The death of American soup

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The city is a destructive force. It developed out of thin layers of iron, whilst the man with the pipe looked on.

One day in Yoon it all stopped and Jerry considered buying a flat in Spain. "I'll set up a nice tax haven" he thought.

Chapter 1[edit]

He looked at his dangling feet and sipped his Martini under the shade of a yellow sunscreen.

"This is the life" he thought. Yes this WAS the life indeed. This was a nice tax haven and one a banker could happily spend the rest of his life in.

Suddenly, the flight of the Valkyries started playing but it was coming from nowhere.

"Strange," Jerry thought, unaware of the helicopters advancing towards him.

And then...[edit]

A hail of bullets rained down upon him sending blood spurting from all possible areas of his chubby little body.

The helicopter was laden with dead donkeys. A short little man emerged from the chopper. It was Jerry. He stared in contempt at his own corpse.