Fairy Tale Friday 17
Video Rendition of this story here , thanks to Richard Skull!
There once was a Thing named
Dork Portion.
Awoken from sleep by a trumpet-like blast from between his buttocks, the Thing stuck his bloated, bluish feet into his slippers and waddled into his kitchen.
On a wooden board on the table sat a loaf of bread. He smothered it in butter, and ate it. And then he ate the rest of the butter. And then the knife, and the cutting board. And then he ate the table.
In the refrigerator there was a block of cheese on a plate. The Thing devoured the cheese, and the plate, and the refrigerator. He wiped his lips on his sleeve and, still hungry, sat down on the floor. The Thing ate his entire house, but there was no relief to the stinging hollow pain within his craving bowels, and with a starved eye, he turned his attention to the road outside his home.
On the other side of town, there lived a purple Oaf. The Oaf never met an object he didn't want to stuff up his butt. Stuffing things up his butt made them his own, and the Oaf lived to take credit for things that weren't his. Sometimes he would see an item, like a parking meter or a stop sign, and consider NOT stuffing it up his butt. But then the disapproving transmissions from space would get louder in his head, and he would have no choice: up his butt they went.
One day he ran out of things to stuff up his butt, having filled it with the complete Encyclopedia Brittanica, and all his living room furniture, and his house. And with no place to live and nothing left to cram into his poor distorted ass hole, the Oaf looked sadly out at the horizon with the knowledge that it was time to take his act on the road.
The Thing was steadily munching his way into the middle of town. He ate police cars, and children selling lemonade, and a taxidermy shop. The Oaf too was making progress, packing his butt with mailboxes, and tourists taking pictures, and a pretzel cart. The Thing's hunger was never sated, and the Oaf's anus yawned like a black hole in space, eager to swallow up every schoolbus, shoe store and horse drawn carriage that crossed his path.
Eventually, the Thing met the Oaf at the center of what was once a thriving metropolis, but was now a barren wasteland spreading in every direction, devoid of life or interest. They stood face to face, each drooling from their respective hungry orifice. Between them, on the ground, was the last living thing in town: Edna Flan, on her way to the post office with a $30 check for "Bob".
"Y00 bak 0ff, o1d porpel 0aF! EYE ham gunna 3at this 3dna FLAN!" said the Thing.
"I am on the radio!" announced the Oaf proudly, punctuating his point with a wet fart.
Edna Flan looked to one side, down the cavernous gullet of the Thing, studded with thick grey teeth the size of paperback books and festooned with chunks of semi-chewed nacho platter, zebra hooves and librarians. A howl of rancid air moaned up from deep within the Thing, and carried on this noxious wind were notes of lolspeak, and self-loathing. To the other side, a long brown hallway stretched before her. At the end of it, she could barely make out the shape of a futon, some cement blocks and a pay phone. This rectal self-storage unit threatened to gobble her whole, while the looming mouth of the thing menaced her with a promise that she would become like so many burrito specials.
Edna Flan was brave, and just as the mouth and the ass were about to tear her to pieces, she ducked out of the way. The Thing's lips affixed firmly to the Oaf's anus, and his powerful uncontrollable sucking caused the Oaf to first invert himself, and then disappear. But his ass continued to swallow, and the Thing was simultanously dragged up into the void until he imploded and vanished.
Everything was gone, except for a giant, disembodied pair of lips and asshole, hovering in the air above Edna Flan, endlessly suckling against each other, an unstoppable force married to an immovable object, floating, and turning, and pulsating for eternity.
Edna Flan had to go to the next town to mail that $30 to "Bob", since the post office had been eaten, but the following week she won $333 million in the Megamillions lottery drawing and moved to a town where everything hadn't been in somebody's mouth or ass.
Awoken from sleep by a trumpet-like blast from between his buttocks, the Thing stuck his bloated, bluish feet into his slippers and waddled into his kitchen.
On a wooden board on the table sat a loaf of bread. He smothered it in butter, and ate it. And then he ate the rest of the butter. And then the knife, and the cutting board. And then he ate the table.
In the refrigerator there was a block of cheese on a plate. The Thing devoured the cheese, and the plate, and the refrigerator. He wiped his lips on his sleeve and, still hungry, sat down on the floor. The Thing ate his entire house, but there was no relief to the stinging hollow pain within his craving bowels, and with a starved eye, he turned his attention to the road outside his home.
On the other side of town, there lived a purple Oaf. The Oaf never met an object he didn't want to stuff up his butt. Stuffing things up his butt made them his own, and the Oaf lived to take credit for things that weren't his. Sometimes he would see an item, like a parking meter or a stop sign, and consider NOT stuffing it up his butt. But then the disapproving transmissions from space would get louder in his head, and he would have no choice: up his butt they went.
One day he ran out of things to stuff up his butt, having filled it with the complete Encyclopedia Brittanica, and all his living room furniture, and his house. And with no place to live and nothing left to cram into his poor distorted ass hole, the Oaf looked sadly out at the horizon with the knowledge that it was time to take his act on the road.
The Thing was steadily munching his way into the middle of town. He ate police cars, and children selling lemonade, and a taxidermy shop. The Oaf too was making progress, packing his butt with mailboxes, and tourists taking pictures, and a pretzel cart. The Thing's hunger was never sated, and the Oaf's anus yawned like a black hole in space, eager to swallow up every schoolbus, shoe store and horse drawn carriage that crossed his path.
Eventually, the Thing met the Oaf at the center of what was once a thriving metropolis, but was now a barren wasteland spreading in every direction, devoid of life or interest. They stood face to face, each drooling from their respective hungry orifice. Between them, on the ground, was the last living thing in town: Edna Flan, on her way to the post office with a $30 check for "Bob".
"Y00 bak 0ff, o1d porpel 0aF! EYE ham gunna 3at this 3dna FLAN!" said the Thing.
"I am on the radio!" announced the Oaf proudly, punctuating his point with a wet fart.
Edna Flan looked to one side, down the cavernous gullet of the Thing, studded with thick grey teeth the size of paperback books and festooned with chunks of semi-chewed nacho platter, zebra hooves and librarians. A howl of rancid air moaned up from deep within the Thing, and carried on this noxious wind were notes of lolspeak, and self-loathing. To the other side, a long brown hallway stretched before her. At the end of it, she could barely make out the shape of a futon, some cement blocks and a pay phone. This rectal self-storage unit threatened to gobble her whole, while the looming mouth of the thing menaced her with a promise that she would become like so many burrito specials.
Edna Flan was brave, and just as the mouth and the ass were about to tear her to pieces, she ducked out of the way. The Thing's lips affixed firmly to the Oaf's anus, and his powerful uncontrollable sucking caused the Oaf to first invert himself, and then disappear. But his ass continued to swallow, and the Thing was simultanously dragged up into the void until he imploded and vanished.
Everything was gone, except for a giant, disembodied pair of lips and asshole, hovering in the air above Edna Flan, endlessly suckling against each other, an unstoppable force married to an immovable object, floating, and turning, and pulsating for eternity.
Edna Flan had to go to the next town to mail that $30 to "Bob", since the post office had been eaten, but the following week she won $333 million in the Megamillions lottery drawing and moved to a town where everything hadn't been in somebody's mouth or ass.