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To disorder, to make shapeless.

from 85 - MBUF - GAGEURE by MBUF

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lyrics

The Hail that Pounded like dying Giraffes.
A Short Story by CTB.

Bob Jones had always loved magical XXXXXXXYZ. with its jolly, joyous jungle. It was a place where he felt horny.

He was an admirable, proud, piss drinker with pointy fingernails and grubby ass. hole. His friends saw him as a selfish, scary saint.
Once, he had even revived a dying whore chicken.
That's the sort of man he was.

Bob walked over to the window and reflected on his dirty surroundings. The hail pounded like dying giraffes.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Chris Bishop. Chris was a thoughtless junkie with dirty fingernails and fragile hands.

Bob gulped. He was not prepared for Chris. His blood rushed in his glowing penis.

As Bob stepped outside and Chris came closer, he could see the aroused glint in his eye.

"Look Bob," growled Chris, with a brave glare that reminded Bob of thoughtless foxes. "It's not that I don't love you, but I want affection. You owe me 3833 gold pieces."

Bob looked back, even more delighted and still fingering his moist urethra. "Chris, I'm in love with you," he replied.

They looked at each other with concerned feelings, like two puny, pretty puppies walking at a very stable funeral, which had orchestral music playing in the background and two virtuous uncles jogging to the beat.

Bob regarded Chris's tall fingernails and fragile hands. "I don't have the funds ..." he lied.

Chris glared. "Do you want me to shove that squidgy guillotine where the sun don't shine?"

Bob promptly remembered his admirable and proud values. "Actually, I do have the funds," he admitted. He reached into his pockets.

"Here's what I owe you."

Chris looked confused, his wallet blushing like a crowded brothel.

Then Chris came inside for a nice drink of hot piss.

THE END.

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from 85 - MBUF - GAGEURE, released November 26, 2016

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