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Thread: Young Axl Rose and Cake Cream in 2022! :D

  1. #581
    "Nice bingo wings," Judge V sneered, "but it won't cost you those." Judge V then picked up the penis costume and threw it at Old Axl.

    "Wait, *I* have to become the man in the penis costume?" Old Axl asked incredulously. He had always had a nagging thought in the back of his mind that the penis costume was more than just a running gag in his meandering life story. He realized he could not escape his fate of becoming Nathan. Because blushing shyly was back on the menu, he blushed shyly and asked Judge V what happened to Nathan, the previous man in the penis costume.

    "He served his time and graduated to the next plane of existence." Judge V stuck out his rear and pooted in the direction of a potted ficus tree, whose leaves trembled in the hot gust. Then he left.

    Axl put on the penis costume and cleared his throat to call the attention of his band plus the other characters whose names we forgot. "Ahem. Brothers, I must now go forth and become Nathan, the man in the penis costume.

    "I will miss you terribly," said Billy, terribly.

    "I will remember you fondly," said the other Axl, fondly while fondling himself.

    "We will replace you quickly," said Cake Cream, quickly.

    Axl did not want to cause a scene, so he grabbed one last frozen calzone and ran off into the night. The streets were dark and the noises were scary. Where would he go and what would he do?

    As he wandered through certain half-deserted streets, the muttering retreats of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels, and sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells: streets that follow like a tedious argument of insidious intent to lead you to an overwhelming question ...

    "Do you need a lift?" came a hideous gravelly voice from the drivers side of a 1984 Cadillac Cimarron. Axl-come-Nathan the man in the penis costume was startled out of his reverie. It was a woman in a Walgreens employee uniform. "I just got a thing for men in penis costumes. Can't explain it."

    "Okay," said the man in the penis costume as he approached the passenger side. He removed a hideous handbag from the seat and chucked it in the back. The glove box was open and inside it he espied numerous lottery tickets. "So where are we headed?" he asked while blushing shyly.

    "Gonna hold up a Dairy Queen." And with that, she floored it.

  2. #582
    With a flourish of flatulence Axl-cum-Nathan's mysterious, powerful benefactor and soon to be Master got out of her well-used Datsun B-210 with his hand in hers; "Be brave."

    The Flagler kid and that new hire, the Mexican chick, were playing hide the salami in a back room during a lull at DQ when the dynamic duo entered the hallowed dairy emporium.

    "Holy shit, Conchita, you aren't gonna believe this" said the Flagler kid, mid-thrust; he'd espied the dopey looking black chick and the asshole in a penis costume.

    The Flagler kid withdrew his throbbing love missile with a loud 'QUEEF.'

    Conchita, daughter of a whore and following in her mother's footsteps also espied the dopey looking black chick and the asshole in the penis costume.

    "Hey Flagler kid, do you see the dopey looking black chick and the asshole in the penis costume?"

    He looked again: "Yup. Glad we're locked in the back room and scoping this shit out on closed circuit TV. Fuck those guys. Come back here and finish me off."

    Conchita came back, finished him off, and was thanked, both in English AND in Incan.

    She genuflected, welcomed him and they shook hands and bowed to one another.
    Last edited by MisterV; 05-28-2023 at 01:55 AM.
    What, Me Worry?

  3. #583
    The Walgreen's employee gave Axl nka Nathan a covid mask to match her own and said "Wear this, and follow me in, and whatever you do, don't worry, be happy."

    With that they entered the dairy bar: empty, nobody home.

    "Shit, they're probably out fucking in the back room, they do that a lot" said the perceptive wannabe robber.

    Axl slouched next to her: barely tumescent, far from turgid.

    "Go away" came a disembodied voice from the in-ceiling speakers; "We just built the beast with two backs and we don't serve customers in penis costumes."

    "Come out here right now and make us some strawberry blizzards or so help me I'll make them myself and I won't even pay for it."

    "OK, let me zip up."

