Chapter 4...
Visibly shaking, PJM placed his hands on Legless’ shoulders and began to relay the story...

“After soiling my precious golf GIT, I was pretty pissed off with the three of them, the triumvirate of treacherous ‘toilet-traders’ that they are…but after a while I felt what I thought was a twinge of guilt (which later turned out to be a semi-on) and I went looking for them…

Legless looked on, feigning interest: “Go on…” he said calmly…

“As I drove”, continued PJM “…my suspicions were first aroused that something was ‘amiss’ when a VW camper van sped by, featuring multiple scantily clad ladies all with their heads hanging out of the windows vomiting profusely.

I then knew that they must be close…vomiting girls are like a ‘trade mark’ with those three…

PJM continued stoically, pausing momentarily to mop the sweat from his brow…do up his flies, and detract attention from the fresh spluff stain that had slopped down his trollies due to Chickenlady heroically answering PJM’s request for ‘urgent stress relief’.

He continued: “The boys had been dropped off at a service station when I finally found them”, he said. “The state they were in was indescribable – Chart cat was still splattered with his own repugnant effluence, Spanky was shellshocked…walking like John Wayne after an arduously long ride on a particularly stubborn donkey, and as for Pooflake…well, he always looks pretty rough to be honest.

Together, they looked like a collection of monged-out shit splattered extras from the porn version of ‘Planet of the apes’...

Legless pressed further: “But in the name of a dingo’s dongler, it doesn’t explain what happened to their faces?”

“Hold your horses!” exclaimed PJM authoratively before continuing, “…and what’s with the Aussie accent, Legless?...I thought you were a Geordie?”

Legless then ripped open his doctor’s coat, showing his buffed six-pack of rippling muscles which displayed a huge tattoo of ‘Super’ Alan Shearer guzzling a bottle of ‘Newkie Brun’ whilst sat atop the ‘Angel of the North’ statue…

“Oh, I’m still a Geordie, cobber,” replied Legless with a wink,”I’ve just spent a little too long in OZ”

(At this point, Legless’ strapping male assistant, who happened to be named ‘Oz’ shifted about sheepishly, made his excuses and left.)

Somewhat flummoxed, PJM continued with the story: “So there we were, nostril deep in turd stains, spunk-bubbles and stadium memorabila. Pooflake was deliriously saluting a petrol pump whilst singing the national anthem, and chart cat was lamenting about exactly what would have happened if CHCB had managed to catch up with them….when, from out of nowhere….”

“Yes…?” enquired Legless breathlessly, briefly forgetting that he was usually above all this nonsensical bollocks…

“They jumped out at us!” retorted PJM whimsically.

“Who?” asked Legless, nearly dropping his can of Fosters piss lager with anticipation.

“Why…The women of B3ta,of course!” Exclaimed PJM. “Every single one of them! It appears that the ‘Wembley incident’ was the last straw…and they’ve been lying in wait all this time…waiting to make these three testosterone fuelled terrorists of titilation pay for their crimes to ladyfolk all these years!

“Holy snags on the Barbie!” cried Legless, adjusting the corks dangling from his hat and whistling ‘Waltzing Matilda’

“Yeeeeees…….well…..Unfortunately, Spanky didn’t help matters at that point” said PJM despondantly, “…When he saw the massive crowd of girls, he dropped his pants (which were like rags at this point) and told them all to ‘take a ticket and form an orderly queue’…

…This didn’t go down too well…

Legless slowly shook his head, sending the corks flying all over the place.

PJM continued, physically moved by the emotion of it all: “It was a bloodbath. The women pounced on the three helpless man-muck machines and were pawing at them like they were pieces of meat!

Of course they loved it…at first. As they were stripped, covered in lotion and placed on sacrificial stone tablets…Pooflake mentioned something about how he ‘normally has to pay about £50 an hour for this kind of treatment’ before they were starkly informed that they were going to be the subject of a ‘perfect B3ta revenge’…and that they were to be literally ‘fucked to death’ by a rampant hoard of horny female B3tards.

“Oh, the horror!” Seethed Legless who then muttered under his breath: “Jammy cunts…Did they not have time to call me? *sigh*

PJM interrupted, as he was now in full flow: “Fearing for my own safety, I combined my mountain climbing skills, MOSSAD training, and Captan Scarlett-esque general heroism, by bravely abandoning them, scrambling up a nearby hillside and watching the slaughter from a vantage point above…

With his eyes filling with tears he sobbed “Big Girls’ Blouse, Tourettes, and The Grammar Badger, were first. They each climbed aboard the stunned men’s faces and began to grind their powerful, *ahem* highly experienced *ahem* pelvic muscles and aromatic flappages so deeply and forcefuilly into the three unsuspecting boys that it actually started to peel the skin from their hapless skulls!

I recall Pooflake tried to keep a brave stance on it all. He said: ‘Ah well, if you gotta go…go with a smile“ before sticking his tongue out and joining in, and slowly starting to succumb under the suffocation.

