Inglorious Impostor Presents: The Astonisher's Return

Good O'l Pal

Nostalgic Anon. Ending ( they all grow up nice and strong.
But only the lucky ones survive...):

"Wow. I can finally feel the transmitted liquids surging through me," reiterated Iggy, sticking to partial truth. "Ahh, this was totally worth it, not like that Kids Harmony inc or whatever that crap is called. I mean, not only is it a rip-off but the hook is being said so many times that it's overwhelming to the listener. Moreover, AIDS. I got 'em and me and my buddy, along with my sex partner are going to have a prosperous future awaiting us, most likely the AIDS killing us prior to a bus and a bastard causing our demise. Now Iggy on the other hand, well, we just have to wait and see, don't we? Like, Grande..."

Present Day. The Jacuzzi

The three amnegroes awaken from what seems to be a refreshing slumber. Due to their heads being submerged into the water for way too long, the chlorine basically sucked them dry, well, mostly.

"Whoowee! What the bleep happened?" Asked U, gasping for air while orally producing a white, transmitted, gooey-type substance. "It seems that you have been gagging on me. Now, in regards to what happened to us, we must've been inebriated or high/drunk for you pricks, to a point where it knocked us into a state of unconsciousness. In other words, we now have toxins coursing through our veins; we are likely to die at some point and the smoke we produced by rolling blunts must've made us partially brain dead because well, drugs are bad and yet we're still managing to communicate," somehow explained Rob. "Yeah, thanks for the lecture genius but-" said Black, interrupted as you can see. Well, as suggested by the dash anyway. "Is there something you'd like to discuss niggwah? I, being the leader here, not to mention leading you this far, was just politely briefing our readers on what happened as a result of these past events. Now, someone had better hold me back before I unleash my wrath of hood experience on this niggwah here on this day! I'd suggest you square up now before I go slaps with you nigg-" hah! "HOLD IT!" U came in between them, the lust being real. "Calm the bleep down. During this holy yet sacred time of rage, I'd suggest that the 63% of you women get on somewhere. Now then, deep breaths. That's it. Now, I want you both to go hang out with each other, obviously avoiding drugs throughout the day, and to explore what the city has to offer. Rob, I want you to keep your promise that you made to Black when you said you were going to find the perfect trap queen for him," foxy lady said to dark chocolate. "Why can't we just stay here?" Asked either or. "Because... It appears that I'm going through a menstrual cycle or period. That's right, maybe the 63% of you women can both relate to that and be appalled at. Unless you want me to go into detail... That's what I thought. Before you leave, I want to make you fully aware that me, along with Rob and Black, are not good role models. That's pretty much a given at this point in time, like Trump. So yeah, moving on. Just for the sake of it, lemme talk you through it." "Uhh, I-I think we'll be on our way-" "The tampon absorbs my menstrual flow or blood-" "Ahh crap. Now I'm regretting what I do down there. Black, let's go. She's obviously going to need the whole mansion for her-" U then starts to shriek. Black and Rob then dash towards their classic vintage convertible car whilst slipping in a cassette on bestiality... Then Chic's Le Freak, which is similar in some cases. They then drive away towards The Pacific of Detroit, or where ever the bleep they were previously at. Just uhh... Gonna stick with Detroit being a wretched place to be.

Meanwhile, at a fast-food restaurant located in the south part of the Pacific, which uhh... Isn't meant for some people if yee know what dis mon means. Hyah, yeet! They're at a strip club known as 'Vanilla Cream' or simply 'XXX live nude girls' ( if they still do that), not to mention it being a historic landmark in the Pacific. Vanilla Cream is of course located in a discreet location, next to both a grocery and convenience store. Neon lights and the unicorn's tip oozing something out ( being the logo) shining as appealing as can be while the entrance, consisting of a luxurious red carpet ( or so meets the eye) and a sort-of patio roof above it. Rob and Black them arrive at the strip club ( disregard what I said when they were actually in the "big place." I want to prepare a grand entrance for them). Parking the ol' convertible, dressing up like hustlers or Snoop Dogg with black shades, leather fur coats and leather pants along with dress shoes that'll knock the daylight out of you. Making their way into the ring is Black and Rob, walking like ballers ( threateningly. Their shoulders bouncing up and down, aligned with the rhythm of how joyless they walk, thinking that they're doing professional business of some sort). "Whoa whoa. I need to confiscate those from you," said the bodyguard, anxiously cupping his testicles and taking their firearms. "Have a nice time." They made it alive from post-Chicago protests and security measures as they pay an unnecessary entrance fee, which really was just a scam. Upon gaining access into the club, the two gentlemen were greeted by women in mini-skirts, tied-up tank tops, and roller blades. How about that? By the way, democrats rule, for the most part but flaws aside. Now I know this is irrelevant but hear me out. What good do you expect from republicans hmm? Well, other than sticking with your own race. Besides that. Think and I'll catch up with you later. Bernie Sanders or Clinton...

