Once upon a time, there was a farm in the English countryside called Animal Farm. In this farm there was a sty, and in this sty there was a pig named Pig. Everyone in this farm was happy.
One day, a man came to the farm, with a badly trimmed moustache, and a pen and paper. The man introduced himself as George Orwell, and said that he wished to examine the farm for his upcoming novel on the Soviet Union. Pig had never heard of Mr. Orwell before; but, being a firm believer in the immortal science, he was curious as to what the writer was planning to write.
Pig asked: “Mr. Orwell, will you write of how the Soviet Union under Stalin has had the fastest and most comprehensive industrialisation programme in human history?” Orwell laughed, and he didn’t have to a say a word, for his face betrayed his contempt for the people of the USSR. Pig was furious, and decided to stop this the only way he knew how.
Pig yelled: “Oh yeah? Watch this” and pooped all over his balls, which Mr. Orwell found to be gigantic. The British writer knew what this meant: he was owned. He had no choice but to abandon his manuscript, which Pig promptly used to clean himself. Pig became a celebrated figure in the fight against human anti-communism across all of the farms in the British isles, known respectfully as Pig Poop Balls.
Mr. Orwell abandoned his dream of becoming a writer a stuck to being a journalist. He started to write for the Guardian, but was shocked when they deliberately hid from the public the ongoing white genocide in South Africa. He quit his job and became a podcaster, and frequently beefed with Hassan until his untimely death chocking on a fish bone.
Didnt read it, write me a short fanfiction about pig poop balls
Once upon a time, there was a farm in the English countryside called Animal Farm. In this farm there was a sty, and in this sty there was a pig named Pig. Everyone in this farm was happy.
One day, a man came to the farm, with a badly trimmed moustache, and a pen and paper. The man introduced himself as George Orwell, and said that he wished to examine the farm for his upcoming novel on the Soviet Union. Pig had never heard of Mr. Orwell before; but, being a firm believer in the immortal science, he was curious as to what the writer was planning to write.
Pig asked: “Mr. Orwell, will you write of how the Soviet Union under Stalin has had the fastest and most comprehensive industrialisation programme in human history?” Orwell laughed, and he didn’t have to a say a word, for his face betrayed his contempt for the people of the USSR. Pig was furious, and decided to stop this the only way he knew how.
Pig yelled: “Oh yeah? Watch this” and pooped all over his balls, which Mr. Orwell found to be gigantic. The British writer knew what this meant: he was owned. He had no choice but to abandon his manuscript, which Pig promptly used to clean himself. Pig became a celebrated figure in the fight against human anti-communism across all of the farms in the British isles, known respectfully as Pig Poop Balls.
Mr. Orwell abandoned his dream of becoming a writer a stuck to being a journalist. He started to write for the Guardian, but was shocked when they deliberately hid from the public the ongoing white genocide in South Africa. He quit his job and became a podcaster, and frequently beefed with Hassan until his untimely death chocking on a fish bone.
The End