Sunday, December 11, 2011

The Stench Of Doom!

Ugh! Ever get stuck with that nasty lingering bad poon stench? You know, the kind of stink you just can't get out of your fur no matter how much Old Spice you pour on yourself. I am The Easter Bunny, and this is my story.

Last night, being short on funds and badly in need of some juice to make the marching band in my head stop playing, I decided to embark on a spree of home invasions. Usually this gets me a few bucks, but this time was different. This time I got a little more.

It was a joint on Adams just a few blocks from the river. I figured I could hit it and shoot down River Road to WalMart where I'd trade my goods to my pal, Marty for cash. It should have been a breeze. What I didn't know was SHE was home. By SHE, I mean 5 feet and three inches of TNT in a pair of Spider-Man slippers and nothing else. Yep. As soon as I crawled in the window she was there waiting for me. Unlike most folk, she didn't seem too distressed to see a snarling 6 foot bunny with a 38 appear in her bedroom. She actually seemed pretty pleased. Maybe the 45 in her hand had something to do with it. She had the drop on me, and I knew it. I was fucked. And then I was fucked again. And again. And again.

Normally I don't mind being raped at gun point by a hot chick, but this particular chick had one little problem. SHE SMELLED LIKE SHIT! I mean this bitch was fucking rank! As soon as she spread her gams the room was filled with an unholy stench that made me long for the comparatively fresh air of a porta-potty on a hot summer day. My nostrils were burning and my eyes were full of tears. I felt like I'd been snorting mustard gas.

Finally, she went to the can to drain herself and I made my escape. I was free, only she'd left me with a special gift. I now smell like a vat of rotten tuna and I can't fucking stand it! Worse, I'm worried she'll use the stench to track me back to my lair and make me hit it again! NO! NO! DON'T MAKE ME EAT IT! ARGHHHHHH!