Tuesday, September 27, 2016

anticipatory pain management

“You will crush him. You will destroy him. You will make him a laughingstock,” Huma said into the mirror.

“I will crush him. I will destroy him. I will make him a laughingstock,” Hillary said into the mirror. Huma ran the flat of hand along the black bristle of clitorii that had sprouted between Hillary’s shoulder blades. Hillary shivered with dark pleasure.



“You will crush her,” the hat said into the mirror. “You will destroy her,” the hair said into the mirror. “You will make her a laughingstock,” they said in unison. Donald was holding them up, each perched on a different fist.

“I will crush her. I will destroy her. I will make her a laughingstock,” Donald said. 300 milligrams of Viagra made his penis jut out of his elaborately-coiffed pubic hair like an angry thumb.



“Don’t be robotic, my love,” Huma whispered. “Be the warm and loving portal for the Elder Gods to corrupt this dimension that I know you to be.”

“10 HASTUR,” Hillary said. “20 GOTO 10.”


“Woo!” the hair screamed.

“Debated prepped, motherfuckers!” the hat screamed back.

Donald basted them both with champagne.

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