“Don’t clucking run away without me you clucking vitch!” Broderica garbled, tossing her flask askew and jumping titfirst on another pile of overalls to soar downwards in delayed tandem.
Pamela turned to Green Garey. “You don’t want to run from them too, do you?”
Green Garey looked to Pamela as he continued to pull shining bits of Broderica’s glass flask out of his face. “Aye? From who now?”
“Green Garey, look up.”
Green Garey looked up at the hooded horde hovering overhead.
“Avast! Naye. Aye’m too carrrgrious arrgs to whayet theyarrg doaaarng.”
“Glad to hear it, Green Garey. These guys are going to get a lot of action in the old notebook and frankly it’d be disappointing to miss out on the opportunity.”
“PUT THAT SHIT DOWN!” boomed a brutish, deep, frighteningly familiar voice as the frontmost figure cast a clawed finger at Pamela.
“Excrete me?” Pamela puzzled.
“I SAID PUT THAT COCKHAMNED SHIT DOWN!”
“Well then,” Pamela lowered her notebook, continuing to sketch in it, “no need to be rude. I am a member of the Royal Gourd, you know.”
“As am AAAYE!” Green Garey shook his hook.
The figure lowered their rent-a-broom, growing closer and closer to Pamela. Something about their large, lumbering torso felt familiar as Pamela attempted to sketch its nudity.
“Stop shaking that hook at me,” the figure grumbled villanously.
“Don’t tell him to stop shaking that hook at you. Green Garey you shake that hook at them as much as you want.”
“Well aye’m going to harrve to stop shaking it at ‘em soon aye mean me wrist is gettarrng soarrr.”
The figure huffed an aggravated sigh.
“Green Garey you can’t stop now right when they told you to stop I mean you’d essentially be giving in backing down come on Green Garey don’t let anybody push you around and tell you what to do don’t you stop shaking that hook!”
“Aye’m going to stop my arrrrrrm is soarrr.”
“Don’t you dare!” Pamela grabbed Green Garey’s wrist, jerked it forward and shook his hook forcefully in the figure’s face. With a determined thrust she accidentally slid it under the figure’s hood and punctured the bloodshot eye underneath like a cherry tomato.
“AAAAAAIEEEEEERRRRRGHHHH!” ejaculated the figure, falling off their rent-a-broom, plopping over themself and rolling around on the wooden surface of the skyacht dome in erratic agony. “VITCH! YOU CLUCKING VITCH! HOW DARE YOU MUTILATE ME AGAIN!”
“Again?” Pamela perked up and flipped through her notebook, “I’ve got to be honest, I don’t see much about mutilation in my notes. Plenty of fornication, however that is a bit of a result of my investigation methods, which I assure you are cleared by the knight academy.”
“PAMELA! ENOUGH ABOUT THAT CLUCKING NOTEBOOK! I KNOW ALL ABOUT YOUR CLUCKING NOTBEOOK!”
“You do?” Pamela squinted, looking at the huge, flailing figure, then back at her drawings, then back at the figure, then at Green Garey’s bloody hook, then at the her notebook, then at the figure, then at her favorite page of the notebook which some may consider its most racy, then at the figure another time. “Carl?”
“CARL?! CARL?! YOU CLUCKING THINK I’M CARL?!”
“I don’t know it was just a guess.”
“Hey! Dorma!” whispered a gerbilesque voice emanating from a gargantuan hooded figure. “Who gives a shit about these idiots? What about the women?”
“SHUT THE CLUCK UP GEOFFREY!”
The chipmunk voice grew warbly. “E-excrete me Dorma what did you just call me?”
“OH GO SHOVE THE LETTER G UP YOUR ASS JEFFREY WITH A G WHO CARES ABOUT YOUR STUPID NAME?!”
“Oh Jeffrey with a G I remember him do you remember him?”
“Aye, aye remember him Parrmela.”
“SHUT UP AND PAY ATTENTION TO ME!!”
“Stop flailing it’s making you hard to draw. Are those human eating eight legged bear wolf arms and legs you’ve got there?”
“WOULDN’T YOU LIKE TO KNOW!!”
“Yes, I really would, it would make my note taking much easier, thanks for asking.”
“I HATE YOU, PAMELA! I! HATE! YOUUUUU!”
“And I don’t know who you are. We’ve established this. Now, if you had to describe your genitalia, would you say that it—”
“GO CLUCK YOURSELF!” the cloaked wraithing beast leapt off its back and tackled Pamela, knocking her beloved notebook asunder and breathing wretchedly over her face.