"Ahh, look at us Black. Two playaz in da strip joint, #ballerslife ( Hyah, Dwayne Johnson HBO. Am I right¿). But that's besides the point. We're in the prime time of our life, enjoying hookers with fake hair extensions and cheap but intoxicating fragrances, doing this only to pay off college loans and to get away and share life stories of their abusive step-fathers whilst attending to their job or daily routine. I'm surprised they're attending college for that matter. All the while, Glamorous by Fergie was being played in the background along with Ludacris' quote I am the boss songs, unquote in order to set that tone that gets yah pumped up, and not the type of pumped up that you experience in a public fitness center by consuming whey powder or injecting steroids into yourself. Good job Schwarzenegger, going all natural," said Rob, breathing in the aroma and new life into him while Black, getting a little too excited, intently gazes around. "Here, lets sit down. Aii boy. BOY!" Rob, assuming that it was the 60s, was barking at his own friend, attempting to get him to bring him a drink. "Niggwah-" "Sorry Black, my err... Whip crack noise culture/background kicked in their for a moment." "It be aight fool but I gotta ask, is U okay with this?" "What ever do you mean? 'Course she is. I bet she's doing something as an alternative if yee know what dis fool means. We have what we call an open marriage. We'll tackle this subject, along with you and that hot tub girl in another chapter." "Ahh, I see. No worries. Oy! Waiter! Roll your filthy, slutty, dumb thoughty arse over here now! I do a ridiculously accurate impression of your average cockney male. It's basically British trash," "Bravo Black!"

"And what can I get you fine gentlemen?" "Save your pretty tits for later hoe thought. Yeah, the double combo. We'll get 4 rounds of your best bourbon love. Here's an extra 100 so I's can receive your best of services you naughty gal. Get goin' and don't mind us, we'll be back for the bourbon and you," Black then slaps her in the buttocks and the dumb hoe rolls away once more towards victory. "Ahh, fragranced candles, the greatest smell in the world," complimented Rob to the entire club. "Aiight so, here's the plan. We go our separate ways and get as much lap dances and car fellatio as possible. We meet here once the bourbon comes, which, frankly, is going to take quite some time, considering just how petite her....[mumbles gibberish]. Let's go!" "Sounds like a solid plan Black. See, you're being the leader. That's good, very good," replied Rob. Now, you're probably wondering why I wrote the strip club sequence in italics. Well, that's because it's a very suggestive piece and I plan on going a bit further...

Oil Rig: "Hey sugar, wanna a piece of this apple pie?" Asked a stripper coincidentally named The Strong Scent of Apple Pie. "Golly! I sure do!" "Keep your eyes on the prize honey and follow me into the premium lounge."

Rob: "Black?! What're you doing in here. Thought we were going our separate ways." Rob's other trap queen then covers what the bra could not by folding her arms into the most visually stunning cleavage you could ever imagine. "I'm just getting a lap dance bro-". "Sugar, all of the rooms are occupied due to the holiday cutback package, which I do not want to go into at the moment. So, you will have to sit next to your reject friend over there and the best we can do is give you a double dance, topless of course and sexy to the max." "What do you think Rob?" "Alright. After all, this is what U wanted for us to do. Hyah, looks like we're going to be holly and jolly this season with strippers, which sounds alright to me. Lady, name any amount and I will give it to you through a check because it makes look old-fashioned and fancy. Just thinking about it makes me feel giddy now."

Together, as one. The thoughts I mean: "Wow, that's a lot of money. Boys, as our special treat, we'll give you our deluxe package. Meaning we'll upgrade your room to a private floor. Why didn't you just tell us that you were rich in the first place?"

And that, ladies... & gentlemen ( me got da boner and thoughts, similar to hoes but not in that sense) brings us to an epic yet attractive end to another hopefully appealing, story-related ( yep, it's official alright) chapter. ''Tis the season to be jolly', guess what they say is true, especially for our favorite book/black pals. Here's a preview for the next chapter. Remember, statements can be deceptive and won't always hold up to their truths. In other words, theatricality and deception are powerful agents, when used properly that is. That's a going to be a major theme in in 60th-future chapters: they're going to get the ride of lifetime, to be blunt. Not only that but I'll put on a festive tune. Happy Holliday's America and as always, pleasure doing business with you.