Creation Story of the Randites

Before there was nothing and prior to their being things to exist within that nothing that was the Lord of Chaos known to only himself as the Randy. This primordial being was naught more than the creative element extant in all things and as it were could create all from only a thought. But the Randy slept for what would have been eons and eternities had there been such a thing as time.

And it came to pass that Randy awoke and first breathed his words of creation in to the nothing. “Let there be a bong, and this bong shall be called Ra-Ur.” And so there was and the bong was of enormous dimensions, as the Randy’s capacity for smoke was infinite.

But the Randy found that being one of the only two things, he and his bong, there was nothing to smoke in the blackness, so Randy spoke again. “Let there be a plant, the bud which I may smoke and thusly be high on the greatness I am, and the drugs whose smoke I have created.”
And thusly the bong filled with weed and the Randy was pleased for he saw that all in his creation was pure and holy. “Fire is all I need now to complete the universe and then I will get high and make a couch to sit on and play video games all day…sweet,” thusly spoke our lord, Randy.

And so he smoked and smoked and smoked and smoked and smoked until the hazy fog of our lord Randy’s grace created the clouds that float in the sky, and the sky above the clouds. And the ashes from his bowl became the firmament and the lands and upon these lands roamed a great many small creatures that the Lord had imagined while high, like the manatee and the platypus (along with every other animal in Australia). And the discarded bong water created the lakes and the streams and the seas. The Randy marveled at all of this through the thick haze of the sky and spoke his first word to his creation; “awesome.” Following this, the Randy rested.

Upon awakening the Randy had a powerful urge to have a penis, and then, to fuck something with it. And so a great purple cock sprouted from the center of the Randy’s forehead, all pulsating and covered in veins. It was then that Randy spotted the primeval bong, Ra-Ur and he knew what he had to do. Before long he was hittin that shit raw dawg in the suck hole and man but it was good! After weeks of thrusting and pounding the Randy was satisfied with his performance and rolled over to go take his rest.

When he awoke he found that within the bong a mixture of resin and semen had created several small creatures which, from the looks of it had not lived through their creation. It was then the Randy was struck with an idea. He put his lips to the great bong and began to suck up the greatest hit he had ever conceived. And the people inside of the bong were lifted from the water and into the Randy great lungs. They tickled the back of his throat and made him cough. He spit the phlegm into the great admixture of ashes and bong water, and the great sperm, snot, bong water creature was moving within the yellow film upon the land.

The Randy then spoke to his creation. “I am the Randy. I am the God of all. You will obey me because I created you and if you don’t I will smite the fuck out of you. You will not smoke any of my weed. If you want weed you can grow the shit for yourselves.” And that is how the Randy taught the people agriculture. “You I will call man, because that name just seems to make sense to me. As long as you don’t fuck with my weed, we’ll be cool, unless I decide to smite one or a hundred of you for fun, then we’ll still be cool because you assholes can’t do shit about it.” Upon saying this the Randy curled up with his bong and rested, not to awaken again until the great yellow flood.