ManMan 2 - Versus the Yiff Empire

Yeah, so I’m just sitting on my ass watching the TV, that’s the television and not the transsexual, because we don’t even fucking own a transsexual because the tube in our last one fucking blew up and the transsexual went purple, I think it was gangrene or shit, and after her legs fell off there wasn’t much point in it anymore so we tossed her on the skip and a bunch of bums took her in and I think they ate her, I dunno, we kinda lost touch after I told her to fuck off, the legless bitch.

So the wrestling is on and Rowdy Roddy Piper is ripping someone’s head off an I’m eating nachos and Cockboy is sitting in his protective plastic bubble because his immune system is the biggest fucking pussy in the history of biggest fucking pussies, he’s like “OMG I’ve got like one white blood cell left, save me from the pneumonia!” and I’m like, “Shut it you fucking poof,” because there really isn’t much more that you can say about his immense and total gayness.

Once the wrestling finishes, and Rowdy Roddy Piper wins, because he has fought like 7000 matches and he’s a little bit brain damaged now, but the best fucking wrestlers are the brain damaged ones, and this documentary comes on about these furry fags who dress up like giant wolves and rub against each other, and I’m like “This is not fucking Sky Sports, which fucking fag changed the fucking channel!” and of course it’s the fag in the bubble with the remote control in there so I can’t get it.

So then there is this picture of this cute rabbit toy, like Buster from Tiny-Toons, I used to have one when I was a kid and I fucking loved that rabbit man, I cuddled it at night and was really fucking pissed when I went up to my room and Buster and Bob, my dad’s dog, are like lying on the floor of my bedroom and my dog was humping Buster’s ass, so I was like “You sick fucking fuck!” and I booted the motherfucker through the second floor widow and out onto the street and then it got hit by a removals van and that was the last we ever saw of that particular rabbit-humping piece of fanny dog cheese dog that broke my fucking window and I had to feed Buster into the grinder beneath the sink because I was not cuddling a rabbit drenched in dog cum, it’s fucking unhygienic.

So anyway, this rabbit toy is on TV and then this big fucking dick hoves into view from the left side of the frame and sticks itself into the rabbit, and I’m like “No you fucking do not!” but it did and this poor defenseless rabbit is getting raped and I’m having like childhood flashbacks and I’m like “NOOOOOO!!!” and my psychologist says the only way to deal with trauma is to face it and knock fuck out of it, that’s why I broke his jaw and nearly went to prison for it, but that’s a different story, so I’m like “I’m going to kill these fucking furry rabbitfuckers, TO THE MANMOBILE!” and Cockboy is like, “That might be difficult because you were drunk last night and crashed the fucking Manmobile into that schoolbus of kids and it’s not going to be out of the garage for about a year,” and I shouts, “well, fuck that then, TO THE MANPLANE!” and Cockboy is like “We don’t have a Manplane, what the fuck is the point of a Manplane when we can use our superpowers to fly you complete greased knob,” and no one calls me a greased knob so I threw a cactus at the cunt and burst his bubble and he’s like screaming about germs and I just laughed and left him like that, the prick.

So I fly to San-Francisco to this Furry Convention thing to deal out some justice, and I met some guy called Barry there, he was like “Hi, I’m a wolf!” and I’m like “Nice to meet you, I’m a fucking psychotic drug addled gay superhero and I’m going to tear your head off and present it to your fucking father to use as a fucking bowling ball,” and he just laughed so I shoved two pencils up his nose, grabbed him by the scrotum and took off back into the sky.

He was like, “Why do you hate me just because I’m different!” and we pelted though the stratosphere, and I was like “Because I fucking can and you fuckers make me sick!” and then he was sick because I started swinging him by the balls and he totally barfed on a queue of old ladies waiting for the bus from like two miles up, which was quite funny but I still acted all pissed off. I spotted a glue factory below, and I was like, “So you want to be furry do you, wolf fucker?” and dumped him in a vat of general-purpose woodglue. While he was drowning in that I nipped off to the zoo and used my x-ray vision to chemo-therapy a family of chipmunks who looked like they might have cancer, because I care about wildlife and shit, then once all their hair had fallen out, and there is no sight funnier than a bunch of naked chipmunks let me tell you, I stuffed all the hair into a plastic Tesco’s carrier bag that I keep handy for shopping or looting houses and flew back to the glue factory to see how Barry the Wolf Molester was getting on.

He was like crawling along on the ground trying not to stick to the walkway and wondering how to breathe when your windpipe has been glued shut, which was almost as funny as the naked chipmunks, and I dumped the bag of hair all over him, rolled him about in it for a while, and I was like “Now you are a fucking wolf, how does it feel you fucking yiffy cunt?” and he’s like “Mmmmmph!” which I presume was fur language for “My fucking lips are glued shut and I can’t see help me I’m going to die!” which was the first sensible thing the bastard has said in the two minutes since we had met.

So I grabs him by the balls again and takes back off into the sky, I tried to make him sick again as we flew over a Yankee’s game but he just choked for a while and I remembered that his lips were glued and there were pencils up his nose and I wondered if he could be sick out of his ears, it was all academic anyway because in two-and-a-half-minutes his brain would be dead, har har.

He was quite popular back at the convention, everyone assumed he was a giant plush or some shit and it was only after a bear called Norman go his dick stuck up Barry’s glue tube anus and had to get it sawn off at the hospital did they realize what had happened. They kicked up hell with rallies and the occasional newspaper article, but nothing really happened and I got away with it because I knew something they did not: No one gives a flying fuck about their perverted fur games or their warped and shithouse crazy fucking minds and no one ever will, The Fucking End.

Back to the Writing page, heathen