Eel

Milk and Peanuts

There once was an elf that lived on a shelf who had a big cock that wound up like a clock.
He once looked up above to see a single dove and as each feather falls he would jack off to walls.
He looked at the dove that was up above and said a some words that the bird did heard.
"Do not scream, I'm making cream." He smiled with teeth that looked like beef.
Rip.
He Trip.

***

Michael picked up his bongos made of tacos, the lettus and cheese falling along the floor as he tried to make a sick beat on hard taco shells and tortillas. He was truly making a mess but it was for a very good reason. He was practicing for the school musical named "Food Fight" and his Taco Bongos were going to get him that part. The famous part of Taco Bongo man, the hero in the story.
With his saucy ropes made of grated cheese, his flamboyant shredded lettuce nets, his sharp knives made of hard taco shells, and his beautiful, glorious, and terrifying tortilla shell dreads for hair; not to mention his taco bongos.
"I will get this part! I Will!" Michael yodels with determination, the applejuice powered computer on his desk making a whirring sound.
He looks at the screen made of apple skins, the message that came in was from Jesus.
"Jesus: Hello my bow."
"Jesus: Boy* sorry."
Michael smiles. Wow, Jesus, texting him. How crazy.
Wowza. Pickle Bologna and bananas!

He answers Jesus with a "Hey, oh holy one." And Jesus responds "Hah. Lolz. No this is Jesus from math class you dweeb."
And then Michael got disappointed.

Michael pulled on his Toga and furry pants, how dare Jesus from Math Class call him a dweeb! This was crucial dance dance revolution challenge time. He would duel him in the most deadliest of ways.

Gay Furry midget BDSM daddy porn.
Who lasts the longest wins and isn't the dweeb.

Jesus, knowing how deadly this was, chickened out.
That Dweeb.

Michael went back to his taco bongos, eating an EEL while smoking a bubble pipe.
No one was going to beat him in the auditions. No one.

Not if he could help it.