It was the end of the world, so to speak. THere were four fucking F4 tornados in downtown Los Angeles and they were ripping apart the city more ferociously than Godzilla when he forget his Pedialyte drink because he is a growing boy, so to speak. He is a mother fucking boss and he loves backing his ass up Michael Jackson style as if it was 1985. The tornadoes sounded very similar to a blender grinding up some cheap ice cubes that only can be found in a gas station managed by people from Toronto instead of Montreal, so there was a monumental difference in the crunchy sound because if you couldn't differentiate, you knew you definitely couldn't integrate, if you know what I mean, you mathematics people. :')
A man was holding onto a bottle of Clorox as he was trying to avoid the furious winds that were approaching ever so closely. He was wearing a tiny black speedo and was roller skating, but all the sudden, the winds carried the bottle of bleach away from him and he screamed.
"Clory! No!"
The bleach began to ascent to the sky and left a twinkle and made a loud fart sound as it was doing its best to get away from it all in the big ass city known as Los Angeles.