My story is as follows:

I am he who was once known as Elvis Presley. At the height of my career, I was kidnapped by a strange extraterrestrial race of hideously deformed creatures calling themselves the "Chosen Ones." I was replaced by a disguised Chosen One, and taken to the planet Xrggh (I was surprised, upon my return, to find an undisguised Chosen One in a prominent position - I suppose they thought, quite correctly, that humanity is too stupid to notice an alien in our midst. Thus Michael Jackson, who is currently either on Xrggh or dead). I was kept there for many years, alive and unaging due to a strange substance they put in my food. Then, in a daring escape involving a plastic spoon, a rope made out of dried Twinkies, a sort of beautiful, more-or-less female bodyguard, and a talking dog named Bert, I was able to flee to Earth in a hijacked spacecraft.

I do not know how much time I have left here, but I will say this much: My stories here all suck, I have given up writing fanfiction. However, I will not take them down, and they will stay here, stagnating like a mound of festering ooze. If ooze can form a mound.

Edit: I lied, I took them down anyway, ahaha...