- Reads 20
- Votes 3
- Parts 1
- Time <5 mins
Ongoing, First published Aug 12, 2015
"When I was young, I knew I was special. There was this weird mark on my olecranal." The midgety, pimply teen bends his elbow in a chicken-wing, shows it to the old, musty man under the bridge, and in the firelight of a rusting trash-can slowly stretches his tongue out, passionately enveloping his orange-tinged wenis in his saliva. His eyes ease closed. Little Tim-Tim knows what he must do to save himself and his parents and maybe a homeless dude, but can he? Amidst the seeds of chaos some loser will... Uhm. Hm.All Rights Reserved
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