Chapter 6: Helpin’ And Shit I Guess
I trudge my way through the hospital, a cup of coffee in hand. It’s almost eight at night. I better feel fan-fucking-tasted after this shit. I pass by many leaving patients, nurses, and doctors. One nurse actually stopped me to say thanks for letting her husband pass. I keep walking until I find Canadian Bacon’s room. Entering it, I find Bacon looking better than last time. His wings look better, and his face looks like it wasn’t fucked up to begin with. His eye’s back to normal, and he looks like he’s able to walk. Whiskey and Maple don’t seem to be here. I guess it’s a little late after all. “Yo, Bacon, I’m back!” I greet. As I sit down, he smiles warmly.
“Howdy Anon! How’re you doing?” He asks. I smirk
“I should be asking you that, considering I haven’t visited for a few weeks.”
“Don’t worry, I understand. I figured your job would take you too long to show up sometimes. You should have seen my sister during the past couple of weeks. Ever since you last visited, she’s complained that you don’t show up,” he laughs. As I laugh with him, he sighs in contentment. “I saw Maple today, and I was so happy, I almost cried.” I can see tears barely start welling up in his eyes. He wipes them away quickly. “I asked him how school was, and he said he was actually passing with high Bs. I’m so proud,” he mentions. I nod. “I’m grounding him for a couple weeks though. The stunt he pulled was a little much. I’m just so thankful you happened to be there when you found him.” I scoff.
“Equestria is the land of coincidences. It can be good or bad. If I were to say I needed a couple bits, I’d find a couple bits somehow,” I look up in reminiscence. “Hell, once I was complaining that I couldn’t get lunch, and my buddy Spearhead just so happened to lean in and say, ‘Hey, I can’t eat this sandwich, it has ham in it. You want it?’” Canadian Bacon’s eye’s go wide.
“Really?” He asks. I nod.
“But be careful, it works both ways. You can wish that your money won’t vanish, and it will. That actually happened to me at one point,” I say. Bacon quirks an eyebrow,
“How?”
“Well, a certain pony was trying out a new spell she found. She never gave me back the fifty bits. She said that there was no way it belongs to me, the book said it would teleport unowned money,” I scoff. “I say the book’s racist since it doesn’t consider me as a person that owns stuff.” Bacon laughs. As we talk, I hear a grumbling Whiskey outside.
“He didn’t bucking show up. Why the buck didn’t he show up? I ask him for one bucking thing and he-“
“Hey Whiskey!” I call out. The grumbling stops and Whiskey’s head pops through the door, her eyes wide. “Sorry I took so long. I had to stop and get coffee.” She rushes in.
“You’re here!” She says, genuinely surprised before coughing into a claw. “I mean, that’s nice,” she tries to play it off cool. Bacon and I give her a deadpan stare as she sits beside me.
“You need to figure out how to lie better,” Bacon says. I snicker. “In any case, is Maple okay?” He asks seriously. Whiskey snaps out of her embarrassment and nods.
“The little guy’s fine, he’s just super tired. By the way,” she turns to me with a smirk. “You gave him an egg and cheese sandwich?” She asks. I shrug. “Well, he liked it. I cooked one up, and he said yours was better.” She chuckles. I smirk.
“Don’t be too jealous, that’s one of the only things I can cook,” I say. She giggles before we all continue our conversation.
We talk for a couple of hours, talking about our jobs. Bacon works at a syrup factory. I’m not fucking joking. When he said that, I was crying as I tried not to laugh. Apparently, throughout today Whiskey had a couple creatures come up and complain earlier today about the bar being closed. Though, the moment they tried, she pointed out that her nephew is with her. As we were talking, I kind of space out. Suddenly, Bacon asks something. “Hey Anon? What was one of the most memorable experiences you’ve had at the Checkpoint?” When he asked the question, I snap out of my little trance and look up in thought. Well, being tired, I can’t really think of one at the top of my head... except...
“... I guess I could say the day a bomb was dropped off at my desk.”
