The neighbor of the beast...
saved by the Belle
Because she's a Southern Belle
Taco Belle
But my wife says I'm just beating a dead horse.
The movie later earned a 'No Belle' prize
Hermione fell
The No Belle prize
Belle-oney!
He makes a great watch
He had experience in molecular Gastonomy.
Me: Don't worry son, I'll sing you a lullaby.
Me: Hush little baby, don't say a word.
Me: And never mind that noise you heard.
Me: It's just the beasts, under your bed.
Me: In your closet, IN YOUR HEEEEEEAAAAD!
Me: EXIIIITTT LIIIIGGGHHHT!!!! ...... EEENNTTTERRRR NIIIIGGGHHT!!!
taken from dad jokes
One's a funny beast and the other is a bunny feast.
They crept in. It was pitch black and stone quiet. They were suddenly starting to regret this dare. Stupidly, only one brought a flash light. The aggressive darkness and inky black yielded with grudging compliance but always seeming to push back. They moved cautiously onward amid the dust and cobwebs. The floor creaked. They breathed in tight, quick breaths. You could hear a pin drop.
Suddenly, there was a deep moan. "OOOOOOOOUUUUU". It seemed from below them. The house had been abandoned for years. Who or what could make such a sound? The boys looked at each other, but continued on, hearts pounding in their chests.
As they proceeded into the kitchen they encountered a swarm of flies. Buzzing and beating their necks and faces, they rushed and stumbled to the door, not stopping to see what they were truly feasting on. They slammed the door behind them. Maybe a body? But no way were they going back to find out. And again came the sound, "ooooOOOOOooooOOUUU" but louder this time, and closer.
They proceeded through the dark into the dining room. They saw a fully set dining table covered in cob webs. Dust-covered regal-looking glasses, goblets and silverware adorned the table. Spiders climbed on ivory plates. Clearly a house of privilege and set for a grand feast which never happened.
Or, perhaps, met a fatal end?
They pushed on. But again that unearthly howl.
"oooooOOOOOOOOOOOUuuuuUUUUuuUUOOOOooo".
They found the basement staircase, and from below, the sounds seemed to be emanating. Could they proceed? Would they? Did they dare? Two of the boys looked at each other, faces filled with worry.
But the third said, confidently, "We're going down there." Not wanting to seem the weaker, the other two boys steeled themselves and nodded.
The stairs creaked and groaned evily under their feet. The rickety banister shook in angry defiance. Insects and vermin scattered underneath them with every step. They were descending into hell, they knew, but none would turn back.
And the sound: "oOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUUuuuuUUOOOO". Now loud enough to fill not only their heads but seeming to claw at their very souls!
Now at the basement door! The antique, crying squeak of the hinges eeeeeeEEEEEEEEEEee made the boys wince and almost cover their ears. But they had to know. WHAT is making that horrible, terrible sound?
"ooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOUUUUUUUoooooUUUUUUUOOOOOOO"
In the center of the basement lay an unholy coffin! A twisted artistic expression of murder, decay and
... keep reading on reddit β‘Trevor loved tractors. And I mean, really loved tractors. Forget any obsessions or high-level interests you may have, chances are they pale in the face of Trevorβs love for tractors.
Every day Trevor would get up, in his tractor-themed bedroom in his tractor-themed house, with its tractor-themed wallpaper and tractor-themed carpets, and he would make his bed with its tractor-themed duvet and tractor-themed sheets. He would go downstairs in his tractor-themed pajamas into his tractor-themed kitchen, with its tractor-themed tiles and cupboards, and he would eat his breakfast while perusing the latest tractor-themed magazine or annual.
Trevorsβs degree in Agricultural Engineering hung on his living room wall, along with a copy of his thesis, which centred around (you guessed it) tractors. The living room was decorated with all sorts of tractor-related trinkets, including die-cast models, paintings and drawings.
The hedges in Trevorβs front garden were trimmed in the shape of tractors. His lawn was vividly decorated with tractor-driving garden gnomes, and his garden furniture was constructed from various parts from vintage tractor designs.
