Becky-is-very-bored

"Hank" John whispered, fighting back a few tears, "Hank, if you don't obey the government rules, then The Higher Ones will send us back to America to be killed. They'll kill Henry! My Henry! He's only Seven, he doesn't know what's going on. Sarah can't help him, she's gone into hiding. She really is a yeti." The dull eyes sparkled slightly, from the tears that were now falling. He dropped the gun. Alex ran and grabbed the gun, "We don't want you near this thing!" he screamed "It's messing with you!" All John could do was smile, "The longer I have that....that Thing away from me, the easier it will be to resist the plate." And then he pulled t

Loud, rhythmic music was vibrating the room, and two men, one tall with brown, untameable hair, and one short with a blonde army haircut stood in a corner. The taller of the two looked cosiderably drunk, and the shorter man appeared to be wrestling a half filled pint of beer away form him. He then shouted, "Sherlock…..Sherlock no! You've already had enough to drink! Eh…hrm…give…me..That." He managed to wrestle the glass away and put it on a ledge, the taller man, identified as Sherlock, now looking slightly agitated, "But John!" He shouted, his voice beginning to slur, "I need that drink! It's mere existence is pumping life into my poor soul.

Who created me. If you were to ask me this in a normal, everyday conversation, then you would most likely hear 'My Mum and Dad'. This isn't a normal, everyday conversation. This is a task, set to drive us up the wall, trying to find an insightful way to answer this. so, here is my answer on who created me. While my parents may have created me, my grandparents created them, who created me. My great grandparents created my grandparents, who created my parents, who then created me. my great great grandparents created my great grandparents, who created my grandparents, who created my parents, who then created me. This just goes on and on, so I