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39. At Which Point Broderica, Krumbumbum and Biscuit Pisser See A Chicken

39. At Which Point Broderica, Krumbumbum and Biscuit Pisser See A Chicken

“EhOhhh ehcock…ehcluck…I ehknow I’m ehbeyond ehreproach. Ehyou know ehwhat the ehkids ehused to ehsay about ehme? Ehback ehwhen I ehwas ehin my ehtwenties and ehgoing to ehmagic ehfantasy ehcollege? They ehsaid ehthat I ehhad ehcast ehtoo ehmany ehclairvoyance ehspells and it ehhad ehcontorted my ehbody ehinto…ehwhat it ehis.”

Broderica turned to Krumbumbum and turned an erotic eyebrow as Krumbumbum scratched her ass crack and then absenmindedly sniffed it; sexually. Krumbumbum stuttered in her olfactory perusal as she noticed Broderica’s eyes and they both instantly felt her guilt as Broderica realized that some of the things Krumbumbum had talked about regarding clairvoancy spells had not at all been objective, or entirely factual. Neither of them noticed how much Biscuit Pisser absolutely loved witnessing this all unfold, she was in fact to the point of ecstasy that she was licking her lips. It also appeared a little more piss had dribbled down her leg.

Broderica, realizing at once Krumbumbum’s glorious hypocrisy and the pitifulness of this blob man burst out in a racuhy fit of laughter that sent the reek of her alcohol stained breath parading through the air like a flurry of firetwerks.

The sobbing, the pain, the amoebalike fatness of the thing before Broderica caused her to stop her cackling and lean over, almost, cock forbid, magicing bad.

“What is it, misirrah? I beg you to tell me what you expect of me,” Broderica confessed, bubbling with shock at herself and also some fartburn. She leaned over to the blob, her huge milky tits framing its gold-clad head. “I truly am unaware. I, ehrm, I have agents that deal with that issue.”

“Ehhh…I ehguess I ehshould have ehfigured…ehlook, ehBleu ehLouie—”

“Oh my clucking cock why do you keep calling me that?! I clucking told you to call me Shitface and yet all you clucking do is call me ‘ehehhehhhBleu ehhhhhLouie’! What the cluck! Die in a fire if you don’t get the message!”

“I’m ehsorry, I’m ehsorry. I ehpromise I’m—”

“Shut the cluck up!! Never ‘ehpromise’ me anything! Cluck you! Now what in the flying cluck do you want you clucking oyster shell?!”

“Ehplease, ehmisirrah…ehwhat is ehtoday’s eehM eehhI ehhhB?”

Biscuit Pisser lit up. “MIB? Mares in Brown? Mares in Brown! Cluck! I knew it!”

“Ehwhat? Ehno! Ehhow ehstupid ehare ehthese ehhookers of ehyours, ehShitface?”

“Pretty hamned stupid,” Broderica tutted, glancing at Bleu Louie’s business card. “Anyhowwhatsit, the MIB is Seared Briscuit, I think.”

“Ahhh. EhSeared ehBriscuit,” the thing sipped more champagne,

“Ehlovely. Ehthank ehyou.”

“We killed him,” blurted Lady Krumbumbum.

Broderica turned beading eyes to meet her limp gaze. “What the cluck is wrong with you why would you say that?!”

“Ehhhh…Pin Pin!”

Before Broderica could violently slap Krumbumbum, the small brown gremlin used its mental energy to split the glass rose into three sharp shards that zoomed forth and placed themselves threateningly at each of the womens’ necks. They all froze as best they could.

Broderica sighed. “You know, Krumbumbum, it was you that killed the hamned ostrich.”

“Only because Barronness von Biscuit Pisser riled it all up and got it out for blood.”

“Oooh I like that I like the von that’s hood I’m going to keep using that von now hen yea thanks chuppy.”

“Oh go cluck yourself woman.”

“Ehthat’s ehquite ehenough. It is ehclear to ehme ehnow ehthat ehyou are ehnot ehShitface. Or, eh, ehnot ehBleu ehLouie.”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

“I am too Shitface! All my friends that knew me when I was a young lad knew me as Shitface!”

“Ehwell ehthen. Ehwho ehis ehgoing ehto ehM ehI ehB ehnow ehthat ehSeared ehBriscuit is ehdead?”

Broderica looked outside at the track. People were preparing twelve ostriches for their sprint, putting leather masks on their beaky faces and painting numbers on their feathers.

Broderica shrugged and pointed lazily, not even looking where. “That one.”

Everyone then looked at that one. That one, a shrimpy looking ostrich with spiked up head plumage and a wonky looking leg, was coincidentaly named That One, which the blob creature let them know through many annoying ehhhhs. Then, it let them know that there was no way on Gurth that That One could ever win the races, and that clearly they were charlestons. Broderica insisted blindly that That One was indeed the one, for reasons that escaped everyone in the room, including herself.

“EhI’ve ehhad ehhenough of ehthis! Ehcluck ehyou ehdumbasses!”

