• Dude, it starts like this: One cold a** day, a hot chick, like, was sittin’ by a window, doing, you know, something. She, like, saw a black raven and, you know, cut herself on something. Some blood dripped onto the snow. She liked the colors so flippin’ much that she, like, said to herself:“If only I could, like, have a child whose skin was, you know, white as snow, with hair, like, black as a raven, and lips as red as blood.” The hot chick might have been, you know, like, an emo vampire or som’n.

    Soon enough, that hot chick gave birth, and the kid was, like, everything she had wished for, so she named the thing Snow White. But the hot chick dies somehow a few years later, so that hot chick don’t matter no mo’e! And Snow’s papa got hooked up wit another chick.

    But the new hot chick was, like, full of herself. And she talked to a mirror. Dude, she’s a weirdo. She would always ask it,

    “Shiny thing, shiny thing, on the wall,

    Who is, like, the prettiest of all?”


    And the trippy mirror would always reply,

    “You, Babe, are the prettiest one of all!”


    The hot chick would smile when she heard, because that weird, trippy mirror always spoke the truth. She has it whipped! As the years, like, went by, Snow grew prettier and prettier, until one day, when the old hot chick, like, asked that mirror that question, the mirror replied,

    “You, Babe, are pretty, it’s true,

    But that one chick is hotter than you!”


    Oh, snap! The old hot chick was pissed. She hated Snow now, man! Finally, she called for, like, a hunter dude, and told him to take Snow and kill her in, you know, the woods.

    “Cut out her perty lil’ heart and bring it back to me to prove she is dead,” the old hot chick commanded with a… sudden, random accent.

    The hunter dude was sad. He liked Snow, but he had to obey the old hot chick. That’s bad luck man! The dude took Snow into the woods and pulled his knife. Snow was, you know, terrified. The hunter couldn’t bring himself to do it, so he, like, told her to run and killed a deer. He cut out the things ‘pretty lil’’ heart and took that back to the icky, old, hot chick. Dude, that’s gross.

    So, like, on her own, Snow was scird. She, you know, went places. Then she found, like, a little house. She knocked, but when no one answered, she walked in. I don’t think that’s legal, man! Inside was, like, a room that was neat and clean, with, like, seven forks and seven spoons and seven plates, with food, and seven cups, man. And she was hungry and thirsty, so she ate and drank a little from every plate and cup. Awkward much!

    Beyond the table were, like, seven beds. She fell asleep on the last one, because it was, like, the comfiest.

    Little did she know, it was the house of seven little dudes. The seven little dudes were pissed about someone eating and drinking bits of their stuff, but when they found her on the last bed, she was, you know, too pretty to bother.

    Snow woke the next morning and, like, told the little dudes her story. “I have no pad, now,” she said sadly. The little dudes offered for her to stay at their pad. Snow agreed happily saying, “Coolio! Your pad is so neato!” So Snow cooked and cleaned for them whenever they went off to work to earn her keep.

    Dude, zoom back to the old hot chick. She’s talkin’ to that mirror again,

    “Shiny thing, shiny thing, on the wall,

    Who is, like, the prettiest one of all?”


    The mirror answered with,

    “You, Babe, are pretty, it’s true,

    But that one chick is still hotter than you!”


    She was pissed because that hunter dude had lied to her. Dude, he’s screwed. The hot chick disguised herself as, like, an old apple seller, and like, put a poison in one side of an apple and went to the cottage of the seven little dudes after they left, man.

    She knocked on the door and Snow answered. “Would you, like, want this cool lil’ apple? It’s like, yummy.”

    Snow answered with an, “I’unno. Is it truly yummy?”

    The old hot chick nodded and took a bite from the, you know, non-poisoned side. So Snow smiled and also took a bite. She got a mouthful of poison. The old hot chick, like, laughed evilly dude, like, “Bwa-hahahahahahaha!”

    The crazy, old, hot chick went home and talked to the mirror again, frickin’ parrot,

    “Shiny thing, shiny thing, on the wall

    Who is, like, the prettiest one of all?”


    The weird a** mirror answered with,

    “You, Babe, are the prettiest of all!”


    Like, years passed, and tales of Snow’s beauty spread far, dude, because the seven little dudes had put her in, like, a glass coffin. Dude… that’s just weird. And some pretty boy came to see her, and like, fell in love with her. Dude! He fell in love with a corpse! So the pretty boy asked to kiss her, and the little dudes agreed, “Fo’ real… twetty bucks dude.”

    So, like, the pretty boy paid and lifted Snow up a bit, and that old piece of apple fell from her mouth. Dude, EW! She stirred. Oh, snap. She’s alive. ZOMBIE!

    “Like, where am I, man? I must of went to one trippy party, dude,” Snow asked, looking at the pretty boy.

    “You are, like, safe with me, babeh,” the pretty boy replied, bobbing his head, and Snow fell for him. Probably tripped getting out of the flippin’ coffin, man.

    Now, back to that even older, less hot chick. Still crazy, she’s still talking to the mirror:

    “Shiny thing, shiny thing, on the wall

    Who is, like, the prettiest one of all?”


    And the mirror answered with:

    “You, Babe, are pretty, it’s true

    But that one chick is still hotter than you!”


    Oh, snap! The crazy lady got evicted because she was crazy and probably doing drugs. Oh, double snap, dude.

    Snow and that pretty dude got like, married, and like, she moved into his pad. A.K.A: she left the seven little dudes.

    The End!

    Oh, snap!