“What!?” Whiskey and Bacon exclaim in unison. I smirk as the memories flow in.
“I remember it like it was yesterday...”
December 7, 20XX
I felt crappy today. Today was just not a good day. Getting to work was hard. I was stopped by my boss, who reminded me that her colt friend was all cool and shit because he got her free VIPs to a Wonderbolts show. The problem is, I don’t give a fuck. Upon hearing this, Lucky docks my pay by twenty bits. As crappy as that sounds, that’s not the bad part. The bad part is when she reminded me that a suicide bomber slipped through yesterday because of my mistake. Even now, I’m tired as hell and I hope today fucking ends quickly. I hope Lucky has to rely on me one day. That way, I can tell her to fuck off and leave me alone, or I could piss her off so much, she tries to kill me. Preferably the latter. I wave to Spearhead as I step into my office. He and I have been talking recently, even playing a game of poker. Nice guy, though he’s still a little dense like the other guards. Sitting in my chair, I finally notice a note on my desk, next to some business cards I’m supposed to be handing out. Picking it up, I read it.
Dear Anonymous,
I would like to give you words of encouragement after the recent attacks on the Checkpoint. Yesterday was an honest mistake on your part, and I cannot hold any grudge against you. I know that you have been having trouble sleeping lately, as Luna has informed me. Thus, do not fret. I’m honestly surprised there haven’t been more attacks than this. In many other beginning checkpoints, attacks were normally more frequent due to inexperienced inspectors. Canterlot had ten in less than two months. Most of them were in the first month.
With regards,
Celestia
I scoff at the note before wadding it up and throwing it away. I call in the first entrant. “Next!” I cough as I realize I might have said that louder than usual, if the feedback from the megaphones are any indication.
The first creature to walk in is a grey minotaur. I smile widely as I remember this minotaur. This guy, is Iron Will. I heard he made a dent on Princess Bitch Face’s vacation once, making money off of her fame. He looks a little offput as he walks up. “Um, you look-“
“You’re the one that indirectly messed with Twilight, right?” I ask. He sighs.
“Yes.”
“Awesome! Can you sign this?” I ask, handing him a blank card. Giving me a perfect ‘What the fuck?’ face, he sighs the card and hands it back to me. “You don’t know how much I dislike her, so it’s pretty much an honor to meet you!” I say as he hands me his passport. He keeps giving me a confused look as I give his papers the green stamp. He’s apparently as smart as a lawyer, so I doubt I need to check his papers. I hand him his papers. He still doesn’t know how to react as he steps out. “Man, what a nice guy,” I say to myself. I lean towards the mic. “Next!”
The next creature is a dragon, who scowls at me as he walks up. “Papers ple-“
“Death To Equestria!” He yells. He quickly slams a bomb onto the counter and jets out of the Checkpoint. I look at the bomb with next to no amusement.
“... Well shit,” I plainly say. “I didn’t even know dragons could make bombs.” They’re normally dumb as shit, only marginally smarter than Minotaurs. I look up as Spearhead enters the room.
“Hey, what’s with all the-“ he freezes upon seeing the bomb. “Oh shit!” He curses.
“Wait, you guys can curse? I always thought you guys didn’t have-“
“There’s a Celestia damn bomb!” He yells. I roll my eyes.
“Yep.” The bomb starts beeping. “That doesn’t sound good.” I look at it closely before seeing a tile I can remove from it. I remove the tile carefully as Spearhead rants.
“W-we’re going to die! Oh Celestia! We’re going to-“ as he rants, I find that the bomb is a shit bomb. There are four wires. There are numbers on them. In order.
“We’re not going to die, hand me something sharp,” I order. As Spearhead rants, he hands me his sword. I start cutting the wires in order, carefully. I’ve heard some guards talk about this at one point. They had said that somethings were stolen at some point last week that they didn’t know about until recently. It was apparently ingredients needed to make a bomb. The bomb wouldn’t be that complicated, the most you’d have to do is number the wires you cut. It can be in any random order. The trick is figuring out which order. It could go from one to four, or four to one. With the help of luck, tiredness, honest-to-god indifference, and a little magic, I cut the first wire. It doesn’t explode. I cut the rest of the wires.