Broderica’s pupils grew to tiny slits, and her mouth foamed. She gave the impression of a cat with rabies. “Say that again.”

“That again,” said Biscuit Pisser.

“Not you Biscuit Pisser!”

“Sorry sorry I just always wanted to do that.”

Broderica turned her eyes back to the well dressed blob, shaking to the point that the glass shard pricked her neck and beads of blood bubbled up. “You. Say it again, bass turd!”

“Ehwhat? Ehcluck ehyou ehdumbasses?”

Broderica mouthed the word ‘asses’ and then the word ‘ass.’ Ass, ass, ass, A S S. On she mouthed, over and over again mouthing ass, wearing out her face with the amount of times she mouthed ass. The energy in the room grew grim as spit spray from her ass mouthing all over the blob’s tweed suit.

Inside Broderica’s mind a fire was stoking itself. Ass. How could she have lost track of her goal? How could she have allowed herself to lose sight of her quest, her lost companion, her beloved ass? How else could she fill the ass shaped hole in her life? She couldn’t. If she did not save her ass then her ass hole would remain forever empty and wanting.

“My ass hole will be filled!” Broderica declared, seemingly rattling the very firmament of the Gurth. Everyone was frightened and confused.

Everyone included the small brown gremlin, who promptly lost concentration and mentally dropped the glass shards. Immediately Broderica clenched her enormous flask purse’s open hole in her jaws and dashed over to the small brown gremlin’s orb, ripping it out of the air and hurling it at the glass dome wall that enclosed them.

SSHHKHKSHKHKHKKHHHSSHHHHHHH

Both the small brown gremlin’s orb and the magnified wall cracked, and then shattered, showering them in a dizzying spray of glass. Time slowly for a second as Krumbumbum stuck her fingers in her ears.

“Quick!” she cried at her companions, “Squeeze my butt! One cheek per person!”

Disturbed, Broderica and Biscuit Pisser grabbed Krumbumbum’s ass, one cheek per person.

“Squeeze it more firmly!” she demanded.

They obeyed.

“Firmer hamn you this is serious!”

They squeezed it with all their might.

“Cluck! Too firm! Too firm!”

They lightened up a little, and then Krumbumbum unplugged her ears and the glass around them shot away from them like they were one giant negatively magnetized pole.

“EehhhAHHHHH Ehhhthe ehhhpaiiiin eeethhee ehhhorrible ehhhpaaiiinn!!” cried the blob man, crumbling in the barage of glass.

“You can let go of my butt now.”

Krumbumbum waited, and then sighed in exasperatiom.

“Come on Biscuit Pisser let go. Seriously! Cock hamn it Biscuit Pisser!” Krumbumbum swatted at her angrily, and Biscuit Pisser backed away. “Now come on let’s get the cluck out of here.”

As they ran the glass pushed away from them. They approached the small brown gremlin, which Krumbumbum bent down and inspected.

“This small brown gremlin is still alive. Do you know what that means?”

Broderica and Biscuit Pisser looked at Krumbumbum like she’d just asked them to divine the meaning of a slice of cheese.

“Oh my cock haven’t either of you ever read a book?”

They turned to eachother and shrugged.

“Ugh. Clucking figures. Well, watch this shit.”

Krumbumbum tickled the small brown gremlin’s small brown belly, and it began…giggling. It was a terrible, high pitched noise.

“I thought we were getting the cluck out of here. What the cluck is wrong with you, Krumbumbum, really it sounds awful. Cock. I need another drink.”

The giggling soon morphed into another juddering sound, almost a chirping. Or a clucking, and not the vulgar kind. They watched in awe as the small brown gremlin grew quickly like water filling a balloon, and brightened from dark brown to bright white…and before they knew it, standing before them, in the middle of the ostrich racing field which they now noticed had gone from sheering to cries of utter shock, was a humongous, fluffy chicken.

“So what in the flying cluck am I looking at?” Broderica asked through belches of liquor, some saliva drippling down the valley between her cleavage.

“What do you think it is?” Krumbumbum asked.

“I know what it is!” blurted Biscuit Pisser. “It’s some sort of a giant lizard!”

“Cluck off Biscuit Pisser everbody knows you have to go to the Cold Blooded Isles to see giant lizards.”

“It’s a chicken you idiots!” Krumbumbum screamed. “A clucking chicken! Did you not see that huge mural above our heads in the big glass bubble we just shattered? It’s one of those! You two really have no worldly knowledge, do you?”

“A chicken?” Biscuit Pisser stared up at the humongous bird, whose head darted around at light speed as it stared with what appeared to be bludgeoning stupidity at absolutely nothing. Suddenly, it—

BBBUKAAAWWW

—opened its huge clucking jaws and—

BUKAWWWFFFFSHHHHHHHHHHHHH

—a torrent of flame shot from its mouth at a section of the crowd, instantly incincerating them into a smoldering heap. Then it blinked and jiggled its head around quizzically.

“Feathery shit,” they all said in unison. Then they looked at eachother self consciously.