Trevor just had one thing missing from his otherwise tractor-centric life; he had never actually owned, nor driven, a real tractor.
Not for his lack of trying, of course. Trevor had been to many tractor shows over the years, and visited many farms with friends of his, but none of the tractors he had seen had ever been quite right. Trevor was so knowledgeable about tractors that every single one he had come across had possessed some hidden trait that he wasnβt keen on. His first experience of driving a real tractor had to be perfect.
One day, Trevor was flicking through one of his favourite publications, Powertrain Quarterly, when there was a knock at the door. Trevor answered, and it was his friend and fellow tractor enthusiast, Jeff.
Trevor welcomed Jeff in, and over tea and crumpets served on tractor-themed crockery, they discussed the merits of aluminium drawbars and front-end loaders. Eventually Trevor pressed Jeff to explain the reason for his visit.
βWellβ said Jeff, βAs Iβm sure you know the convention comes to town laterβ.
The convention. Trevor had been thinking of little else the past three weeks. The neighbouring town annually threw a convention for farmers, particularly farmyard machinery. There would be combine harvesters, lawnmowers, and of course, tractors.
βYes of courseβ replied Trevor
... keep reading on reddit β‘...The number of the Feast
At first the curse just brought him bad luck, causing vital equipment to break and provoking frequent but small injuries to him and his crew. Soon, however, the curse darkened and diggers the man had hired to help work his claim began to die in bizarre ways.
One was killed by an African scorpion that should never have made it to Alaska, let alone have survived the cold. A second drank a gallon of the mercury used to separate the gold from the ore. A third was found with a tree growing up through his body.
The man himself who owned the claim became more and more pale. His eyes became all white. His skin began to give off an overpowering smell of sulfur. He slept all day and at night he wandered the mountain above his claim, coming back each day looking more like a beast than a man.
The curse became so bad the last worker alive ran away to the nearest town to tell the authorities what was happening at the claim.
In an attempt to save the claim owner's life and lift the curse, a priest was brought in by dogsled to perform an exorcism on the man.
A sherriff from the town came with the priest as a bodyguard.
The exorcism was long, but apparently successful. Immediately the man's color returned, the sulfur smell disappeared, and he was able to sleep through the night for the first time in six months.
After the man awoke, the sherriff immediately arrested the man and brought him back to town with the priest. Standing in front of the judge, the sherriff was asked what charge the law had against the claim owner whose life had just been so dramatically turned around.
The sherriff looked at the man, then looked back at the judge and said in a slow and rumbling voice, "Possession as a miner."
Two of them were still apprentices and learning the trade, but the third was a master at the craft and was also my friend. They were currently busy in the workshop working on a set of great wooden letters which spelled "BEAST". "Is your friend Paul the one working on the misshapen B?" Izzy asked. "Nope, that's not him.", I replied. "So is it the one working on the crooked E?"she responded. "Most certainly not!" I answered. I finally saw him and exclaimed, "On ST is the best Paul, Izzy!"
Since its a big, it was touching the ground my whole time. I turn to my wife and say "Did you know T-Rex are mythical beasts? See it's a draggin'"
... is reliving the same day over and over in "Bourne Again"
... travels to the past to stop a terrorist attack in "Bourne yesterday"
... finally settles down and has a baby in "New Bourne"
... de-evolves into a feral beast who prowls the wilderness in "Bourne to be Wild"
Firstly, I think they really missed a trick naming these films.
Secondly... I know there are more of these...
Last week he caught a huge sea creature in the river there and made it into sausage.
It was the beast of Thames. It was the wurst of Thames.
One day, the cow left a fake skeleton in the field, and the farmer thought the cow got torn apart by wild beasts. Sighing as he dropped his shotgun, he said,"Great. How am I gonna have beef with you?"
The scene is playing where Luke is hanging upside down and just managed to defeat the beast on Hoth by cutting off its arm.
Dad: Well you know why they call it a Wampa now.
Me: Why?
Dad: Because it only has one-paw.
Me: Uses Force Groan
Winner of the No-Belle prize.
