Imagine if there was Alphasmurf which claimed smurfette will make them gay
Comment on Let's set the record straight
baeb66@lemmy.today 1 day ago
Gargamel thought that introducing a woman would disrupt Smurf society. But it turns out Smurfs have two personality attributes: the one attached to their name and being very, very into dudes. It’s lore. Look it up.
thiscat@lemmy.blahaj.zone 1 day ago
SharkAttak@kbin.melroy.org 1 day ago
Thank god they can't play games online, they'd be awful.
zarathustrad@lemmy.world 1 day ago
I hear they will Smurf a Smurf right in the Smurf.
banazir@lemmy.ml 1 day ago
I have the weirdest Smurf-on right now.
SnotFlickerman@lemmy.blahaj.zone 1 day ago
Ugh I just smurfed all over myself.
SnotFlickerman@lemmy.blahaj.zone 1 day ago
That’s smurfin hot!
PattyMcB@lemmy.world 1 day ago
Smurf in my smurf while you smurf my smurf, then call me a smurfy-smurf, you smurfing smurf smurfer
zarathustrad@lemmy.world 1 day ago
A talent agent sits at his desk. A group of four smurfs walk into his office: Papa, Smurfette two others, and a cat. But they aren’t human. They are three inches tall, skin bright blue, wearing identical white trousers and floppy white hats. The agent blinks. “Alright, what’s the act?” The Papa steps forward, pulls a tiny wooden flute out of his pocket, and starts playing a bouncy, cheerful tune. “Watch this!” he shouts. Suddenly, Smurfete jumps into the air, does a triple backflip, and lands perfectly on Papa’s shoulders. The two Smurfs start doing perfectly synchronized tap-dancing, their tiny white clogs clacking rhythmically on the agent’s desk. Azrael, starts juggling three glowing, magical smurfberries using only its nose. Then, things get really extreme. The Papa stops playing the flute and starts aggressively smurfing right in the middle of the desk. He smurfs all over the place! He smurfs to the left, he smurfs to the right, and then he smurfs right into the mother’s face. The mother looks shocked, but then she turns around and absolutely smurfs the kids! The kids, not to be outdone, begin to smurf each other with total, reckless abandon. It is absolute chaos. Smurf this, smurf that, smurfing up up up, and smurfing down down down. They are smurfing the curtains, they are smurfing the paperwork, and they even start smurfing the agent’s favorite coffee mug. The room is practically overflowing with pure, unadulterated smurfery. Gargamel would be absolutely horrified. It is the most intensely smurfed thing the agent has ever seen in his entire career. Finally, they stop. They take a deep, synchronized bow. They wipe the remaining bits of smurf off their hats, smile warmly, and stand in a neat little line. The talent agent sits there, completely stunned, wiping a stray drop of blue smurf from his glasses. He clears his throat and whispers, “My goodness… that is… quite an act. What do you call yourselves?” The father smiles proudly, raises his hands to the sky, and says: “The Aristosmurfs!”