As one after the other, the women gyrated on top of our heroes, Spanky whimpered pathetically:

”Steady on girls, my gob’s getting whiplash” …but to no avail. Secretly turned on by non-stop reams of naughty posts, The girls were positively gagging for it!

Then, sorrowfully, as the men’s crumbled bodies still twitched before the last droplets of life were drained from them, the thrusting throngs of women slowly parted…and the svelte frame of VampyreCat appeared, in full 70’s style sex-kitten clobber.

She walked up to the sacrificial monument and her voice boomed:

“And Lo, by the power of B3ta, you three filthy fuck-addicts will be punished for your crimes, for we are ALL Vampyres, and we will now feast upon your lengthy lamb cannons like a frenzy!”

“I knew there was something weird about you lot…” said Chart Cat condescendingly.

“Hey girls, there’s PLENTY of me to go round” said Spanky defiantly.

Not put off, VampyreCat continued: “…and you will live forever, forced to roam the earth in the hours of darkness…with your stumpy, semi-masticated cocks...

“Semi what?” asked Chart cat.

“Masticated…” Said Vampyrecat with a glare.

“Oh, never mind…carry on” said Chart cat.

“Right, where was I?…oh yes, your chewed up bell-ends will stand in a permanent state of solidity…and you will be forced to spend eternity shagging and shagging us until you find it so boring that you never write about it again! MWWWUUUHAAHAAAHAAAAA!”

“Fat fucking chance” whispered Pooflake,

“Sounds like a plan!” Said Spanky cheerfully rubbing his hands together “Here’s my knob, and you’ll have no problem finding a vein!”

“Any chance of a swift ‘blowie’ first?” said Chart Cat, following up with “…you know…’while you’re down there’ “*nods knowingly*

“SILENCE!” screeched VampyreCat.

They women then smiled, sprouting vicious, pointy teeth then grabbed the three perverted purveyors of putrid porn and puns, before one at a time clasping their mouths tightly around the cocks, (then they sucked a bit – I mean, they’re only half human after all).

Finally,they then bit down deeply, and killed the intrepid trio to death with a spurt of blood, jizz and pappered underpants

“ At this point,“ said PJM: “I sneaked back down…managed to grab Chickenlady, give her a firm ‘shake’, bring her out of her hypnotic trance and get her to take me away from there. and capitalise on the general horniness of the situation to get a lovely nosh into the bargain

...Then I called the police, they picked up the bodies and here we are…”

“Incredible!” wheezed Legless, gazing over the mutilated corpses.

Suddeny, there was a *Parp* noise from one of the autopsy tables.

“What’s that?” enquired PJM nervously…you don’t think…they’re…coming back to life?

“Nah”, said Legless ”,…but you know what?” he continued, with a glint in his eye…I’ve always thought that ‘Chart Cat’ was a good looking bloke…this could be the only chance I get…”

And as he reached towards him, the three faceless, feacally-challenged flange-a-holic fuckwits, with their collective hard-ons still raging to vein-bursting capacity, sat bolt upright on their coroner’s tables

Legless thought to himself 'For fuck’s sake…all that’s missing now is the theme tune to ‘Thriller’...

“NNNnngggg…brains!” said Chart cat, before ejecting such a massive globule of spunk so thick and lumpy that it actually grew legs of it’s own and walked out to find a career in advertising.

“Nnnnggggggrrr…tits!” said Spanky, as he unloaded an ungodly torrent of bollock bilge directly into the unsuspecting mouth of Oz, Legless’ faithful assistant, who had just walked in to ‘pick up his lunchbox’

"*yawn* Do you perchance have any cider in your possession?” enquired Pooflake, looking exactly the same as he usually does…only without a face.

The twat-tastic zombiefied trio then started lunging for Legless and PJM before they were interrupted...possibly for the final time...

“Wait…stop everything…WHAT'S THAT!?!” Cried PJM, pointing to the sky in despair…




…well…do you want to know?
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Thu 30 Apr 2009, 13:12, 7 replies)

Fuck yes I want to know!
Now tell me before that semi masticated cock becomes completely masticated!
(Poppet some assembly required., Thu 30 Apr 2009, 13:16, closed)

Top work
my good man!

Lovely job!!!
( SpankyHanky, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 13:17, closed)

Oh crap
was it me riding on Brian Blessed's back, trying to fend off his crazy wings?
( fuck shit up the best you never had, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 13:20, closed)

Fucking A!
Superb effort man!

I've had to explain to my HR manager why I'm grinning like chickenlady is under my desk again.

*clicketty*
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Thu 30 Apr 2009, 13:23, closed)

Aww, it's a bit rushed...

But I thought the ladies would be used to that by now.

*hands over baton of shite*
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Thu 30 Apr 2009, 13:26, closed)

This all sounds
a bit contrived.
(Scritty Bakerman., Thu 30 Apr 2009, 13:25, closed)

Yay! I didn't get sloppy seconds.
I've got the horn now.
( girlinthehole, Thu 30 Apr 2009, 13:27, closed)