A Tale About Soda

The narrator:1

I will start this tale by informing you that I have a strange disease causing me sometimes to go competely mad for no reason, and that any inconvenience the reader should have with reading this little piece of CRAP! is solely because of that. 2

So, here goes my little tale:3

George was a handsome man in his fourties, well-trained, well-educated, smart as a whip... But there was something dark about him. He was in fact a serial killer who at night struck anf dflef ghi put weird shoe swfgh boxeeees on the top of gdsj cxwefr ds Hitler was also invollved infsgdhyujyh sdas ewwr vgfd aad in some of the latter goose brtiv dg dagger fdi viiger adkg4

He was a lawyer who earned a lot of money, and seemed like a nice guy. Problem was, he just wasn't. He had a scary cellar where his victims would be slit by knives andg hgvc you saw retfdh fwrin bius adsf like a howling fromgtr derthrf as he told themes fdgf by doing that from wer ggfs hivbifrith dskg vaaaah dfdgu r 5

Once there was a victim who got away. And George tried and tried to find him, but seemed like wfddg graitfs wherever he looked aswdf greetihuj just had no ged hjuie drbn afgir idea whre to look for agjd and forks had to be feif algfm sldflkd fdlkmfdg asld away in the night like dg fdg rejgds ahhd dsjdfi help me asffdg 6

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