The sun rose over Royal Woods, casting a warm glow over the Loud House. Inside, the remaining sisters began their usual morning routine. Lori, Leni, Luna, Lynn, Lola, Lana, and Lisa moved through the house, preparing for another day at Royal Woods School for Children Who Need to Go to School.

The house was bustling with activity. Lori applied her makeup in the bathroom, expertly wielding her mascara wand while Leni stood beside her, struggling with her hair straightener. "Do you think we should get Luan and Lucy?" Leni asked, her voice muffled as she tugged at a particularly stubborn tangle.

Lori shrugged, not looking up from her mirror. "Luan's dead, whatevs," she replied nonchalantly. "She kinda had it coming anyway."

Luna, tuning her guitar in the living room, nodded in agreement. "Totally. And Lucy? With her extreme diarrhea, we're better off without her."

Lisa, adjusting her glasses and organizing her backpack, chimed in. "Statistically speaking, Lucy's gastrointestinal condition poses a significant biohazard. Her absence is a precautionary measure."

The sisters moved through the house with the ease of practiced routine, gathering their things and heading out the door. They paid no mind to the 3,000-foot-tall mountain of corpses that loomed ominously in the distance. The walk to school was uneventful. Birds chirped in the trees, and the sun shone brightly. The sisters chatted about their plans for the day, their conversation light and carefree despite the surreal backdrop of destruction. They passed by Flip's Food and Fuel, where a charred crater was all that remained.

"What happened here?" Lola asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

Lana shrugged, kicking a piece of debris with her boot. "Who knows? Probably just Flip being Flip."

They continued on their way, oblivious to the chaos that had unfolded just hours before. The Royal Woods School for Children Who Need to Go to School came into view.

As they entered the school, the sisters were greeted by the usual hustle and bustle of students and teachers. The principal's voice crackled over the intercom, delivering the morning announcements. "Good morning, students. Today's lunch will be spaghetti and meatballs. And remember, the talent show is this Friday, so get your acts ready!"

The sisters made their way to their lockers, chatting and laughing. Lori was about to comment on Luna's new guitar riff when a loud, mechanical voice echoed through the hallways. "This is a bomb threat!"

Students froze in their tracks, but instead of an explosion, a Bob-Omb waddled into the hallway. "I can't explode and I don't have my homework!" it screamed, clearly frustrated. "I'm gonna pre!"

Luna, strumming her guitar, barely had time to react before the Bob-Omb launched itself at her. Despite having no hands, it delivered a beatdown, flailing wildly as if it had fists. Luna hit the ground, dazed and confused, while the Bob-Omb vented its rage. There was little left of her guitar, and the anger this caused her had Luna feeling like Mike Tyson on Ambien, that Bob-Omb got bob-ombed.

In the classroom, Lori adjusted her seat, flipping her hair over her shoulder. "Can you believe we have a pop quiz today?" she sighed, fiddling with her phone, she barely paid attention. "I didn't study at all," she mumbled.

"You couldn't have studied," said the new teacher, Dr. Fargokilsumamerikans. "I created this test five minutes ago. With my bare hands."

"Whateverrrrrr," goes Lori.

Meanwhile, in the hallway, the chaos continued. Students scattered as the Bob-Omb continued its tirade. Luna tried to shield herself with the remnants of guitar, but the relentless assault left her reeling as the Bob-Omb was stronger than expected.

Lisa watched from a good safe distance, taking notes. "Fascinating. The Bob-Omb exhibits typical frustration-induced aggression, but the absence of explosive capability seems to have intensified its physical responses."

Lana and Lola peeked around the corner, watching the scene unfold. "Shouldn't we do something?" Lana asked.

Lola shrugged. "Luna can handle it. Besides, I don't want to get my dress dirty."

As the Bob-Omb's rage intensified, teachers finally intervened, dragging Luna to safety. "Alright, everyone, back to class!" the principal bellowed, attempting to restore order. T

The sisters regrouped at their lockers, shrugging. "Typical Monday," Lori said.

"It's Saturday," said Lana.

"Why the fuck are we at school on a Saturday," screamed Lola, before a big jock kid pushed her into a locker and broke her nose. "Ow!" She kicked at him, but he was gone.

The Bob-Omb, still fuming from its fight with Luna, wandered the school hallways, muttering angrily about spooky shit. As it rounded a corner, Lynn Jr. spotted it. "Hey, bomb-face!" she shouted, charging at it. With a powerful kick, she sent the Bob-Omb flying out of the school and into the neighboring town of Hazeltucky.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" its eyes were so angry.

The Bob-Omb sailed through the air, its eyes wide with shock, before landing in Hazeltucky's main square. Upon impact, it exploded in a cloud of noxious gas, enveloping the town in a toxic fog. The residents of Hazeltucky ran in all directions, coughing and choking as the greenish haze spread.

Meanwhile, Lincoln was on a mission of his own. Dressed in a mercenary cowboy outfit, complete with a wide-brimmed hat and a bandolier of ammo, he made his way to Flip's Food and Fuel. With a steely gaze, he pulled out a Faustpatrone, straight out of a Chaplin mustached fellow's military armory.

