Despicable Derelicts

2

Stuart had just gotten back to the lair. It was bustling with stubby little minions. He pushed his way past, intent on meeting with an old friend; a rather beneficial one...

Once he made his way down to the nightclub, pushing through the sea of blinding lights, he made his way to the pub. He sat down on a vacant stool, cushioned in velvet. The bartender, Bob, served him a jug of banana vodka - Stuart came often enough for Bob to remember his usual - and he took a sip. Bitter, lukewarm, bits of mold floating over the top; just how he liked it. He felt a gentle nudge against his side.
"Hey, chookin... It's me..."
"O-otto!"
Stuart instantly recognised that voice; so deep, so melodic. He had his own jug in his hand, almost emptied. By his unsteady disposition, one could tell he was inebriated.
"How 'bout we go to my room, yeah?"
His breath stunk so good, Stuart tried to get an extra whiff.
"L-Lead the way, Papacita~"
So soon! He followed Otto to a small room, barred like a cage for some reason; anyone could see through! As he was lead in, Stuart examined the room: It was small, but cozy. The steaming pile of greenish-brown liquid(?) heated the room, which sat next to a bucket. It looked like it had been there a while. Otto ripped off his overalls after clearly struggling to remove them.
"O-Otto! So soon-!"
"Yes, bubba... I'm feelin' naughty..."
His face was going purple and he was groaning, clearly troubled with something.
"P-Papacita! What's wro-"
A huge, green-ish chunk of a brown substance crawled out of his petite hole. Soon, that wouldn't be the only thing inside it!
Stuart noticed his blood had been pumping for a while now; 'Just do it,' he told himself with a heavy sigh.