(SmittySmith)
The day went on very dully. Lots of driving and the few times when a call came over the radio, Izzy was always too late to respond. Just then, a call came over the radio! A call for them! “*pssht* Officers Padding and Lopez, report back to the station.*pssht*”
Stan lit up upon hearing this. Finally! He said mentally, it seemed like action was coming his way. Izzy was surprisingly fast responding: “*pssht* Copy, we’re 10 minutes out, be there soon.*pssht*”
Stan raised a quizzical eyebrow at this. “What’re you talking about, Izzy? We’re two minutes out, if that.” He said. “I gotta finish out the playlist, I’m vibing right now, quiet down.” His lazy partner responded, while increasing the volume on her phone. Stan tried to keep it together but Izzy had waned on him all day and he just couldn’t take it anymore. “Oh for God’s sake, really?! You’ve wasted the whole day! Ignored me completely! Now, a chance for something interesting happens and you- AAH!” He tried to say, as a now irritated Izzy slapped the bottom of his chair sending him plummeting.
Stan screamed as he fell perfectly into an indent in the pleather that was all too familiar to him. “Wait! Wait! Wai- mmmmrrrgggg!” He tried to say. Izzy slammed her butt down hard and proceeded to grind her cheeks backs and forth to really accentuate her irritation. “I warned you, man. And on a day when I’ve had ice cream, you know what that does to me.” She said. Stan’s world was an intense amount of pressure from two impossibly massive boulders grinding him into dust. The musky stale stench of her plushy black clad cheeks permeated his beaten form. He was paper thickness upon impact, now her felt more like tattoo thin. To make matters worse, Izzy let him see light, then callously farted on him, not a long one but a big enough punch of wind to make his ecosystem in her crack awful. “*pssht* Dispatch, ran into some traffic, expect us in 20 minutes instead of 10.*pssht*” Stan would groan if he could upon hearing this, he hated when Izzy wanted to teach him a lessom.
The 20 minutes went by, feeling more like 20 hours for Stan. Izzy pulled up into the station’s parking lot and got out. “Alright, pipsqueak, let’s…” She started to say before noticing he was nowhere to be seen. Confused at first she looked into her side mirror and saw a little Stan sticker. “Tch. You wanna ride in the trunk, that’s on you.” she said hiking up her pants, sealing him back into darkness as he was now currently in a wedgie.
Wonder what they want? the stain of a man thought in his buttcrack torture chamber.
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