“Great cock,” Pamela gasped, trying to hold in multiple dry heaves on smelling her captor’s rancid breath, “Is that you, Dorma?”
***
PFFKSKFKSKFKFLLPPTTFFFF
Krumbumbum and
PPLFPDFKLDLDSALDDDLAPASLLDLDKFKFFFFFF
Broderica landed panties up in the pielight breeze, faces down in charred jeans, and bodies sore.
“Avast!” graveled the skyratiest voice they had ever heard. “What are ye whores doin’ on the floor?”
Broderica and Krumbumbum clambered to their feet, legs crossed and titties jiggling in embarassment.
“Ahoy! What are ye talkin’ to these whores aboaarrrgt?” asked another skyrate of the first skyrate. They probably had six teeth between them.
“Aye was askin’ why they be hearrr!”
“Well aye want to know what they saaarrgd to ye!”
“Aye don’t know what they said ye intarrruptarrgded me!”
“Well that’s narrgt me fault now ’s it?”
Broderica and Krumbumbum skittered away as the skyrates continued to grumble about mysterious whores. Once they were out of earshot and ayeshot they turned to one another and huffed.
“Why does everyone think we’re sluts?” Krumbumbum wined, readjusting her slipping nipple tape.
“I can’t fathom,” Broderica sighed, adjusting her heaving boobies.
“Maybe we could use it to our advantage somehow. You know last time we got to meet that awful blob monster man. Maybe we’ll get to meet the awful captain of this skyacht if we really amp up the sluttiness.”
“I guess,” Broderica sighed, chugging from a hidden ass flask. “And who knows. Maybe we’ll find my ass. Heh. I could use my ass to find my ass!”
“Your ass isn’t that hood though, Broderica. It’s an all chest job for you.”
“Krumbumbum don’t you clucking go there.”
“Just trying to keep you modest woman.”
“You’re just jealous miss flattsville.”
“You know you’ve said that so many times it’s starting to lose meaning to me.”
“Lose meaning? So you don’t know what I mean when I say you don’t barely have any tits but also you’re a woman?”
“Broderica, do you think it’s played out?”
“What vitch?”
“Do you think using our bodies to pretend to be whores on this skyacht for ulterior motives is a little played out?”
“Krumbumbum you need to get real. Women objectifying themselves is never gonna be played out. Now let me see that purse of yours. We need some makeup.”
“Don’t clucking run away without me you clucking vitch!” Broderica garbled, tossing her flask askew and jumping titfirst on another pile of overalls to soar downwards in delayed tandem.
Pamela turned to Green Garey. “You don’t want to run from them too, do you?”
Green Garey looked to Pamela as he continued to pull shining bits of Broderica’s glass flask out of his face. “Aye? From who now?”
“Green Garey, look up.”
Green Garey looked up at the hooded horde hovering overhead.
“Avast! Naye. Aye’m too carrrgrious arrgs to whayet theyarrg doaaarng.”
“Glad to hear it, Green Garey. These guys are going to get a lot of action in the old notebook and frankly it’d be disappointing to miss out on the opportunity.”
“PUT THAT SHIT DOWN!” boomed a brutish, deep, frighteningly familiar voice as the frontmost figure cast a clawed finger at Pamela.
“Excrete me?” Pamela puzzled.
“I SAID PUT THAT COCKHAMNED SHIT DOWN!”
“Well then,” Pamela lowered her notebook, continuing to sketch in it, “no need to be rude. I am a member of the Royal Gourd, you know.”
“As am AAAYE!” Green Garey shook his hook.
The figure lowered their rent-a-broom, growing closer and closer to Pamela. Something about their large, lumbering torso felt familiar as Pamela attempted to sketch its nudity.
“Stop shaking that hook at me,” the figure grumbled villanously.
“Don’t tell him to stop shaking that hook at you. Green Garey you shake that hook at them as much as you want.”
“Well aye’m going to harrve to stop shaking it at ‘em soon aye mean me wrist is gettarrng soarrr.”
The figure huffed an aggravated sigh.
“Green Garey you can’t stop now right when they told you to stop I mean you’d essentially be giving in backing down come on Green Garey don’t let anybody push you around and tell you what to do don’t you stop shaking that hook!”
“Aye’m going to stop my arrrrrrm is soarrr.”
“Don’t you dare!” Pamela grabbed Green Garey’s wrist, jerked it forward and shook his hook forcefully in the figure’s face. With a determined thrust she accidentally slid it under the figure’s hood and punctured the bloodshot eye underneath like a cherry tomato.