Lincoln aimed at the gas pumps, his finger tightening on the trigger. With a loud whoosh, the rocket-propelled grenade shot towards its target. The resulting explosion was a massive BLEVE, sending a towering fireball into the sky. From a helicopter's vantage point, the scene was apocalyptic. But we're not in a helicopter.

The fireball erupted with an intense heat that melted nearby structures. The explosion's shockwave shattered windows for miles around, and a small mushroom cloud formed, rising high into the sky. The roar of the explosion echoed across Royal Woods. Flames licked at the sky as smoke billowed upwards, creating a dark plume visible from miles away.

With the explosion fading into the background, he turned and made his way to Weenie Hut General.

At the hospital, the aftermath of the previous night's chaos was still evident. Bodies lay strewn about, and the building was eerily silent. Lincoln stepped over the debris, heading towards a specific hospital room.

Inside, Lucy lay in bed, her face contorted with discomfort. Ghostly nurses floated around her, tending to her with spectral hands. The room was filled with a faint, eerie glow as the ghosts continued doing their jobs, despite their deadness. A capitalist's wet dream.

Lucy's stomach gurgled, the pressure building inside her, but with no way to expel it anymore. She groaned, clutching her abdomen. "Why is this happening to me?" she whimpered

Lincoln stood at the foot of her bed, his expression grim. "I'm sure Ronnie Anne's behind this," he said, his voice low. "She must have slipped you something."

Lucy shook her head. "No, Lincoln. Ronnie Anne wouldn't do that. She's a good, innocent girl. She is wonderful."

The ghostly nurses exchanged glances but continued their work. They moved silently around the room, their faces blank and expressionless. One ghost nurse adjusted an IV drip, while another gently faded into nonexistence against her will.

The pressure in Lucy's stomach continued to build, each gurgle more intense than the last. She writhed in pain, her face pale and sweaty. "I don't know how much more of this I can take," she gasped, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Lincoln clenched his fists, his anger simmering just below the surface. "We'll find out who did this to you, Lucy. And when we do, they'll pay."

Lucy's eyes fluttered closed as another wave of pain washed over her. "I just want it to stop," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

The ghost nurses continued their silent vigil, their ethereal forms moving with an otherworldly grace. The room was filled with an uneasy tension, the air thick with the weight of Lucy's suffering and Lincoln's simmering rage.

"Ronnie Anne's going to suck a barrel for this," he seethed. "Then... I'll take out my sisters. And finally, YOU, dad. You. Are going down. Forever."

Ahhh, Niagara Falls, a picturesque destination brimming with tourists. The sun was shining, the falls roared majestically, and families were enjoying a seemingly perfect day. Suddenly, the tranquility was shattered by the thunderous arrival of a helicopter made entirely of human skeletons. Its blades, made of spinning femurs and tibias, whipped the air into a frenzy.

The skeletal helicopter touched down on the grass near the observation deck, and out poured a squad of mercenaries. These were no ordinary soldiers; they wielded Ass-Saws—chainsaws revved by their own flatulence. The mercenaries unleashed their gruesome weapons, which roared to life with each fart, spewing noxious fumes and sawdust.

Tourists scattered in all directions, screaming in terror as the mercenaries began mowing them down. The Ass-Saws tore through flesh and bone with sickening ease, the sound of revving engines mixing with the terrified cries of the crowd. Blood sprayed in all directions, painting the green grass a vivid crimson.

Near the edge of the falls, a family of four tried to escape the madness. The father shielded his children with his body, but a mercenary with an Ass-Saw approached. With a swift, brutal motion, the chainsaw tore through the man, sending his body parts tumbling over the edge into the churning waters below. The entire family was wiped out.

A group of teenage friends on a sightseeing trip became the next targets. One of the mercenaries, wielding a massive chain gun that fired at 500,000 rounds per second, opened fire. Bullets ripped through the teens, their bodies crumpling to the ground in a heap of blood and gore that was soon reduced to its Planck matter. The chain gun's roar drowned out the sound of the falls, creating a cacophony of death.

As the super violent mercenaries continued their rampage, a police response team arrived, sirens blaring. The officers barely had time to take cover before the mercenaries turned their firepower on them. A police car exploded in a ball of fire, and the officers were picked off one by one.

One mercenary, armed with a flamethrower, set fire to the souvenir stands. The flames spread quickly, engulfing everything in their path. Panicked tourists ran in all directions, their clothes and hair ablaze as they tried desperately to escape the inferno.

A young couple on their honeymoon tried to hide behind a large rock, but a mercenary found them. With a cruel laugh, he revved his Ass-Saw and brought it down on them, the blade slicing through flesh and bone.

An elderly woman, too slow to escape, was cornered by one of the mercenaries. He swung his Cock-Saw, which was the same thing but for his pet cock which was waddling by his side, decapitating her in one swift motion. Her headless body slumped to the ground, blood pooling around it.

The scene at Niagara Falls was a nightmarish spectacle. Bodies lay strewn across the ground, the once pristine landscape now a battlefield soaked in blood. The falls themselves ran red with the blood of the innocent, the water tainted by the senseless violence.

As the mercenaries continued their slaughter, the skeletal helicopter dropped on its side and its blades killed everyone.

Numbers 6:24-26: The LORD bless you and keep you; the LORD make his face shine on you and be gracious to you; the LORD turn his face toward you and give you peace.