Remedy for strings

Its a low lying pit with two inhabitants. Strings batter their way towards dusk.

"Hello, are you welcomed by officials?" Asked string. The former battered his way across a river. The effective battle was a string quartet. Marshland seemed stringy with likelihood of drool.

"Was you aware of it?" Asked office. The latter awnsered with a formal biscuit mixture. "No" said string.

Champ

Stringy memory life. It was too memory to string them up. Pasta was on the menu, so something should have ensued.

BLOOD AND DEATH BEAT STRINGS BACK TO MEMORY DUST, LIKE A MAROONED COW ON BEEFY SUBSTANCE. CARRY ON MATRON!