Chapter Six

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Po, baby ter ter and I enter the deep abyss that is Winchester, Franklin. Everywhere I pivot with my basketball (aka Po) I see goth obese, orangutan looking ass redneck tubbydippers. In there trailer yards by the bonfire where old Joe warms his icicle fingernubs, they have picket signs saying "Make Tubbyland Incest Again". These hoes don't even LIVE in Tubbyland SMH! We skrt our way down the yellow brick road and jelly bean cytoplasmic oompa loompas, or at least that's what I thought they were. They were actually redneck babies with a septum piercing and a bad spray tan. They told us that gays go to heck no homo tho! Baby terio child poses, cobras, then downward dogs all the way to the trump exoskeleton babies and gives them a Bon Qui Qui soliloquy over the birds and the bees. He then turns into Nicki Minaj, shaves off his shock collar and attempts to strangle the bundle of babies with it. "Stop right there mister" Po screamos through the rusty tavern. Po lathers up his stepson in Krusty Krab secret spicy 5sos, and baby Terio converts to Judaism and back to his original form. The redneck infants regain constipation. "Hey lil man midgets!" I squirt out of my asparagus clippings. It's harvesting season! "We are triggered by that term. We prefer redneck trumpy tubbies." the babies pack a lip in unison. "Okay sorry about that. Do yee yee art thou know whereth thou Jeffrey Eli Miller and Terio?" I yodel from the canopies of the distillery (yes, we are still in the distillery). "Well I heard Jeffrey just be chillin with his headphones in listenin to some Mac Demarco drinking some Arizona Tea and pennyboarding into the moonlight #aestheticsadschoolboyQ.

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⏰ Last updated: Dec 05, 2018 ⏰

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