DG3 Urgent Newsflash Update

DG3 Urgent Newsflash Update

There seems to be an urgent newsflash update: Dan Girl 3, carries a new face; one of a Vampire Squirrel. Its eyes shine beady red with your fear before it shall attack you, its fangs drip never-endlessly from previous meals and terrifying to say, I have the proof.

I was walking down that cold dark street on my way to school... it seems as if I swore I could hear the leaves in the trees whisper to me their chosen techniques of torture.

No cars passed down the avenue, so I knew it would've been safe to walk on the street away from the root-clawed sidewalks.

Suddenly, a rustle in the leaves drew my attention to the left... and a squirrel the colour of hazelnut-brewed cappuccino stared oh-so-innocently at me. Then, its skin around its mouth orifice drew apart and two pointed, rust-coloured fangs, lusting for another blood snack, appeared.

Its eyes reflected my fear with such a horrific crave, wanting... ever wanting my metallic-tasting syrup.

A sharp cry emitted from its tiny lungs as it leapt toward me. I saw its fangs dripping with the fluid from its previous victim, and I heard a low moan from where the squirrel had jumped out from behind the bushes.

The only way, I knew to save myself from this flesh-eager mini-beaver was to hit the squirrel dead-center in the face with the pie I carried.

For what reason I carried this pie, nor which flavour, texture, colour, or scent it withheld, I knew nothing of the like, but what I did know, was I threw it as forcefully as I could, which then in turn hit the squirrel by applying Newton's law of motion.

And of course with my most powerful arm, the squirrel flipped a double summer-extra-dazzling-sault through the fog (I place it in the story to give it an extra chilling air (Ha, ha, air, fog... fog's in the air... nevermind.) which lightly misted the surface of its surroundings.

The rabid creature lay twisted and twitching on the ground, while a low hissing hiccup sounded forth.

I attempted to step around the rodent, but much to my surprise, it suddenly latched to my leg. I was torn between laughter and raging fear. I mean, honestly, you'd be too, if you had a rabid squirrel tearing its way into your leg-flesh with whipped cream smeared over its jowl, like a mini Santa.

With great force, the beast tipped me over, and my skull knocked itself onto the road. Before I had a chance to fall completely unconscious, I felt a small tugging on my shoe, then on my fourth toe.

It may have been ten minutes, perhaps an hour, or maybe an entire decade went by, but in any rate, I knew I sometime woke up a time later, and I was in a sparkling cavern of death-doom. The little bugger stashed me away in its lair, how dare it!

Now, this entire time you've probably been wondering why I've been calling the squirrel 'it' and not using a specific type of gender (Ex: he/she). This gigantasized mystery shall now be laid to rest as I spotted the squirrel upon a stage at the front center of the room. Within its talon-ed grasp, it withheld a feather some-fuzzy pink scarf. If my eyes were in any shape or form to transform, they would have well grew to the size of saucers.

For before me, was a psytransmorphing squirrel psytramorphing right before my very own eyes! You guessed it. Sad to say, I was taken captive by Dan Girl 3 the Vampire Squirrel. I send this letter of feathers torn from many of DG3's scarves laid out into letters on a parchment with a type of adhesive I won't bother to mention out on a tiny grasshopper I managed to snatch from the brush.

It's stuck me in a sparkling room which never ceases to sparkle with it's pinkness and all DG3 plays on the overhead projector is-hold on a second.

... ... ... ...

I'm sorry, where was I? Ah, yes.

By this point in time, I'd bet it's created a mass army of itself. I haven't any tips for helping to defeat this DG3 by which we are all threatened by, but note: whipped cream only arouses its blood-lustful thirst.

I don't believe my eyes could ever endure any more of the torture which DG3 seems fit to torture me with, so along with this startling newsflash, I send this message out as a crying plead for help.

If there is an army deemed fit and fearless of accepting this task, I advise you do so quickly, for I fear DG3's army grows larger, stronger, and pink-frillier with each passing second.