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Rated: GC · Short Story · Comedy · #2073581
It'll be tough for Squab to get out of this pinch, If you know what I'm saying.
Albert Squab and the Mystery of the Phallic Flownder

"Times are hard, but I'm harder."
-H. Stanson the Rat Bastard

It was dark. Harsh winds pulled at Lassaruss' short red dress, just hinting at the kind of bod that bony bitch was packing. She was trying to hear what the popcorn vendor was saying over the intense boom of thunder and the howling of wind. She had nipples as hard as adamantium and was dripping with cold water. This was the closest she had ever come to taking a shower.
"THAT WILL BE $9.99," yelled the vendor.
"OKAY," Lassaruss screached as she pulled out a ten.
You are probably wondering why someone might be getting popcorn in the middle of the night. You are not alone in this, for Albert Squab and Handsome Stanson often berated Lassarus for her strange habit.
A dark figure approaches the transaction as her loose bag of popcorn, as one could only expect, blew away with the wind in a fantastical manner. Lassarus, thoroughly defeated turns to see the face of the figure with tears of regret streaming across her cheeks. The figure grabbed her by her bony arms and took her all the way to pound town. Thats right he, "gave her the business" or"tore her a new asshole," if you will. He then dumped her corpse of a living body on the ground, neiled down close, and whispered, "That ones on the house."
Lassarus quivers as she orgasms and, not suprisingly, shits all over her desk chair. It seems the whole altercation transpired inside a disgusting fantasy of hers. Shame catches up with the nasty desk rat and she panics. Lassarus takes a glace though the window into Squabs office and sees that, as per usual, no one gave a desk rats ass about what she was doing. So there she sat in her filth wondering why she was the way she was. She cleans up the mess and continues to wait for calls.
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