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Corey Phoebus was a wee little man, and a wee little man was he. He climbed up in a sycamore tree to see what he could see. From that sycamore tree, he saw a golden opportunity. The opportunity explanation will come later. Chill. Lets go to the beginning.

 

Corey Phoebus was born in Moscow, Russia on February 30th 1922. No one knows who his birth parents were, because they had left him, in a cold, snow filled field. Why did they leave him you ask? Red Lobster was having a 2 for $20 special that would end in 8 minutes. A third party would rob them of those glorious cheesy biscuits, and the extra weight of a baby would slow them down. Not to worry, the young man now known as “Phoebus”, was scooped up by a pack of wild Canadian lesbians, who lost him in a grocery store at the corner of 5th and Crescent St. in Detroit MI. He was sold as an avocado to a man named Mr. Miagi. Miagi parented this young man the right way. He sent young Phoebus to school, to church, taught him the art of ju jitsu, taught him how to be a man. Once as Miagi and Phoebus thought their lives couldn’t get any better, they were robbed at gun point. Everything from poke’mon cards, to their collection of rubber bands, was gone. They had no choice but to flee the country. What country was that? You guessed it. Russia. It all came back to Phoebus. Every waking minute of his baby years came back to him. This sent Phoebus into a fit of uncontrollable rage, which fueled his cage fighting career until he was 19 years old. On his very last day of fighting, the champion of Moscow demanded that he fight Phoebus. Phoebus was hesitant, but accepted the offer. Needless to say, Phoebus won, after ripping the left arm clean off of his opponents shoulder, which gave him the nick name, Phoebus, it means small strong dude in Russian. That was Phoebus’ last fight. He then realized fighting wasn’t for him. This young man thought he had no place to go, no hope left in the world away from fighting. It was until then, he saw a sycamore tree. Since Phoebus is moderately brain dead and has the attention span of a flea, he just had to climb this tree. From said tree, he looked out, and saw a number of red blinking lights. He was determined to find out what those lights were. Those lights, led him to the towers of Great Scott Broadcasting, where he currently resides, pretends to know what he’s talking about, and constantly annoys his surrounding peers. He’s currently leading a lonely life, but hides his loneliness behind Royal Farms cheeseburger sliders. The End.

 

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