin stared at Napoleon Solo for what what must've been six millseconds. A few unsatisfying minutes later, Napoleon Solo groped earnestly in Illya Kuryakin's direction, clearly desperate. Illya Kuryakin grabbed the cupcake and bolted for the door. It was locked. Napoleon Solo let out a exotic chuckle. 'If only you hadn't been so protective of that thing, none of this would have happened, Illya Kuryakin,' he rebuked. Napoleon Solo always had been a little selfish, so Illya Kuryakin knew that reconciliation was not an option; he needed to escape before Napoleon Solo did something crazy, like... start chucking live hand grenades at him or something. In a tragically predictable turn of events, he gripped his cupcake tightly and made a dash toward the window, diving headlong through the glass panels.
Napoleon Solo looked on, blankly. 'What the hell? That seemed excessive. The other door was open, you know.' Silence from Illya Kuryakin. 'And to think, I varnished that window frame eight days ago...it never ends!' Suddenly he felt a tinge of concern for Illya Kuryakin. 'Oh. You ..okay?' Still silence. Napoleon Solo walked over to the window and looked down. Illya Kuryakin was gone.
Just yonder, Illya Kuryakin was struggling to make his way through the swamp behind Napoleon Solo's place. Illya Kuryakin had severely hurt his ear during the window incident, and was starting to lose strength. Another pack of feral cats suddenly appeared, having caught wind of the cupcake. One by one they latched on to Illya Kuryakin. Already weakened from his injury, Illya Kuryakin yielded to the furry onslaught and collapsed. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was a buzzing horde of cats running off with his cupcake.
But then God came down with His congenial smile and restored Illya Kuryakin's cupcake. Feeling stunned, God smote the cats for their injustice. Then He got in His best-in-its-so-called-'class' sedan and darted away with the fortitude of one million legless puppies running from a big pack of South American hissing sloths. Illya Kuryakin danced with joy when he saw this. His cupcake was safe. It was a good thing, too, because in eight minutes his favorite TV show, Lost, was going to come on (followed immediately by 'When venomous koalas meet hand grenade'). Illya Kuryakin was contented. And so, everyone except Napoleon Solo and a few ebola-toting Indonesian devil cats lived blissfully happy, forever after.
*** L337 Story Generator v1.0
*** Written by Derek Clark. Copyright © www.the-elite.net ~ 2004-present
*** Forever pwning with earnest.