WordMaster

WordMaster Cracked photo
  • Real Name: PeriplanetaAmericana
  • Location: On bed, can't get up
  • Member Since: February 6th, 2011 10:44 am
  • Last Seen: July 24th, 2013 06:05 pm
  • Personal tag line: I seem to have become a cockroach. But it's OK, 'cuz I got these cool shades.
  • Message board posts: 0

About WordMaster

One morning, as WordMaster was waking up from anxious dreams, he discovered that in his bed he had been changed into a monstrous verminous bug. He lay on his armour-hard back and saw, as he lifted his head up a little, his brown, arched abdomen divided up into rigid bow-like sections. From this height the blanket, just about ready to slide off completely, could hardly stay in place. His numerous legs, pitifully thin in comparison to the rest of his circumference, flickered helplessly before his eyes.

“What’s happened to me,” he thought. It was no dream. His room, a proper room for a human being, only somewhat too small, lay quietly between the four shit-smeared walls. Above the table, on which an unpacked collection of sample cloth goods was spread out — WordMaster was a travelling salesman — hung the picture which he had cut out of an illustrated magazine a little while ago and set in a pretty gilt frame. It was a picture of a woman with a fur hat and a fur boa. She sat erect (hehe) there, lifting up in the direction of the viewer a solid fur muff (WOW, Kafka..) into which her entire forearm had disappeared (OK, stop! There's no way that wasn't intentional, you pervert!)

(Pardon the Interruption, Now Back to the Story...)

WordMaster’s glance then turned to the window. The dreary weather—the rain drops were falling audibly down on the metal window ledge—made him quite melancholy. “Why don’t I keep sleeping for a little while longer and forget all this foolishness,” he thought. But this was entirely impractical, for he was used to sleeping on his right side, but in his present state he could not get himself into this position. No matter how hard he threw himself onto his right side, he always rolled onto his back again. He must have tried it a hundred times, closing his eyes so that he would not have to see the wriggling legs. He could never keep them closed for long, however, because that would have prevented him from seeing his awesomely cool shades. Seriously, these shades are so sweet. You guys have no idea.

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