This story was 'Up for grabs' - whoever wasn't writing on another story could add to this one.
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"Slowly pee into the pizza ," said Mario loudly. All we ask is that you forget that in 60 years you look like that sauce I smeared over your open, running friend. "But why?" You mewed into my cow. Overcoming Mario pistoned sulkily around until pizza pee leaked 60 odd times too many. How droll. How unlikely. How enchanting! Aaaaahhhhhhh choo! Bless Cheetohs! Mmmmm bop. Hanson! Bring on the urine and calzone! Mario, unzip Frank first then gently slide him from wild coyotes to save bulk oatmeal.
"Slowly ," I cautioned Brandy, as Mario slowly gummed my Suzuki samurai into cavernous wastes. "Slowly," Mario barked quickly. "That's the key!" With very little speed he continued to crawl forward till he reached the oven timer. Time seemed to pass less quickly than it had 60 seconds ago. Frank had to get the vest off, even if it meant the pizza would burn. He pulled at the apron ties, even while aching for the next s l o w breath from the oxygen tank. The apron-vest fluttered to the floor as the apron strings stuck to the oven door, flaming as Mario screamed and began to pee, relentlessly.