“-Oh Celestia, what’re are we gonna do!? I’m gonna-“
“Shut the fuck up. We’re living to see another day,” I bark. The bomb is now deactivated, since I cut all the wires in order. As Spearhead looks at the bomb in astonishment, I give an angry rant. “The point of a fucking bomb is that no one survives. So, why the fuck do you put down the order of wires to cut to disable it!?” I yell. Spearhead looks at the wires, and looks back to me.
“Did you just-“
“Yes, now let’s continue the day please,” I say, irritated by the inconvenience. Spearhead sputters.
“Continue the day!? But there was-“
“A minor, stupid inconvenience that was easily dealt with. Keep in mind, you could’ve left this space at any moment. No one ever locks the doors,” I say. Spearhead opens his mouth to say something, but stops and sighs.
“Well, yeah. I-I guess you’re right...”
Present
“So, a dragon just, drops a bomb on you for no reason!?” Whiskey exclaims. I shrug. “Why do you still work there!?” She asks. Bacon sighs, covering his ears.
“Please, quiet down a little?” He asks politely. Whiskey just shakes her head, trying to think of some bizarre reason I’d stay at the Checkpoint. Bacon perks up and looks at the clock. “Actually, you guys might want to get going. It’s almost eleven at night!” I look at the clock to see that it’s, indeed, almost eleven. I stand up, stretching.
“Yep. Looks like I have to go now. I hope you guys have a nice night,” I say. Whiskey nods.
“Yeah, I’ll have to leave too. I want to make sure Maple’s in bed.” With that, we leave the room while Bacon waves at us. As we walk, Whiskey looks nervous.
“... What’s on your mind?” I ask. She sighs.
“... I kind of need you to walk me home,” she mutters with a blush. I roll my eyes.
“Look, you’re a nice griffon and all, but-“ I feel a slap across the face, and I look to see a fuming Whiskey.
“Not like that you idiot!” She almost yells, blushing madly. A nurse shushes us as she walks past. Whiskey face palms. “No, I mean, the streets aren’t exactly friendly for griffons at this time of night,” she mutters. I feel my cheek with my hand to see if there’s any blood. Looking at my hand, there are no traces of blood. It just fucking hurts like a bitch, but I take it because I’m too tired to give a fuck.
“Alright, I will. Sorry about the comment,” I apologize. I do actually feel bad, but that’s because of the slap more than anything else. Whiskey sighs, seeming relieved.
“Thanks. I owe you a drink if you ever get to my bar,” she says.
“You might owe me more in a couple days,” I say under my breathe, remembering Luna and I’s drinking day.
“What was that?” Whiskey asks. I smirk as I start walking.
“You’ll see,” I say cryptically. Whiskey shakes her head, following my path.
We walk the dark streets of Manehatten, street lamps illuminating parts of the streets. Whoever placed these lamps is a fucking idiot, because there are many dark areas that people/ponies could hide in it and we’d never know. Whiskey sticks close to my side, eyeing the shadows carefully. We walk in relative silence, the sounds of our footsteps being the only source of noise around us. Whiskey’s feathers are a little ruffled, signaling how nervous she actually is. I admit, it’s a little adorable. Deciding to try and ease her nerves, I start a conversation. “Welp, tonight looks pretty good,” I say. Whiskey looks up at me in confusion.
“What?” She asks. I shrug.
“Just saying the night looks pretty good. There are stars and shit I guess,” I say. Whiskey snickers.
“That’s one way of describing the sky,” she comments. I nod.
“Yeah, on my world, the sky was beautiful as this, though no one made it that way. It just happened on its own,” I say. Whiskey does a double take.
“Wait, ‘on your world?’ What do you mean on your world?” She asks. I smirk.
