It was a war, a war better left unfought, a war where people died, a war where guns were used, a war where one side attacked the other. a war where bad stuff happened, a war where things got blown up, a bad war, an unhappy war, where not very nice men fought other not very nice men, a war that was really warlike, a war that wasn't fun, and a war that nobody liked.
But that has absolutely nothing to do with our story...
Once upon a time there was a guy named Tom and he had a thumb so we called it Tom's thumb. this also has nothing to do with our story...
One day a man and a woman were passionately walking down a beach, the setting sun sent colors over the waters, and then suddenly they both tripped on a rather large starfish. this too has nothing to do with our story.
This is a story, a story about a story. a story about a story about a guy who writes a story about stories, but the guy is just part of a story where stories are told, but that’s another story....
One day, a child was born. his name was bob. Bob grew up and lived a long and happy life. one day bob caught a cold. as he lie on his death bed, these were the last words bob said "I want some cheese toast." and to this day, we wonder if Bob ever got his cheese toast.
THE END
(that was a good story, i liked the part where the man and woman tripped on the starfish, that was funny, but it had nothing to do with our story, but I liked it anyway, because sometimes I like things, but some things I don't like, like when Bob caught a cold, that was sad. I also like dogs, dogs are fun. do you have a dog, I once had a little tan caccapoo named nugget, he was a nice dog. that reminds me of a story where stuff happens and then there’s that one about the guy, you know the guy who wears clothes. I were clothes too, they keep me warm. its fun to be warm. I still like the part where they tripped on the starfish. I also like starfish. I like how they stick to stuff, and how they turn there stomach inside out to eat. I wish I could do that, but I wouldn't want a stomach coming out my mouth, that might be unpleasant, unless I was a starfish, but I'm not a starfish, I am a writer. now where’s my cheese toast.)
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Truth is an absolute.