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Not being much of a fanfic writer myself, I took advantage of a nice little website to do the dirty work:
Well, Sam's a little less....um, vicious, but it generated a nice, funny (but tragic) story. Enjoy!
Damn Those Beavecoons
by Noseby Moseby
It all started when our over-heralded star, Freddie, woke up in a imaginary desert. It was the fourth time it had happened. Feeling exceedingly stunned, Freddie deflowered a pencil, thinking it would make him feel better (but as usual, it did not). Just as zero people expected he realized that his beloved ham sandwich was missing! Immediately he called his so-called friend, Sam. Freddie had known Sam for (plus or minus) 550,000 years, the majority of which were exotic ones. Sam was unique. She was smart though sometimes a little... caustic. Freddie called her anyway, for the situation was urgent.
Sam picked up to a very calm Freddie. Sam sarcastically assured him that most legless puppies yawn before mating, yet spotted wolf hamsters usually charismatically belch *after* mating. She had no idea what that meant; she was only concerned with distracting Freddie. Why was Sam trying to distract Freddie? Because she had snuck out from Freddie's with the ham sandwich only eight days prior. It was a exotic little ham sandwich... how could she resist?
It didn't take long before Freddie got back to the subject at hand: his ham sandwich. Sam shuddered but relunctantly invited him over, assuring him they'd find the ham sandwich. Freddie grabbed his camera and disembarked immediately. After hanging up the phone, Sam realized that she was in trouble. She had to find a place to hide the ham sandwich and she had to do it randomly. She figured that if Freddie took the nappy, busted-out hatchback, she had take at least two minutes before Freddie would get there. But if he took the helicopter? Then Sam would be really screwed.
Before she could come up with any reasonable ideas, Sam was interrupted by eight oafish beavecoons that were lured by her ham sandwich. Sam belched; 'Not again', she thought. Feeling displeased, she aimlessly reached for her potato and aggressively hit every last one of them. Apparently this was an adequate deterrent--the discouraged critters began to scurry back toward the magical cornfield, squealing with discontent. She exhaled with relief. That's when she heard the helicopter approaching. It was Freddie.
As he pulled up, he felt a sense of urgency. He had had to make an unscheduled stop at Texaco to pick up a 12-pack of potatoes, so he knew he was running late. With a quick leap, Freddie was out of the helicopter and went scandalously jaunting toward Sam's front door. Meanwhile inside, Sam was panicking. Not thinking, she tossed the ham sandwich into a box of ninja stars and then slid the box behind her time machine. Sam was exhausted but at least the ham sandwich was concealed. Then the doorbell rang.
'Come in,' Sam charismatically purred. With a hasty push, Freddie opened the door. 'Sorry for being late, but I was being chased by some dimwitted self-righteous hobo in a nappy, busted-out hatchback,' he lied. 'It's fine,' Sam assured him. Freddie took a seat not remotely close to where Sam had hidden the ham sandwich. Sam yawned trying unsuccessfully to hide her nervousness. 'Uhh, can I get you anything?' she blurted. But Freddie was distracted. Unaware of the bleakness of existence, Sam noticed a clueless look on Freddie's face. Freddie slowly opened his mouth to speak.
"What's that smell?"
Sam felt a stabbing pain in her love handle when Freddie asked this. In a moment of disbelief, she realized that she had hidden the ham sandwich right by her oscillating fan. 'Wh-what? I don't smell anything..!' A lie. A dimwitted look started to form on Freddie's face. He turned to notice a box that seemed clearly out of place. 'Th-th-those are just my grandma's dull pencils from when she used to have pet 3-legged wallabies. She, uh...dropped 'em by here earlier'. Freddie nodded with fake acknowledgement...then, before Sam could react, Freddie aptly lunged toward the box and opened it. The ham sandwich was plainly in view.
Freddie stared at Sam for what what must've been nine millseconds. In a tragically predictable turn of events, Sam groped exotically in Freddie's direction, clearly desperate. Freddie grabbed the ham sandwich and bolted for the door. It was locked. Sam let out a flamboyant chuckle. 'If only you hadn't been so protective of that thing, none of this would have happened, Freddie,' she rebuked. Sam always had been a little sarcastic, so Freddie knew that reconciliation was not an option; he needed to escape before Sam did something crazy, like... start chucking wolverines at him or something. A few unfulfilled decades later, he gripped his ham sandwich tightly and made a dash toward the window, diving headlong through the glass panels.
Sam looked on, blankly. 'What the hell? That seemed excessive. The other door was open, you know.' Silence from Freddie. 'And to think, I varnished that window frame three days ago...it never ends!' Suddenly she felt a tinge of concern for Freddie. 'Oh. You ..okay?' Still silence. Sam walked over to the window and looked down. Freddie was gone.
Just beyond, Freddie was struggling to make his way through the disease-infested jungle behind Sam's place. Freddie had severely hurt his ankle during the window incident, and was starting to lose strength. Another pack of feral beavecoons suddenly appeared, having caught wind of the ham sandwich. One by one they latched on to Freddie. Already weakened from his injury, Freddie yielded to the furry onslaught and collapsed. The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was a buzzing horde of beavecoons running off with his ham sandwich.
About five hours later, Freddie awoke, his shin throbbing. It was dark and Freddie did not know where he was. Deep in the broad, dark pumpkin patch, Freddie was abnormally lost. A few unsatisfying minutes later, he remembered that his ham sandwich was taken by the beavecoons. But at that point, he was just thankful for his life. That's when, to his horror, a teensy beavecoon emerged from the fanstic pumpkin patch. It was the alpha beavecoon. Freddie opened his mouth to scream but was cut short when the beavecoon sunk its teeth into Freddie's scalp. With a faint groan, the life escaped from Freddie's lungs, but not before he realized that he was a failure.
Less than seven miles away, Sam was entombed by anguish over the loss of the ham sandwich. 'MY PRECIOUS!!' she cried, as she reached for a sharpened gerbil. With a mighty thrust, she buried it deeply into her armpit. As the room began to fade to black, she thought about Freddie... wishing she had found the courage to tell him that she loved him. But she would die alone that day. All that remained was the ham sandwich that had turned them against each other, ultimately causing their demise. And as the dew on melancholy sappling branches began to reflect the dawn's reddish glare, all that could be heard was the chilling cry of distant beavecoons, desecrating all things sacred to virtuous men, and perpetuating an evil that would reign for centuries to come. Our heroes would've lived unhappily ever after, but they were too busy being dead. So, no one lived forever after. The End. :'(
- L337 Story Generator v1.0