SFH3 Run #1811
|:||Duboce Park, Steiner at Hermann|
|:||Straight 2 Hell & Who's Your Daddy|
|:||Do Her Well|
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, children of all ages, and Douchicorn…” The Perfect Woman paused for effect. “Get ready for THE greatest show on earth. Tonight prepare to be amazed, terrified, and sexually gratified, all in due turn. Our performers will thrill you, delight you… no, no, put that down!”
Cirque du so Lame hobbled away from the side of the tent, which was now leaning precariously.
The Perfect Woman sighed deeply and closed his eyes for a long moment. By the time he opened them, Udder Moron had edged away to find the nearest bar, and Cockamole had gotten the hashshit unstuck out of the donkey.
“As I was saying…” My Little Porno tapped him on the shoulder and handed him a card. “What do you mean Rent Whore won’t swallow fire?” There was a flurry of whispers. “No, Roman Showers wasn’t going to put it out THAT way,” could be heard between the pair.
“We have amazing attractions!” The Perfect Woman scowled so fiercely that even Hoseblower stopped smiling. “See the man who can fit an entire fist inside his hoo-ha!” Whorifist waved. “See our brave and dauntless lion tamer!” Primal Vagina cracked a whip towards Slap a Bag of Dickz, who leapt to attention. “Our sword swallower!” Sir Menage-a-Lot bowed. “Our contortionist!” Gobble My Ass took a knee.
“Watch this dog pull a rabbit out of his hat!” The Perfect Woman pointed to Resting Slut Face, who was leading Just Maverick forward.
Just Doesn’t Get It stared at the now squatting dog. “Maybe it was a rabbit at one point?” he suggested generously.
“We have a gay medium!” The Perfect Woman shoved Dr. Bombardier forward.
“Hey,” Dr. B winked at Just Arno.
“And watch this man make mimosas appear out of thin air!” I’m Drunk waved. “I ddid iit!” he slurred. Good Shit Lollicock appeared to take him back to brunch.
“And our stunt driver will perform feats that will stun your sensibilites!” The van skidded to a stop, Hand Pump at the wheel and Muff Daddy in the passenger’s seat. He waved, before performing a mile-long burnout, screeching away from them into the night.
“He had the keg, right?” Backside Banger’s voice trembled slightly. “Do you think he’s coming back?” Mouth Down South shrugged and took out a flask.
“But now for our main event!”
Saigon Sally hushed the crowd, while Blowqueen and Don’t Tell My Wife About The Big Cock Chains leaned in with anticipation. On All Fours made her way over from the petting zoo, and Fuck Norris and Brave Fart stopped staring at the Painted Ladies. Dick Simmons started flashing everyone and everything in his excitement.
“The premiere attraction, the most amazing sight that will grace your eyeballs in your lifetime. Starring two of the highest revered performers in the history of mankind, you will tell your children and grandchildren about this one folks, provided you know who they are. Presenting the Great Who’s Your Daddy and the Remarkable Straight to Hell in … drumroll please…Old Man Death Fight!”
The spotlight fell on an empty ring, and silence gripped the crowd. Three Fingers swallowed his cotton candy, while Just Liz took a long gulp from her jugs.
“Oy, where’s the tossers?” Cuming Mutha demanded. Cockagami and Millimeter Peter grabbed the pitchforks.
“Guys, guys, calm down,” Bitch’s Bitch held up his hands. “They’re at the bar. No Old Man Death Fight tonight.”
“No Old Man Death Fight?” shrieked Do Her Well.
“No Old Man Death Fight,” Bitch’s Bitch said sternly.
“Oh god,” John Handcock moaned. “No Old Man Death Fight.”
“How can we go on like this?”Gondolarrhea cried to the sky. “What does life even mean at this point?”
“Guys, guys,” Leave It To Cleavage drew their attention. “I think we can do better than Old Man Death Fight.”
“Better than Old Man Death Fight? How is that even possible?” Chicken Bone Her wondered.
“With Boob Slap and Whack-a-boob?” The pair presented themselves proudly. “Easy!” Leaning against each other, they put their hands on the hem of their tank tops and began to draw them up.
“Masterbaster!” Wee Wee kicked the figure sleeping on the ground. He drooled a bit. “Masterbaster, get up!”
“Hmmm.” Masterbaster groaned. “No, the boob fight’s about to start.”
“God damn it.” Wee Wee stomped off to get a cup of coffee. “I hate it when you eat the good drugs.”