“Well, I wasn’t exactly from Equestria. I used to be on a planet called Earth. As sci-If as it sounds, it’s true. We had many more technological advances than this planet did. We made cars, planes, robots, and much more,” I say. Whiskey looks up at me in curiosity.
“What are cars and planes?”
“Cars are automated metal trains that move with the push of a button, and they go anywhere you want. Planes are like huge hollow metal birds with rockets that help it fly.”
“Planes don’t sound complicated.”
“That wasn’t, but aerodynamics was. That was still an issue, though we’ve mostly figured it out.”
“... What was your species like?”
“Well, we’re mostly like this world’s creatures, though we’re mostly chaotic and diverse when it comes to personalities. Some of us were optimistic, and some of us were pessimistic. We didn’t have assigned jobs, we had to find what we’re best at, but that could be anything. We could technically literally do anything we put our minds to. Though, we are also pretty stupid.”
“How could your species be stupid?” Whiskey asks. I roll my eyes.
“The younger generations started to eat and drink bleach at one point for a challenge.”
“... Huh.... What kind of job did you have on your world?” Whiskey asks curiously. I shrug.
“I was a cashier at a retail store. I had a more immature attitude at that point than I do now. Everyone put up with it because they thought it was comical.”
“Really?” Whiskey asks in a disbelieving tone.
“Yep. One day, I was teleported to this absolute clusterfuck of a world.”
“Is that how you really want to describe this world?” Whiskey asks with a smirk.
“Where I was from, humans were the only sapient creatures. Almost every creature here is a myth where I’m from. We also couldn’t control the weather, natural disasters, the sun or moon, and the most we could do is prepare for the worst.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, it was pretty jarring when I saw a unicorn. You know, when I was summoned, I cussed out every single creature that had a part in it,” I say. Whiskey stops.
“Wait, why were you teleported in the first place?”
“Well, someone was doing a random spell. It basically picked a random being from the multiverse or some shit.” As we walk, a unicorn suddenly jumps out in front of us, covered head to toe in some sort of black clothing. I can’t see a tuff of fur anywhere. Whiskey yelps from the sudden bandit, who’s floating something up at us.
“Hold up! Give me your money-“
“Is that a fucking chip bag?” I ask, cutting him off. Whiskey turns to glare at me.
“What’re you doing!?” She whisper-shouts. I shrug as I take a good look at the floating object. The bandit is holding a rolled up chip bag. It looks like it might contain a knife, but I’ll just try my luck. Equestrians really aren’t that violent of creatures after all.
“What? N-no! I-“
“Dude, why the fuck would you cover a knife with a chip bag?” I ask. He stammers.
”Sh-shut up! This is a mother bucking knife! And I-“
“Don’t know how to do shit with it apparently,” I comment. He growls.
“Can you shut the buck up!?”
“Yeah Anon, he has us at knife point!” Whiskey yells. I give her a bemused look.
“You have eight knives at your disposal at all times. Why are you threatened?” I ask. She freezes and looks at her claws. She looks at the bandit slowly, extremely pissed. The bandit backs up.
“U-um, uh, I-“
“I’d advise you to run,” I wisely say.
After chasing the unicorn, we catch him and pin him down. Whiskey pinned him onto his stomach, laying on top of him. “Don’t hurt me! Please! I won’t be a bad pony anymore!” He yells in fear. I walk around and lean down to his face.
“Alright buddy, we’re gonna make this clear. Don’t fuck with us, or we’ll rip your nuts off,” I say. He nods shakily. Whiskey steps off of him and he scampers off. We watch as he runs off into the distance. “... Welp, it’s a good thing you were heavy enough to pin him,” I comment. A well-earned slap is Whiskey’s reply.
We finally arrive at her apartment building. I smile as she sighs in relief at the sight of the building. She turns to me, smiling. “Thanks for walking with me Anon,” she says. I shrug.
“No biggie. Tell Maple I said hi,” I request, turning to leave.
