10 Cuils

You ask me for a hamburger. A warlock nearby floats into the plastic cup. The noodles transform into thin wires. Your wooden table at home begins to yell in anger. All cows in the world slowly disintegrate. You are given a cheeseburger by my coworker. My coworker is dead, and never existed. I instantly become vastly intelligent, but it is overwritten by the nearby pencil heads.
A beggar in the distance stands up and fades into the atmosphere. A golden tophat is given life, but realizes its fate, and turns into a hamburger. You do not receive the hamburger. You are now corporeal, but your new form does not last long. You get visions of the far future, and the long-gone past. My hand touches your brain, and you are enlightened. A growing embalming feeling engulfs your lower calf. The pitch black goes to the store to buy food, but there was no store, and the store is instead replaced by Morgan Freeman.
A situation of anxiety fills my mind, and I tell you that you want a hamburger. You forget what I have told you, and reply by informing me of my late mother. You turn to the meteor slowly growing as it consumes a glass of iced tea. The waitress nearby suggests ordering a large framed tissue box.
I do not exist.
You are within another realm, but are already a spirit.
All religions are true for an instant, but only the existence of the Flying Spaghetti Monster exists. A large cow in the distance moans in agony. The meteor is almost at the planet Pluto, where you reside. I inform you that your clothing is very sluggish, but you insist that it is, in fact, lonely. All grammar rules are false, and an English teacher at a negative distance away runs into you, and then turns into a slice of bread, and plays calming music.
I give you a hamburger, from my home in the Atlantic Ocean. You thank me, in an alternate universe, though your thanks did not reach me. You feel angry, and swing your phone at a nearby tree, but the tree was already hit by you 3 minutes ago, so you instead lightly tap your eyeball. You engulf the small, mediocre hamburger, and feel satiated. In an instant, all hamburgers are removed from the planet Jupiter, and the sun engulfs San Francisco. An asteroid collides into your handkerchief, and you sing the song of your people. The meteor hastily descends upon Earth, but you are in Pluto, so it doesn't matter. The granite airplane takes you to Earth, and you die.
In an alternate universe, you did not take the granite airplane, and the airplane was a hamburger. You instead call the police, and they lick the granite hamburger until it turns into hard candy. You eat the hard candy, but you only feel angry. In anger, you mourn for a family that has just lost their pet cow. A nearby supermarket is no longer Chinese. The Westboro Baptist Church becomes sentient, and creates a video game that is only a towel. A question floats in your mind, and you speak it. The cats nearby are offended, and you give them clay.
Steak is now ham, and you are thoroughly educated. Your education leads you to believe in a fate that will soon occur, but your unborn child tells you otherwise. I am now a grain of sand, and you hold me in your hands. I ask you for a hamburger. You give me a hamburger. 
I plead for a hamburger. You refuse. I ask your pet for a hamburger, but it speaks only French. The large, stone pillar to the left of you disappears, and my hunger for a hamburger is satiated. I suddenly am filled with a large radio, but I do not play music. Instead, I play a clay pot, and it dances around the auditorium. The tennis ball hovers above my newly built coffee maker, and I am shunned by the others.
My hamburger comes to life, and we mourn its arrival. The homework is page 39 problems 42-55, odd. You do not recieve your daily income. You pass START, but your lunchbox overweighed you, and you forfeit your stolen goods. The musty air fills you with regret, and I feel nothing. I recieve a text from the police, and they tell me that they want their blue scissors back. I reply with a picture of my stop sign. I will soon be thankful for this choice, but I opened the cabinet too late, anyways. It didn't matter. You cannot truly be satiated, so your hunger grows. It soon takes a physical form, and consumes everyone nearby. My plate is empty, and yours is the symbol of disaster. A poor, old woman gasps, and accepts her fate, running into the large, physical form of your hunger. Your hunger grows into a large, granite hamburger.
I disapprove.
I touch the red button with the slightest tap, and the protocol for refreshing the page is done. I go on my booklet and read about the war of 2059, but it is relevant, so I discontinue. My boss fires me, but I tell him otherwise. I hand you a large, sculpted, hand-crafted, painted, chiseled, soft, delicate, beautiful marble hamburger. You gaze upon it, and you begin to swim in the polluted plastic waters. I take it back, but I laugh, anyways. The chest full of fortune and luck opens, and inside rests the final secret to the universe. It is soon shut, and sealed away for all of eternity.
Back on Mars, your family watches as you eat a large hamburger, and tell you that you did well. You enjoy your delicious meal, and sit down at your desk.
A new line soon begins, and you are regretful of your unwise actions. I am unaware of it, but I find out the day before. The red wires tangled around your forehead electrocute you with the power of one-thousand lambs, and you are enlightened with the forbidden knowledge of 0DNTa2.
You rest upon the heads of your fallen foes, and a new path of scissors begins. I run up to you, and the information I tell you is grim.
You will not be early for the picnic.
You look into the sky and point at a car. I understand. With my understanding, I speak in sign language to the helicopters on the ground. They don't understand my message, so I hand them magnifying glasses. Now they understand. They drive off into the sun, and explode in a fiery burst.
The burst is extremely loud, and you are now deaf. As you are deaf, you no longer can consume planets. Your hunger dies, but your vengeance grows. You slap me, and I retaliate by touching your left ear. You are shocked, and begin crying out into the dark, cold, relentless day.
No one is there to help you, so you begin crawling away. In anger, I kick you into the next ocean, and there you seek to find the knowledge of the bush. You spend three years studying the perfection of the adequate grammar, and you now know my weakness. Civilization is taken over by large, cow-like aliens, and Detroit is all that is left. You go to Alaska, and there you find me. I am an alligator, so I greet you with kindness and unforgivingness. You approve. Your approval is all I need to know that I can now eat you. As you eat me, I am sushi. Whereas, you are no more than a pencil holder.
My seatbelt is unbuckled, how could it be? I could've sworn I left those notes lying around here somewhere.
Hm.
You found my long lost step brother! You tell her that my intelligence is glowing a blue, faint light, and he is anxious. Then, you see it. It is there, in front of you, in front of me! We see that one, recognizable painting. I greet you with confusion.
Wait, what just happened?
Who am I? 
How long was this going on for?
Who are you?
Why were you listening to me?
Category:WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT
Category:Pages with grammar that doesn't suck
Category:Trollpasta