    The Flagler kid zipped up, and looking Conchita in the eyes said "Next time, we'll do anal;" he then went to the service counter.

    "Two strawberry blizzards" said the Walgreen's worker.

    While the Flagler kid set about constructing the caloric nightmares he espied the costumed penis growing in length and girth and then out of the top of its head spouted effluvia.

    "Egad" thought the Flagler kid, "this prick really loves these blizzards."

    Blizzards prepared, he gave them to the woman and only then noticed she was wearing brass knuckles; "Give me all the money."

    Not willing to die or take a beating for DQ, the Flagler kid opened the register and while handing over the meager contents two cops came in for their daily fix; they saw the brass knuckles and the fellow in the penis costume but could care less, having been defunded.

    "Nice costume" said one to Axl cum-Nathan; he thanked the cop and was welcomed.

    Back in the car, she counted the loot: "Twenty-two bucks. Not bad. Stick with me and you'll never go without a strawberry blizzard."

    She espied something odd; hitting the brakes she stared, then looked at Axl and smiled.

    "Well what do we have here: somebody on the sidewalk festooned in a vagina costume. Go get her, Sparky."

    Axl swallowed hard: it was show time.
    Last edited by MisterV; 05-29-2023 at 08:20 AM.
    What, Me Worry?

  4. #584
    Nathaxl got out of the 75 Ford Pinto and cautiously approached the vaginal figure on the sidewalk. It was an old man, asleep, probably from downing the contents of the empty bottles beside him. Nathaxl espied something in the sleeping man's hand, cylindrical with a red button on top. As Nathaxl crept forward, the vag suddenly woke up. The drunk grinned a wee grin.

    "Surprise bitches!" he barked and then depressed the red button. For a moment Nathaxl's heart stopped. Is this how I die, he wondered, blown to smithereens by a bum in a costume worse than mine? But to his surprise the button did not trigger an explosion. Instead, the vagina costume rapidly inflated with helium and the old man began to float up into the rancid Miami night sky. The old man had yet one more trick up his -- sleeve, so to speak. From a satchel he threw tampons down to the people below.

    As Nathaxl watched the spectacle in awe he felt a pang of envy. O to be free like that.

    "Grab some of those tampons and get back into the car," his new master hissed.

    What could he do but obey? Bending down to pick up tampons while wearing a penis costume was difficult and the odd position forced out much gas from his colon. Overhead he heard a commotion. The bum in the floating vagina costume was brawling with someone in a floating tits costume. They were duelling with what appeared to be sharpened baguettes in an attempt to puncture each other's flying apparatus. The scene felt vaguely familiar and foreboding.

  5. #585
    Dumbest thread ever!

  6. #586
    Originally Posted by jbjb View Post
    Dumbest thread ever!
    "Stupid is as stupid does." --- Forrest Gump
    What, Me Worry?

  7. #587
    "What is your name, Master?"

    "You can call me Sasha, slave."

    Nathaxl thanked her, shook her hand and was welcomed; he chilled briefly then asked "Can I take off this penis costume? It's hot and makes me itch."

    "No, leave it on, we have work to do."

    Sasha pulled into an Arco station and used the robbery proceeds to fill the tank in her clapped out Yugo, then they motored to the local casino.

    "OK, you distract them while they're emptying the slot machines and then I'll steal the money boxes and meet you out front."

    Nathaxl found the staff emptying the slots in the high limit area; he walked toward them and then fell to the floor and went into what looked like convulsions.

    "A hard man is good to find" said a slot tech who embraced Nathaxl and started stroking his body / shaft up and down, saying "Ride me honey, mama needs some lovin'."

    To further enhance the ruse, Nathaxl had a mouthful of milk and while writhing on the floor he spit it out the hole in the top of the penis costume.

    People had flocked around to gaze in abject amazement at the scene of a slot tech jerking off a giant penis; they clapped and roared their approval when the huge prick seemingly "came."

    This gave Sasha the opportunity she needed; she grabbed some cash boxes while nobody was looking and left.