“Alright, thanks again, bye!” Whiskey says before leaving to enter the building. I turn around and start heading home.
I walk home, alone, and in the dark. As I walk, I hear a sound I did not want to hear. “Consarn bags!” A familiar southern voice yells.
“Darling, the bags should not be that much trouble,” another voice says in British.
“Oh hell,” I say out loud, knowing the two unseen ponies behind me.
“Anon? Is that you?” I slowly turn around to see Rarity and Applejack trotting up. Applejack has a shitload of bags on her back. Rarity, as usual, doesn’t carry shit.
“Hey AJ,” I greet. Rarity, the white bitch, waits patiently for her greeting with a smile. “... Hi Rarely Pretty.” Rarity’s face switches to bemusement quickly.
“Now Anon, I know some of my friends didn’t treat ya right-“
“You guys ran me out of town with pitch forks and torches. Forgive me if I’m a little reluctant to talk,” I reply. “Granted, Applejack, you’re cool. It’s the three others that need to apologize.”
“Wait, who?” Applejack asks.
“Rarity, Pinkie, and Twilight.”
“Wait, Darling, why does Pinkie need to apologize?” Rarity asks.
“She blew a canon in my fucking face,” I deadpan.
“There is no need for vulgar-“ I cut Rarity off with my own words of wisdom.
“Fuck you.” Absolute fucking genius. Applejack stands between us, seeing how heated we’re getting.
“Alright now, just take a breather, and let’s try this again,” she says. I roll my eyes. “Now, Anon, I know Rarity and you aren’t on good terms, but I have to ask for a favor.” I quirk an eyebrow. What could they possibly want from me. “We need somewhere to stay.” I simply stare at her.
“Wait, Applejack, darling, what are you doing? This ruffian-“
“Alright,” I say simply. Rarity stops to look at me in shock.
“Thank ya, can ya help me with the bags?” Applejack asks. I laugh.
“Hell no,” I cheerfully reply. I spin on my heels and continue walking to my house. Applejack couldn’t help but laugh at the response, thought she’s secretly planning to kick a couple doors down.
Upon arriving at my house, Rarity looks around the living room. “... It’s rather... plain,” she points out. I shrug in response. A loud crash is heard outside. Looking out, I see Applejack under a pile of bags. I sigh. Reluctantly, I help her out and tote the bags in. Rarity continues to look around my house. She enters my room and sighs. “Could you try to be a little interesting in your decor?” She asks. I groan.
“Not all of us have the time to do that you know,” I say. She rolls her eyes.
“What could keep you from giving your house a little personality?”
“A twelve hour job from six in the morning to six at night,” I say. Applejack scoffs, sitting on my couch.
“That there is a nice laid back job compared to mine. All you do is stamp papers-“
“And handle attacks when they happen,” I interrupt. While Rarity’s face switches to horror, AJ nods.
“Oh, right. Sorry.”
“Attacks!? You get attacked!? By who?” Rarity asks.
“I dunno. Terrorists, idiots, a cultist, etcetera,” I say. She shakes her head.
“What kind of job do you have?” She asks.
“Passport inspector,” I reply. Silence follows as Rarity looks at me with confusion.
“... That’s it?” She asks. I nod. She falls silent as she watches me head to my room.
“Alright, keep in mind, the bathroom’s down the hall, the kitchen has some muffins and apples, and the couch is foldable. Goodnight assholes,” I call.
I dress for sleep, meaning I got some boxers and a white shirt on. I lie down on my bed, ready for some peaceful sleeping. “Consarn it Rarity! Give me my pillow!” I frown deeply.
“Darling, give me the blanket!” I slowly sit up.
“I swear to God, if you two don’t work something out in the next five minutes, I’ll come down and kick both of your asses until you learn to cope!” I yell.
“Well that’s rude,” I hear Rarity say.
