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Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Detective · #2105211
This detective is in for one heck of a cuntastrophy if he doesn't get his wits about him.
Albert Squab and the Case of the Christmas Cuntastrophy Part 1

"The worst picture in everyone's house is the one above the bathroom sink."
H. Stanson the Rat Bastard

"Reach for it," commanded Squab as he held the ladder steady for Stanson.
"I cant its too big," Stanson replied, eager to get on solid ground.
Lassarus, the agencies receptionist, sauntered into the room wearing a dress so tight you could see two inches inside her.
"Watcha bois up to?" she barked.
"We are trying to get the star on top of the tree, but this coward isn't willing to make it happen," squab replied. "Its as if he hates Christmas."
Street Jack entered the room carrying a cardboard box overflowing with glass Christmas ornaments. He was so overwhelmed with Christmas cheer that he broke out in song singing Oh Holy Night.
"Hes not tall enough, you need someone taller," concluded Lassarus.
"THE STARS ARE BRIGHTLY SHINING..." sang Street Jack
"Well that's fine detective work there you ghoulish goat, but the last person that was taller than this freak took a stone to the temple from David," Squab retorted.
"Im not a giant," Stanson said under his breath.
"IT IS THE NIGHT OF OUR DEAR SAVIORS BIRTH..."
" Yeah not a giant. Your'e more like an ogre," Lassarus observed.
Squab started busting out laughing only to be quickly joined by lassarus's foul honking. He was so busted up that he began to lose his control of the ladder.
Street Jack was going to go for his finishing move. He would slide one his knees past the tree and to the fireplace to place the box effortlessly with the other decorations. At least that's how it happened in his head.
"FALL ON YOUR KNeays!!" grunted Street Jack as he fell. The box dropped from his hands and glass ornament smashed into thousands of pieces under the tree. Street Jack biffed his slide by slamming his kneecaps on the hardwood floor with all his weight.
Squab and Lassarus' laughing increased with Street Jacks shortcoming causing him to lose grip of the ladder completely. Stanson, determined to shut them up and prove he wasn't an ogre was finally will to say what he thought of the two.
"You assholes-" Stanson forced out as his ladder gave out from under him. He barreled to the floor, face first, and was met with shards of broken glass that were riddled throughout his body.
Subsequently Lassarus started laughing so hard that Squab could see the outline of her bowels descend though her body. She keeled over and sprayed a few dozen completely undigested sardines out of both of her lower orifices. Her tear of joy quickly turned to tears of shame as she could feel her prolapsed anus being grazed by her tight dress. Squab looked at her with so much hate, for he too had lost his sense of humor when the Lassarus situation had begun.
" You nasty little cunt. Your less of a person than an Auschwitz survivor," Squab roasted.
"Or a mummy," Stanson added without lifting his face from the ground.
Street Jack, Squab, and Stanson erupt with laughter and leave the room with a stronger bond than ever before. Lassarus looked on as they passed , once again sitting in her filth, reminded of the struggles all women face in a world run by men.

Merry Christmas.
© Copyright 2016 P. Parker (crustyhonches at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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