“AAAAAAIEEEEEERRRRRGHHHH!” ejaculated the figure, falling off their rent-a-broom, plopping over themself and rolling around on the wooden surface of the skyacht dome in erratic agony. “VITCH! YOU CLUCKING VITCH! HOW DARE YOU MUTILATE ME AGAIN!”
“Again?” Pamela perked up and flipped through her notebook, “I’ve got to be honest, I don’t see much about mutilation in my notes. Plenty of fornication, however that is a bit of a result of my investigation methods, which I assure you are cleared by the knight academy.”
“PAMELA! ENOUGH ABOUT THAT CLUCKING NOTEBOOK! I KNOW ALL ABOUT YOUR CLUCKING NOTBEOOK!”
“You do?” Pamela squinted, looking at the huge, flailing figure, then back at her drawings, then back at the figure, then at Green Garey’s bloody hook, then at the her notebook, then at the figure, then at her favorite page of the notebook which some may consider its most racy, then at the figure another time. “Carl?”
“CARL?! CARL?! YOU CLUCKING THINK I’M CARL?!”
“I don’t know it was just a guess.”
“Hey! Dorma!” whispered a gerbilesque voice emanating from a gargantuan hooded figure. “Who gives a shit about these idiots? What about the women?”
“SHUT THE CLUCK UP GEOFFREY!”
The chipmunk voice grew warbly. “E-excrete me Dorma what did you just call me?”
“OH GO SHOVE THE LETTER G UP YOUR ASS JEFFREY WITH A G WHO CARES ABOUT YOUR STUPID NAME?!”
“Oh Jeffrey with a G I remember him do you remember him?”
“Aye, aye remember him Parrmela.”
“SHUT UP AND PAY ATTENTION TO ME!!”
“Stop flailing it’s making you hard to draw. Are those human eating eight legged bear wolf arms and legs you’ve got there?”
“WOULDN’T YOU LIKE TO KNOW!!”
“Yes, I really would, it would make my note taking much easier, thanks for asking.”
“I HATE YOU, PAMELA! I! HATE! YOUUUUU!”
“And I don’t know who you are. We’ve established this. Now, if you had to describe your genitalia, would you say that it—”
“GO CLUCK YOURSELF!” the cloaked wraithing beast leapt off its back and tackled Pamela, knocking her beloved notebook asunder and breathing wretchedly over her face.
“Great cock,” Pamela gasped, trying to hold in multiple dry heaves on smelling her captor’s rancid breath, “Is that you, Dorma?”
***
PFFKSKFKSKFKFLLPPTTFFFF
Krumbumbum and
PPLFPDFKLDLDSALDDDLAPASLLDLDKFKFFFFFF
Broderica landed panties up in the pielight breeze, faces down in charred jeans, and bodies sore.
“Avast!” graveled the skyratiest voice they had ever heard. “What are ye whores doin’ on the floor?”
Broderica and Krumbumbum clambered to their feet, legs crossed and titties jiggling in embarassment.
“Ahoy! What are ye talkin’ to these whores aboaarrrgt?” asked another skyrate of the first skyrate. They probably had six teeth between them.
“Aye was askin’ why they be hearrr!”
“Well aye want to know what they saaarrgd to ye!”
“Aye don’t know what they said ye intarrruptarrgded me!”
“Well that’s narrgt me fault now ’s it?”
Broderica and Krumbumbum skittered away as the skyrates continued to grumble about mysterious whores. Once they were out of earshot and ayeshot they turned to one another and huffed.
“Why does everyone think we’re sluts?” Krumbumbum wined, readjusting her slipping nipple tape.
“I can’t fathom,” Broderica sighed, adjusting her heaving boobies.
“Maybe we could use it to our advantage somehow. You know last time we got to meet that awful blob monster man. Maybe we’ll get to meet the awful captain of this skyacht if we really amp up the sluttiness.”
“I guess,” Broderica sighed, chugging from a hidden ass flask. “And who knows. Maybe we’ll find my ass. Heh. I could use my ass to find my ass!”
“Your ass isn’t that hood though, Broderica. It’s an all chest job for you.”
“Krumbumbum don’t you clucking go there.”
“Just trying to keep you modest woman.”
“You’re just jealous miss flattsville.”
“You know you’ve said that so many times it’s starting to lose meaning to me.”
“Lose meaning? So you don’t know what I mean when I say you don’t barely have any tits but also you’re a woman?”
“Broderica, do you think it’s played out?”
“What vitch?”
“Do you think using our bodies to pretend to be whores on this skyacht for ulterior motives is a little played out?”
“Krumbumbum you need to get real. Women objectifying themselves is never gonna be played out. Now let me see that purse of yours. We need some makeup.”
