"That doesn't mean SHE didn't know it. Holy shit are you dumb" Ken understood why Beauregard was such a failure in life. Idiocy like this was scary.
"SHE. SAID. TWEER!" Beauregard yelled. "TWEER!"
Ken looked for the wheel, to spit it again. Beauregard needed to get out of this story, pronto. Spencer too. He stopped in the bathroom to poop before hearing out. He pooped, wiped, flushed, then washed his hands. All perfectly normal pooping activities. He made a mental note to track down this Marni girl to get the real answer.
My, but that was entertaining, wasn't it?
"I thought he'd never leave," said Spencer as he picked the last of the splinters from his belly button.
"The dick thinks he's so smart," snarled Beauregard. "He makes me sick."
But Spencer didn't hear him. He'd gone into the bathroom to masturbate to his autographed nine-by-five glossy of Justin Bieber. But, alas, it was not. Regular pooping activities are sooooooo boring, and Marni knew it. She was not the least bit interested in plain old poop. Diarrhea is so much more entertaining. And spicy too!
Suddenly a fence came crashing through the window, impaling Beauregard and Spencer. "Again??" whined Spencer as he and Beauregard crapped their pants in unison. Ken began to laugh, but then cried out in pain as a fence post inserted itself in his asshole. Unable to crap his pants because of the fence post blocking the exit, he vomited instead.
Ken updated Beauregard on the investigation. "I found Marni" he said "but she's across the country. If you want me to ask her about 'tweer' you need to pay for the plane ticket."
"Just call her, you idiot!" Beauregard said.
"I also need to know if she's still fat" Ken reminded Beauregard.
"Wait - how did you know she - " Beauregard could barely speak "YOU KNOW MARNI!"
Regis Philbin, who had been eavesdropping at the window, shouted, "EVERYBODY knows Marni! I'm tellin' ya, that chick spreads her legs so wide you can see her tonsils!" He pulled a stale Twinkie from his pocket and smushed it into his left ear before scuttling away like a crab.
Ken chuckled. "That Regis! Such a kidder! But seriously, Marni is a slut. I've fucked her more times than I can remember."
"Postage stamp," said Spencer for no particular reason. "Licorice."
Ken pulled a sugar cube from his rectum and fed it to Spencer. "There, there, little buddy, you go take a nap now."
"Wanna monkey," chirped Spencer just as a fence came crashing through the window, impaling Beauregard and Spencer. "Again??" whined Spencer as he and Beauregard crapped their pants in unison. Ken began to laugh, but then cried out in pain as a fence post inserted itself in his asshole. Unable to crap his pants because of the fence post blocking the exit, he vomited instead.
Good heavens, the entertainment value of the paragraphs above was SO HIGH.... it makes me want to reach for a beverage. Perhaps a tall glass of... sugar free lemonade. Mmmmm. And then, I'll need to change my pants. They're a bit dirty with blood stains, grass stains, etc. I'll put on some clean sweatpants, and sit back and relax on my easy chair. And continue to live. THE BEGINNING
"Sugar-free lemonade?!" shouted Regis Philbin. "Who the hell drinks that garbage? See these abs? Rock hard! That isn't from sugar-free shit, baby!" He cartwheeled away while fireworks shot out of his ass.
"Fireflies taste like chicken!" chirped Spencer.
"Is this Great Literature or what?!" cried Ken just as a fence came crashing through the window, impaling Beauregard and Spencer. "Meatloaf!" whined Spencer as he and Beauregard each crapped the other's pants. Ken began to laugh, but then cried out in pain as a fence post inserted itself in his asshole. Unable to crap his pants because of the fence post blocking the exit, he vomited instead.
This time, just to break the monotony, Beauregard got on all fours and began lapping up Ken's vomit much like a dog would. He looked up at Ken, grinning wildly with a string of vomit dangling from his chin, and said, "Mmmmmmmm, the chunks are the best part!"
"Chunks!" chirped Spencer.
And he began to sing 'War Pigs' while dancing the Macarena. "Generals gathered in their masseeeeeeeees. Just like witches at black masses. In the fields the bodies burniiiiiiing. Burning? Oh no! Did I leave the stove on?" ...contribute to our story.