    Nathaxl espied his Master leaving; he stopped shaking, got up and said to the slot tech "Thanks, I needed that" and walked out the door.

    His Master was gone!

    She'd left him there, alone, bedecked as a phallus: he felt (and looked) as unloved as a used condom.

    "Fuck me" he said aloud, then started laughing hysterically at the irony of that statement.

    Nathaxl punctuated the moment with a monstrous blast of intestinal gas which caused his costume to expand and carry him up, up and away, where he once again espied the old drunken cunt dueling with big tits.

    Sans a baguette, Nathaxl used his head as a weapon and at ramming speed he speared the pussy lips dead center; sated, he lit up a cigarette and slowly descended, hoping against hope that his new Master had not really foresaken him.
    Last edited by MisterV; 05-30-2023 at 10:11 PM.
    What, Me Worry?

  8. #588
    Nathaxl was dazed and confused at being abandoned by his new Master, Sasha.

    "It must be something I said or did that pissed her off" he mused; "I better keep the penis costume on in case she returns, so she can espy me."

    Small children, dogs and drag queens followed him as he wandered the streets, lost and lonely until ... "EUREKA! MASTER!"

    Sasha pulled her Yugo over in a cloud of smoke, got out, slapped Nathaxl silly and said "It's all your fault that Todd won't let me post more often."

    As her slave Nathaxl dared not question his Master's claim; he went limp and absorbed her furious tirade.

    "I'm outa here."

    With that final declaration she left in a cloud of smoke.

    Truly bereft, abandoned, and wholly without hope or direction Nathaxl trudged toward the ocean, intent on swimming to the horizon, when ...

    "Hey buddy, you need a lift?"

    A short, swarthy old fart in a loud, flashy newer Dodge invited him in; Nathaxl farted in glee and entered the conveyance.

    "I need you to help with something; hi, my name is Sob Ringer, what's yours?"

    Nathaxl said nothing, totally gob-smacked.

    "Whatever; I pack 9 1/2 inches but cannot really measure up to a big prick like you. Here, read this script while I film it on my phone and post it on a couple gambling forums."

    Happy to be of use, Nathaxl read aloud through the pee hole in his penis costume the following: "I swear that I saw Sob Ringer sell his Newell to an Israeli for a mountain of cash. I was with him many times when he beat the casinos using the double up bug, and we were together when he won $1.5 million at video poker in Resorts World. His nephew {my next door neighbor} just discovered that KJ actually lives in the tunnels and Mr. V is posting from a padded room in a Portland insane asylum."

    "Thanks, you can get out now."

    Nathaxl got out, confused, yet more determined than ever to swim to France.
    Last edited by MisterV; 06-01-2023 at 11:10 AM.
    What, Me Worry?

  9. #589
    Sasha rolled down the window of her 73 Morris Marina and let the hot wind blow through her matted hair as she cruised up the I-95. The car briefly became airborne after hitting an errant alligator, and the impact jolted her out of her reverie. It dawned on her that she was in possession of something more valuable than a box of cash stolen from the casino. She had a car that could magically change into any make and model. Why was she in this rattling jalopy of an Altoids tin on wheels when she could be riding pretty in a G-Wagen like a Real Housewife? She pulled over into a Shell station. The "S" was not properly lit and so the station sign read something more ominous. She parked away from the pumps, turned off the ignition, and concentrated on her ideal car. Sasha closed her eyes and said "G-Wagen" three times while clicking her heels. The car groaned and gave off and eerie light and to her delight, changed into a Barney-purple G-Wagen with lime green trim, perfectly matching her hideous handbag.

    Of course, nothing is for free.

    As Sasha started the ignition and checked her rearview mirror, she saw in the reflection a figure standing next to the pumps. He was not pumping gas and did not appear to belong to a car. His arms were folded across his chest and he was staring directly at Sasha's G-Wagen. She turned her head to get a better look, but he had vanished. Turning back to the dashboard to admire the fancy driving display, she was startled to see the man standing directly in front of her car. She turned on the headlights to blind him, which only made him laugh.

