Linear Boredom.

By Dylan Vaz, Avery Collins, and Kneesmith.
(We did this in about twenty minutes, and we wrote it by alternating sentences, the order being Me, Kneesmith, then Avery.)

So it begins. For the 3rd time. The pandas are continuing to drop the bombs. The war with the koalas was a long one fraught with senseless hysteria. But the people will become detached, and soon the bombs would stop, and the koalas will hide their faces for a few years until things seemed clear again. Years and years continued to pass until the koalas began to form extravagant powers. Then the pandas gained the ability of unassisted flight, and the fourth wave of wars began, this time with no end. And until I get out of bed this will just repeat over and over in my head. So I pull back the covers and step to the floor. The familiar staleness of my padded cell hit me like a sledgehammer of stark reality, and I dove upon the tray the guard had pushed under the door. Fucking bastard, never leaves enough ketchup.

THE END.