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| − | The Twisted Kids are a group of kids that live in a Promithios warehouse. They are all mutated because their parents were the scientists that discovered the Disease. They can communicate with the Disease like [[Paul Channing|Paul]] and [[Mad Matt]] |
+ | The Twisted Kids are a group of kids that live in a Promithios warehouse. They are all mutated because their parents were the scientists that discovered the [[The Disease|Disease]]. They can communicate with the Disease like [[Paul Channing|Paul]] and [[Mad Matt]]. They first appear in [[The Fallen]] and reappear in [[The Hunted]] and [[The End]]. They often sing the Twisted Kids Song. |
== The Twisted Kid's Song Lyrics == |
== The Twisted Kid's Song Lyrics == |
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We're freaks and that is plain for all to see! |
We're freaks and that is plain for all to see! |
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| − | Our guts hang out, we scare good folk, |
+ | Our guts hang out, we scare good folk, |
We're God's bad joke, the moulds got broke, |
We're God's bad joke, the moulds got broke, |
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[[Category:The Fallen characters]] |
[[Category:The Fallen characters]] |
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[[Category:The Hunted characters]] |
[[Category:The Hunted characters]] |
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| − | [[Category:The End |
+ | [[Category:The End characters]] |
| − | [[Category:The |
+ | [[Category:The Disease]] |
[[Category:The Twisted Kids]] |
[[Category:The Twisted Kids]] |
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| − | [[Category:Not-finished-yet pages]] |
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Latest revision as of 14:29, 31 July 2019
The Twisted Kids are a group of kids that live in a Promithios warehouse. They are all mutated because their parents were the scientists that discovered the Disease. They can communicate with the Disease like Paul and Mad Matt. They first appear in The Fallen and reappear in The Hunted and The End. They often sing the Twisted Kids Song.
The Twisted Kid's Song Lyrics
"We are the Twisted Kids. Tit-fed gits, the gifted twits!
We are the screwed up, twisted kids.
Our backs are bent, our knees bend back,
Our heads have tails, our bones are whack.
We're freaks and that is plain for all to see!
Our guts hang out, we scare good folk,
We're God's bad joke, the moulds got broke,
With arses where our elbows ought to be...
We are the Twisted Kids. Twisted gits, the gifted twits!
We are the screwed-up, twisted kids,
Our life's a joke, our legs are crap,
We try to walk but slip and slap.
You wouldn't want to ask us round for tea..."