    "Who are you and what do you want?" Sasha screamed. She locked all the doors. The man leaned on the hood smiling at her with a grin that literally stretched from ear to ear because he had been cut just so. "I can mow you down!" Sasha screamed again.

    "You know who I am."

    Sasha farted a wee fart. He was right. She did recognize him.

    "How you enjoying your magic car, sweetheart?"

  10. #590
    Sasha quaked with emotion and let loose a flood of stinky urine (that damned asparagus) which pooled upon the fine Corinthian leather of her '79 Chrysler Cordoba.

    "You're that guy, the one who has a pet dwarf."

    "He's not my pet, my dear: Tattoo is my slave. Yes, it is I. You know me by many names: Dan Druff, Todd Witteles, but of course I am Mr. Roarke; it is time you left this place, this forum. The fantasy is over."

    Sasha was in full panic mode; such was the depth of her despair that she didn't notice the shit dripping down her her legs into her Crocs.

    "But ... I don't WANT to leave."

    "You must leave, my dear, as the fantasy you signed up for has played through; time to return to your old life."

    With that he snapped his fingers and the members of what she'd known as "Cake Cream" emerged from the thicket with cudgels and capped jars of fire ants in hand.

    "Come along quietly to The Plane, my dear: otherwise ... well, it won't be pretty."

    Sasha knew the jig was up (and almost gone).

    "But I don't WANT to go back home; mama makes me clean my room, my boss makes me suck her toes and my best friend is a homeless schizophrenic; I LIKE it here."

    "Sasha, you knew the rules when you first came to Fantasy Island: you knew this day would come."

    Defeated, Sasha took the dwarf's tiny paw in her meaty claw and allowed him to escort her to The Plane, which was revving for take off as she entered.

    "Goodbye, old Axl, new Axl, Cake Cream, Mark Riley and Nathaxl."

    She wept vociferously; her tears were so intense that they masked the identity of her fellow passenger; soon they cleared and ..."

    "Judge V ! What are YOU doing here? I thought you were a creation of Fantasy Island."

    The derailed arbiter smiled, then said "I've come to take you home, daughter dear: Who's your daddy?"

    Zounds: the nagging question of her paternity had finally been answered.

    He laughed, but his guffaw was trumped by her piercing scream as the old Ford tri-motor became airborne.

    "To infinity, and beyond."
    Last edited by MisterV; 06-02-2023 at 10:12 AM.
    What, Me Worry?

  11. #591
    Sashathan was buckled in her seat aboard the Airbus A350 when she decided to attempt one last hurrah of a magic trick. She clicked her heels 3 times and muttered the words "Cessna 172 Skyhawk" in a low tone, inaudible to the rest of the plane's passengers. To her delight, the Airbus glowed and made terrifying creaking noises until it shrank into the beloved 2-seater personal aircraft. She found herself in the pilot's seat without a clue how to fly a plane, nor how to radio for help, and so it didn't take long for the plane to crash into the canopy of the Sumatran jungle. Dazed and confused by the crash landing, Sashathan let herself fall out of the dangling aircraft and landed inside a giant carnivorous flower. Just as the flower was about to swallow her, it made an aboutface and spat her out unceremoniously.

    "Blech! you taste awful. What the hell kid of bug are you?" the flower inquired

    "Excuse me," Sasha retorted, "I am a person, not a bug. But I have not been treated with the dignity that a person-who-is-not-a-bug deserves. I have been wronged. Grievously wronged."

    "Look, sorry about spitting you out like that, I just wasn't expecting that, uh, particular flavor," the flower apologized.

    "Not you," Sashathan explained. "I have been treated like yesterday's trash on countless internet forums. Treated like a joke and not taken seriously. Me and my 34,857,934 sockpuppets all played for a laughingstock fool. My posting limit has never been lifted despite sending mods 9,348,593,748,923 PMs politely requesting to have my posting limit lifted, with many assurances that I am not a troll any more. Sometimes I think me and my 34,857,934 socks should just leave since we are obviously not wanted."

