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chantrea -> RE: Lets write a story (7/19/2006 10:08:30 AM)
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as she wearily gets down on her hands and knees thinking there are much better ways of pleasing the Free in this position than mopping up the remains of dessert, trea snaps her fingers at a sudden thought. recalling that in the interests of preserving icons of Free activities, such as a foothall, a bent piece of metal that once was the goalpost at someone's college ball park, and several pairs of suspiciously tight pants, some clever individual had collapsed the goodyear blimp and put it in storage. without a thought, trea dashes to the cargo bay and pulls down on the lever opening the airlock door, watching as hordes of memorable (and not so memorable) artifacts go sailing out into the cold harsh vacuum of space, taking deep breaths from the helium cannister meant for reinflating the blimp so as to not asphyxiate, lessons well learned in college and steel both, and shoves the blimp out the airlock door, watching with disdain as it goes sailing out to wrap around the approaching dildo of doom, coating it in a thick layer of latex and safeguarding it. she grins and closes the airlock door, before waiting for the pressure to equalize, before squeaking in a voice that would make minnie mouse envious "guess they were right, condoms do protect you"
written with help from a friend... cause my brain is fried!
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