Wednesday, October 14, 2015


“It’s gonna be YUUUGE! YUUUGE! I swear! But it might take a minute!” Donald rasped. His hair smirked at his limp penis.

“It’s fine,” Hillary said. “It happens to all guys. Just hurry up. I can only act like this is a faggoty-ass pancake breakfast for so long before the Benghazi Committee will add it to the agenda.” She toyed with Donald’s ball cap, twirling it around her finger.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” the hat moaned.

“I guarantee you won’t be the first thing that’s ever thrown up in this chick’s lap,” Donald’s hair said.

“Am I at least doing a good job, Mommy?” Donald asked. “Am I distracting them like you and Daddy told me too?”

“Yes, Donny. You’re doing a very good job of being a dumbass,” Hillary told him. “And you’re going to be ‘yuge,’ I promise.” She threw the hat down and parted her vast thicket of pubic hair. Her labia parted with the sad grumble of old Velcro and her gnarled clitoris emerged. “Does this help? Are you getting hard, Donny?”

“I’ll get hard for you, Mommy. Donny will get YUUUGE for Mommy!”

“This is disgusting,” his hair said.

“It really is,” said the hat from the floor. “At least I’m half under the bed. All I have to see is her horrible thighs. They’re quivering, dude. Quivering.”

“I really hope he doesn’t go down on her,” the hair said. “It smells like a litter box down there.”

“I’m trying to CONCENTRATE!” Donald yelled at them both.

“I know you are,” Hillary said. “Mommy is very proud of you.” She lifted her legs for him and farted like a startled trumpet.

“OH GOD, YES!” Donald gurgled and sucked in the miasma.

“What in the name of all holy fuck does this old whore eat?” Donald’s hair managed.

“Huma,” the hat chortled. “And whatever rancid cockcheese Michelle leaves all over Barry.”

“Oh, fuck. Don’t make me laugh,” the hair choked out. “It’s so thick up here I swear I can taste it.”

“You don’t have a tongue,” the hat said.

“You think that matters? You get up here and soak in the hot garbage coming out of her horrid nethers for a while.”

“Please be quiet,” Donald whispered.

“What was that?” Hillary asked, looking up from her phone.

“Nothing, Mommy,” Donald said. He began to twirl his flaccid tycoon like a lasso, hoping to rouse it from its frightened slumber.

No comments:

Post a Comment