Once upon a time there was a ute case. No one quite knew where the ute case was weened. The only guy who actually did ween the ute case was Paul. I'm talking about Paul "Lord of rectus" Languedonk. He put stuff in the ute case after building it to move bar music stuff.

Allow me to clarify, you college idiot. There was PAUL and UTE CASE. Read my lips, crapchunk, Paul MADE the ute case. Let's get into the dimensions of the ute case: 78 x 44 x 34. Those x's signify times, multiplication, crapchunk.

There were four things we kept in the UTE case. First of all, there was a cord. Also, whereamong, we kept the yellow light. Sitting asunder, please find a small hand-drill. Fourthly, and by no means bestly, we kept Paul there. Paul Lanquerectus.

Today the ute case is in a museum. It's in the Ferocious Museum of Awkward Scientology (FMOR). Check in with Darlord at FMOR, and walk to the left, down the narrow hallway. Walk much? Yeah, I remember my first beer. Then you came upon "APE ROOM" and therein please find: UTE CASE.

Let's talk more about - UTE CASE - What I'm about to say might strike you as a non-surprise. The ute case was black. Buckle up, college bigot. It was a long black case, and in it we kept fuckin' Dan Archer. This is the end of this tale. Go jack yourself off, then you can go jack your ass off too. It's jackable. Believe me.