Evil. Evil was everywhere; the place held a faint, rotting stench of evil. The yellow-plastered building spread majestically, inducing a retching reflex within me. Evil emanated from this building, of that every Catholic, Jew, Protestant, Evangelical, Freemason, masochist, cyclist, and dentist could be certain. The building was the seat of the most monstrous, vile, and perfidious evil of all kinds of vile acts, attitudes, behaviors, and songs. Hidden within these absurd-sounding reflections is the incredibly true truth about this place—as has already been said (written)—it was evil.
My body was torn by numerous contradictions; I didn't want to enter a place I'd been to several times and each time returned on a shield. I felt numerous shivers run through my body like Bolshevik troops, and I heard the voices of other heroes risking all their virtues in the fight against evil. Evil. It called me inside, so, risking everything and yet having nothing to lose (as senseless as that sounds—it was), I entered a building so evil that human words cannot comprehend the enormity of this evil. I trampled upon lilac-pink flagstones, making my way towards my destination, the most crowded place. At the end of my walk, several heroes stood, visibly nervous, picking their noses, snapping their fingers (bang!), and making idiotic faces that signaled stress, constipation, diarrhea, and general bowel problems. I wanted to say something, to greet everyone in the spirit of Polish tradition, but the stress and four sleepless nights took their toll. Instead of a smile, a grimace of pain and suffering appeared on my face. Turning my head away from my undefecated companions, I saw a sign on the door: "ROOM NUMBER 1." This phenomenon made me scream out loud, "EVIL!" However, I didn't scream, as that would have been tantamount to losing my mind. I waited with my companions, whose gastric problems were becoming increasingly more acute.
Hello, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome inside. These words of the Evil Man woke me from my sleep, or was it perhaps simple contemplation brought on by stress and bowel movements? I won't delve into that today. I let my companions pass and entered the room last. Then the standard routine continued: fiku-miku, quickly, small talk, srutu-tutu, presentation, presentation. After all, everyone is experienced and this isn't their first time here, so I invite you to the yard, under the shelter; I'll be there any moment. This is what it looked like, more or less like this, more like this, because it wasn't their first time. The heroes were heading outside. Evil hovered outside. This evil hung over the yard like an indestructible smog, palpable with every gust of wind. Or perhaps it was simply evidence of my companions' intestinal, gastrointestinal, and excretory problems? (You'll allow me to do that; I won't delve into it for aesthetic and moral reasons). So, amidst unaromatic, sinister smells, we waited under the shelter for our fate. The waiting was vile, rude, and uncivilized; we all waited, called by name, like prisoners of war waiting to be shot. And suddenly, thump, thump, thump. What thump, thump, thump, I thought, and I turned my head, looking around the open room, looking, looking, but seeing nothing. thump, thump, thump, again, suddenly I looked at the feet of my pimply companion, whose expression betrayed problems (you know what), this pimply hero tapping his foot on the ground. It seemed like nothing, but there it was; that big, hard heel of his, and just thump, thump, thump. I began to shake, thump, my blood pressure spiked like a column of mercury in a tourist's ass in Hawaii. Should I warn him or not? And suddenly, another murderous thump, thump, thump, this time from the other side, this time a young lady in a miniskirt and cleavage, you can't win by the ass, lady, and the thump, thump, thump, was getting more and more depressing. Suddenly, as if in league with evil, all my companions, heroes, began to stomp. Their stomping was all the more insidious because the smells of evil (or the effects of problems with you-know-what) intensified. I escaped from the shelter and stood apart, alone like that warrior, like Chuck Norris, like a lone old wolf. I waited until, when I was alone, I heard my name. Approaching the Bad Man, I knew my fate was at stake, I knew I had to be strong. I calmly sat behind the wheel, drove off, slowly, boldly, ever more boldly.
Exam failed! These words sounded like a guilty verdict. Oh, you park scoundrel! You peasant slut! You desecrated monkey! That I forced it? I think the old guys forced it on you! Don't bullshit me, you bald trisomic! My outrage was endless when I returned home with the guarantee in hand and the date of my next encounter with the forces of evil. I knew one thing: evil is all-powerful.
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