The spade’s head had clanged into his visage with appalling force, and as he realised that his right cheekbone would never be repaired, he felt that he now had carte blanche to unload his rectum too, the resulting log soon tumbling out of his shorts and slumping indecorously onto the beautifully-lacquered oak parquet.
He had not forgotten for a moment that the penalty for abandoning his post was summary execution, but those oiled cajungas were so large and inviting. Even as the bullet tore through his brain, the memory of that warm booby flesh pressed around his wanger seemed like the sweetest vindication, and he knew that history would look upon him more understandingly than his frigid commanders ever had.
As I was going to St. Ives, I met a man with seven wives. Every wife had seven sacks. Every sack had seven cats. Every cat had seven kittens. Kittens, cats, sacks and wives, how m- PPFFFFLLLLLRRRBBB!!! Ahhhhh baby. Ahhh that was a fucking fart and a half! Oh, God. Actually, it really was a fart and a half : a little extra had come out. But hey, he was at home alone, so he could just go wash the brown muck out of his pants and sit on the loo for a proper go. Ah, he was enjoying the bachelor life. He might even just throw the pants away!
He sprinted after Terry, rounding the corner just in time to see his friend vaulting a high wall. Without hesitation, he put a foot on a conveniently-placed black bin and flung himself over the wall too, desperate to close in and get the ball back. But where Terry had the agility of a cat, John landed a bit awkwardly and instantly shattered his spinal column, collapsing helplessly to the floor, never to stand again.
Oh, it was perfect. The feeling from the pill she had taken half an hour ago had just reached the very top of her spine and a gorgeous sensation now exploded through her head just as a thick, pulsating bassline came in to fill the gaps between the beats. She had closed her eyes. Now she opened them again, and it was as though everyone around her had experienced the same rush of joy. Everyone she met eyes with looked back at the same moment and everything was pure approval. They seemed to move together. Everyone glistened with moisture. The floor seemed to vibrate, the bass, the beat and the bodies all moving in sync. Then, unbelievably, Jess appeared from behind to hand her a cold bottle of water too. Neither of them stopped moving to the music and their smiles to one another spoke of love. The cold water slid down her throat. The sensation seemed like a god-given consummation of her life. The whole situation was perfect. Well… it would be if someone hadn’t dropped their gut, anyway. Even that wouldn’t have been so bad if they hadn’t clearly eaten way too much salt. Actually… oh, God, it wasn’t just hot air they’d released. There was an actual log on the floor among the dancing feet. Then one of them trod straight on it and tumbled wildly to the floor. Oh, for fuck’s sake. Suddenly she awoke in her damp bedsit and, crestfallen, realised that it had all been a dream. All except the hot turd, anyway – and, alone as she was, she couldn’t even blame anyone else for that.
As if one big spunky hunk wasn’t enough, she’d landed herself two, and now here she lay, slobbering all over one of their poles while the other one absolutely ransacked her already poorly-composed flangeinal opening.
She pointed the gun at his face, but he anticipated it and knocked the barrel downwards just as she fired. His quick response saved his life and left him only having to contend with a fairly clean wound through the leg and an utterly devastated ballbag.
He pooed himself so hard and with such an alarmingly explosive sound that someone yanked the emergency lever in panic and brought the train to a screeching halt exactly halfway between Gallions Reach and Beckton.
“Oh, please!” she exploded. “Seriously? Seriously, though? Is that it?”
There was no point asking, though. Of course that was it, unless it was a prosthetic and he’d somehow strapped his real one underneath. And why would he do that? He was the one trying to get it on with her. After hours of persistence and booze, she’d relented. He was, she felt, letting her down now. She reached in and felt around his legs, barse and crack. Nope, that really was it. It was tiny.
As she finally accepted the truth, she threw back her head and roared with laughter. “Oh… oh my God. Oh, seriously, that’s too funny. You total loser. Get the fuck out of my house, right now.”
His wife begged him to spaff on her outstretched tongue, and he promised that he would just as soon as he finished balling her grandmother up against the bannisters. Wifey would have to wait for her 60th anniversary present.