To say the very least...

Thought I'd play around with words a little bit. I used something similar to bluff my way through an English Exam.
Submit something similar, I'unno, it might be funny.
Like mine might be.

Things were bad, to say the least. In fact, to say the very least, 'Things.' Unfortunately, this doesn't appropriately describe the horror of the situation, and should be stricken from the record books for inadequate story telling.
To say the most, things had adversely descended to the point of being the opposite of good, which made many a man, or woman, feel quite the reverse of safe and happy.

In English; something bad had happened, and people were scared.

It seems that an immensely, giantly, massively BIG moth was dining on the moon, chowing down on the lunar landscape, chomping on the night-sun and eating Earth's satellite. Rare. 
"Eating the moon?!" I hear you ask, well, yes. It turns out that moths have an odd affection for the taste of space dust. This was only recently discovered, when a scientist decided it would be rather humorous to make a large moth to scare his mother.
The consequences were dire.

The moth orignally started off with a wing span of one metre, but this rapidly expanded.
Every time someone frowned, something set off the growth DNA in the experimental insect causing it to expand by 2.4873%.
(Some philosophers believe it to be proof that god is in fact a sarcastic sentient being, while internet followers believe it was a god who did it for "teh lulz")

Obviously, with the interesting state of the world at this point in time, many people frown regularly. We now know these as "The worst people ever" and they should be immediately tied up and thrown into pits of happy faces whenever they frown at questionable humor.
(I mean, how could you NOT find someone being hit by a flying shoe amusing?)

Anyway, back to the point. The very sharp, moderately interesting, and semi-humorous pint. Pint? I could do with one right now. But I did actually mean point.
You can't really have a humorous story where the point is a pint.
Silly idea.

So, a freakus largus mothus was nomming down on the moon, which we all know is the only reason people foil night-crime, such as happy-slappery, and pick-pockettery,
This single piece of evidence shows that the moon is good, we need it. and I should be given lots of money.

This led some goverments (Looking at you, NATO ¬¬) to decide that the moth needed to be stopped in its midnight eaterie of our glowing night-companion.
The conclusion? Send a big ass mother'ucking rocket at the massive mother'ucking moth, and then blow the mother'ucker straight back to nowhere.

So they did.

And it worked.


Wasn't that an anti-climax?
I bet you were expecting more, eh?

The End

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