Tuesday, March 2, 2010
A disturbing love story
"Butterfingers, please don't look at me that way, you know I can't be with you. It's a crime to my heart~"
I stood there, staring at the yellow wrapped temptress sitting on the counter, the only sound was the wheeze that escaped from my asthmatic throat. In the stillness of the day, I could feel the sweat bead up on my chins, slowly working it's way down the front of my shirt. The tension was palatable - just me and the object of my undying desire. Taking a deep breath, I could feel the t-shirt straining against my bulk, the individual threads screaming out in agony as they were stretched beyond their limits.
The whore lay on the table lewdly, flashing just enough of her chocolate brown covering to cause erotic images spring forth in my mind of what I would do to her the minute I got her into my meaty mitts.
But alas, it was not to be - she was beyond bad for me. I must be strong I told myself, my tongue making a trip around my bulbous lips, anticipating the joy of teasing her semi-sweet clothes off her unnaturally orange, flaky, crunchy body. Dragging a hand that resembled a bag of hamburger with sausages attached to it across my deep set (and almost invisible) eyes, my heart skipped a beat as I noticed the way the light played off of her plastic cellophane wrapper.
She had come home with me earlier in the night, looking for a quick one off - she was always about the quickie - but I had wanted to savor the moment, to enjoy the anticipation of taking her one little lick, nibble and bite at a time. I was getting excited at the prospect of our intimate little tete-a-tete when Stephen burst in.
Startled, I quickly tossed her off of me, trying to gain some semblance of normalcy. Too surprised to react, she lay there on the table, her wrapper lewdly hanging off her body, almost telling me to look at her. I could hear her in my head "I've been so naughty.... I really need a good tongue lashing, perhaps a nibble... are you going to taste me, and show me the error of my ways?"
"Hey, mom says no more candy." He stared at me, a pair of eyes looking out from lanky dyed black hair mostly covering a face ravaged by acne and pimples.
Quickly going on the offensive, I searched my arsenal for a biting retort to blast this interloper from my sight, so I could comfort my sweetness. Looking him square in the eyes, I mustered all my strength and fired back. "Oh yeah? Why's that?"
I could tell I had scored a hit when he shrugged - he was reeling from the attack! Yes! I have once again defeated my enemies with a minimum of bloodshed... but wait, what's this? "She says that if you eat any more candy, your heart's going to explode. I told her that if that happens, I'm not moving your ass downstairs."
What!? The enemy had booby-trapped his body! I was now realizing that I had walked right into his trap! He knew he would go down, so he figured he would get me posthumously... the sly devil... he had my respect. I had to handle this delicately...
"For how long?" I queried, trying to figure out how much time I had before I was just a greasy spot on the far wall. Another shrug... "Dunno".
Damn! not much to work with.... well, I shall do my best. He had disappeared from my view, but the trap was still there - he had attached it to my love while I must have been not looking. He was going to rue the day that he crossed paths with me! For now, I had to figure out how to rescue my love without killing both of us.
I glanced at her again, and I felt the urge rise again - I must have her! The light from the lamps had been beating down on her, causing her to start shedding her milky smooth brown wrap to reveal the tasty peanut butter flesh underneath... the sweat began to come more profusely... Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore... I lurched up out of my chair and lumbered across the room towards my destiny.... I must have my precious!
As my hand closed in on my prize, a yellow cartoon hand swept in, stealing the object of my desire. Uncomprehending, I looked up into the face of a famous cartoon character smiling at me. As if in slow motion, I watched him pull my darling up to his face, sliding her into his mouth, he bit down, taking a bit off of her.
I howled in despair and rage - I had to kill this interloper, but for some reason, I couldn't move... He looked at me, through me, into my soul, and uttered...
"Nobody had better lay a finger on my Butterfinger."