Edit history

One evening on the sixth hundredth day of the year. The whisper of the warlocks and witches asleep and with no intention to rise. Thought to be a lie, as no one knew what a warlock was. The safety felt sells the idea for the ultimate party of unbridled euphoria. Kicking into life and kicking chickens, a good start to the celebration, more and more was required. A Molotov made by ramming the hair of a freshly shaved Neo-Nazi into a bottle was ironically used to set him alight. The chanting of "Nazi punks f@#k off" died out as dick jokes and amphetamines spread like the sexually transmitted diseases that were starting to be shared about. Someone threw up on a duck. Another threw the turd from said duck at a tree. Then T.P. Then a burning spree, possibly resulting from that fleeing, burning Nazi. I realised this was spiralling out of control. The brawling mass of the former civilised was obviously going to end in a bloodbath. The celebrations in this place always ended with death