    "Gee that sucks kiddo," the flower said. "But on the bright side it will free up a lot of time. I mean, you could enroll in community college and take a few writing classes. Or take up gardening. I love gardening."

    "Thanks for trying to cheer me up, Mr. Flower, but it's no use. My sole passions in life are gambling and forum trolling. So I think I'll just be spending more time at the slots. Do you know any good action in this jungle?" Sashathan asked.

    "The middle of the Sumatran jungle is not known for it's casinos kiddo. But if you follow that river downstream you'll eventually reach a settlement of primitive tribespeople. Maybe someone there can play the shell game with you." And with that, the flower closed its petals to rest for a while. All that talking had made it sleepy.

    Sashathan decided to follow the flower's advice and carefully made her way along the river's edge.

  12. #592
    "Fucking leeches" groaned Sashathan as burned yet another one off her face with a Marlboro; "Where the fuck is that village?"

    No sooner had she thought those poignant wods when she stepped into and triggered a snare which grabbed her by the foot and via a springy tree lifted her high in the air, suspended over the forest floor.

    "Help!" she shouted over and over, but to no avail.

    Her cries did attract various forest creatures: a sloth eyed her languidly then moved on; two peacocks strutted their mating dance in front of her then flew off to fuck (she recalled that "birds do it on the fly," but this tidbit helped her not at all.

    Suddenly some small people appeared from the bush, holding bows and arrows; they started twirling, dancing and blabbering to one another.

    "Get me down."

    Unconcerned for her health, they cut the tree off at its base, causing Sashathan to come crashing down, breaking her big right index finger.

    She wailed; "My finger! How can I play slots ever again?"

    Her complaint fell upon deaf ears; they quickly trussed her to a pole and carried her back to their village, singing all the while.

    Sashathan realized her peril; she farted meekly and even passed some water.

    The village headman met them and with a grand flourish directed her carriers to place her over the roaring fire in the center of the village.

    "Oh shit" thought the hapless aeronaut.

    But then she heard the word "HOLD!" spoken with authority; she looked up and saw a most unlikely sight: Judge V. exited a hut with a fifth of Bombay in hand.

    "Well now, what have we here?"

    Judge V. spoke to the natives in their tongue; they dispersed and left the two of them alone.

    "This really isn't your day, is it?"

    Nope, it wasn't.
    What, Me Worry?

  13. #593
    The half-sotted jurist handed the Bombay to Sashathan then belched, scratched his balls and asked "So, what's new?"

    Dazed and confused, the errant aeronaut asked " were in the did you get HERE?"

    "Did you ever watch 'Bewitched?' Remember how Samantha used to twitch her nose to affect reality? She learned that trick from me. You see, just as Trump can declassify documents merely by thinking about it, I can and do create and rearrange reality simply by thinking about it."

    Sashathan let loose a juicy fart: what was this nutcase talking about?

    "I am, for lack of a better name, God."

    This was too much for the injured Walgreen's clerk; she'd read the bible and this was NOT the god she'd heard about.

    "Where's the angels? What's your son up to these days?"

    "There are no 'angels," that was just some flashy bullshit I put out to get their attention, but Jesus is doing well, he's into arbitrage these days and making a mint" proclaimed the proud papa.

    "But what are you doing HERE, with me, on earth? Why aren't you sleeping in a bed of clouds, or out bowling with planets as bowling balls?"

    "Been there, done it: just trying something new. Fact is, I'm bored shitless. Why else would I haunt gambling forums?"

    Realizing that she would no longer likely be the main course for dinner, Sashathan lost her temerity and went on the attack.

    "You let me crash that plane and break my index finger Judge V: why?"

    "Purely for shits and giggles my dear. Oh, and here comes the next round of entertainment."

    She followed his gaze and started screaming and then fainted.

    "Heh heh" thought the unholy spirit, "She isn't going to like this AT ALL."
    Last edited by MisterV; Yesterday at 10:30 AM.
    What, Me Worry?

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