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He could no longer stand on his two feet.

  • He could no longer stand on his two feet. He could no longer stand at all, for he couldn't have imagined that
  • it was actually all "over." He'd had the manes of power in his liver-spotted fist. Gone. Back to citizen. Senior citizen. He couldn't stand, so Cheney left the Whitehouse in a whee
  • lbarrow powered by a high-octane blend of arrogance and spite. As Cheney's intrepid gaze swept over DC, lawns were scorched, heads exploded and monuments to lesser men
  • crumbled. Bush couldn't help wetting his pants. He never thought he'd admit it, but Cheney was a weapon of mass destruction on his own. 'I don't negotiate with terrorists,' he
  • had always told himself, but all he could do now was whisper the words quietly as he was led away down the corridor. He struggled, but
  • the manacles were tight as he was dragged to the obliette. But his whispers did not fall on deaf ears, the rats heard him. By midnight, a horde approached the prison, prepared for
  • the escape of the Ratgod from the oubliette of Queen Felinia. They tunneled to the catnippy pit, whiskers naked tails a twitchin'. The Queen was in heat & her many suitors
  • were lined up to court her. Queen Felinia, despite her fiery furry loins, played it extremely cool. But then Ratgod popped his ragged face out from the catnippy pit & shouted
  • "I want you to want me. I need you to need me. I'd love you to love me. I'm beggin' you to beg me." It was a cheap trick, but it worked. Queen Felinia bent over & bestowed Ratgod
  • a kiss while singing "He's a whore. He'd do anything for money. He's a whore. The things that he writes. He's a whore. The stories he can tell. He's a whore. Morning & night."

1 Comments

  1. SlimWhitman Nov 02 2013 @ 05:42

    I like. Oh, and the Ratgod... The Ratgod and Mr. Cat http://foldingstory.com/31cba/r45ifo/

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