One summer afternoon as you were walking down the street you hear thundering footsteps behind you. You turn to see a fat old lady with a receding poorly dyed hairline that was so far back you would have thought she was bald if it wasn't grey, contrasting against her sunburned skin. Her almost flat chest and huge belly jiggled as she ran, barely covered by the tight wet white t-shirt. Her black miniskirt flowed in the wind as she passed you screaming "pineapples are kinky!!" You turned, noticing your purse was gone. You don't know how she did it. It was all the way up your shoulder. But she did. She ran away, skirt tucked into the back of her red thong, booty cheeks slapping together. Then you noticed that she wasn't in fact flat chested. Her droopy braless boobs flapped in the wind behind her from under her armpits. Michelle Obama chased after her screaming "you get back here you bitch!" Over and over. Then you woke up and came.
