Wednesday, September 21, 2011

Chicken parts

Cootie Bob wanted a comic book where Superman cast aside his vow not to kill anyone or anything and so pulverize the entire Marvel Universe.


I want Superman to put The Hurt on all those crackling nitwits, said Cootie Bob, fuckin' A, I want him to  grab Thor's hammer, cram it up that Asgardian's puckered anal pore and then twist around nice and tight, like he were gearing up a a wind up toy. Then, said Cootie Bob, BAMLOIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGERVILLE
watch that helium grunt zig zag his tight Viking cheeks back and forth on Madison Avenue he was trying to get some action off a deranged bowling ball polisher.


This all the green apple juice you got inna fridge??? Skin Plate had just taken her face from the ice box and seemed to enjoy the nerve damage the intense cold was causing with her other wise perfect  Vogue mopiness. 


Hold, listen to that. FUCK, LOOK AT THAT. Cootie Bob was hysterical, his fingers splayed like he was modeling the grease to get the ring from the digit that gets stuck in the doorbell hole .


Outside the window a giant chicken walked passed the skyline with Superman himself pinched between the bills of the beak on its moronic beak. Superman was screaming like a silly oak with his weenie caught in a slammed car door when the chicken up ended it's head and wolfed down Superman in one great glob of blue and red , sun drenched goodness.


Cootie Bob stood there speechless, Skin Plate said one thing.


Giant Chicken? Nice...

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