“So is disturbing someone who hasn’t slept for two days,” I call, laying back down. Maybe, I can fucking sleep. I hear a pop. Shit. I try to scramble to get out of the way, but my pay, in the form of a bag of solid gold coins, falls right between my legs. Again. “FUUUUUCK!!!” I scream in absolute fucking pain and agony. Why the fuck does this have to happen to me!? I roll off my bed, slamming into the floor. The pain of gravity doesn’t register, as the pain of my balls takes precedence. The bedroom door is kicked off its hinges, a worried Applejack rushing in with Rarity in tow.
“What happened sugarcube? Do I need to kick some sense into someone?” She asks.
“My scrotums,” I strain. Rarity looks around before rolling her eyes.
“Darling, what could possibly have hurt you in such a way?” She asks.
“Feckin’ gold,” I rasp. Rarity spots the bag of bits on the bed.
“What is that?” She asks. I finally feel the pain start to subside.
“My pay for today,” I say. Rarity tries picking it up with her magic, but starts straining as she lifts it. After trying to float it to her, she let’s go of it and gasps for air.
“Darling! That is much too heavy to be a simple day’s pay!” She exclaims. I glare at her from the floor. In my exhausted, frustrated, and aggravated state, I’m tired of everyone talking shit about my job.
“Simple?” I ask. With the pain almost gone, I get up and stare her down. “Simple?” I ask again.
“Well, all you do is-“ I cut off her bullshit protest.
“I make sure families reunite. I make sure the right diplomats cross the border to make future decisions for the benefit of Equestria. I make sure no one imports drugs that could hurt people. I might be killed during this process, as some people would try to destroy the border. I make sure the bad people stay outside of the country.” I tower over Rarity. She’s looking at me, realization hitting her. “I’m one of the only ones competent enough to do my job right. So no, this is not a simple job. This job is hard, tedious, and it makes you think about your past decisions, making you wonder if you should feel regret or pain about the simple fact that you give a red or green stamp.” Applejack puts a hoof on my back.
“Settle down, you made your point,” she says. I sigh. I back off and sit on my bed, putting my face into my hands.
“... Look, I’m tired. Please, just go to sleep,” I request.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t-“
“I don’t care. Just go to bed.”
“... Thank you for your generosity,” Rarity says, a hint of shame in her voice. I look up once they exit. I’m all alone in my room with my thoughts. Fantastic. I sigh again and lie down. I need some sleep...
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"Get it guys?! He's anonymoose! He's le funny edgy! Le xD gimme le upvotes guis XDD
alright anon needs to bag up his days pay and take it to there fucking balls and tell them to fucking aim somewhere else
SAPIENT
9224229
Thank you. I could remember what word to use.
Poor anon XD
I am surprised his balls haven't ruptured or at the very least stopped working properly from all those heavy ass bags of gold landing on them.
9224408
He has balls of steel.
Totally.
9224477 He must have balls of steel cause that job has tried to kill him a few times and the amount of blood vessels he probably broke from all the stupid people has to deal with on a regular basis. I am honestly surprised he hasn't requested from Celestia a once a year free murder.
9224408
They probably have stopped working properly. Doubt he has been tested for sterility.
9224408
He's got a titanium pair for dealing with the daily border bs. Heavy bags of gold are just painful at this point.
I think Whiskey has a crush on him.
I FUCKING LOVE THIS SHIT, IT AWESOME!!
9224555 and I agree completely with you.
Every time I read a chapter, it puts a smile on my face.
-Ru
If there was a way to rate this 10 out of 10 I'd give it a f*-cking 11.
This is just perfect. Keep up the good work
I would be surprised if Anon can have kids from all the money piling up between his legs every night.
Only at the Manehattan Border Checkpoint. The only border inspector that tells you to fuck off.
"auicide".
"to me you!"
9235847
Yep. I fixed them. I try to reread my chapters to catch any mistakes I’ve made before AND after I publish the story. Thank you for pointing out the mistakes though. Though, I request that you put the censor bar over the quotes if you’re going to use big paragraphs. I don’t mind if you quote the paragraph, but I only ask that for future reference, you censor big paragraphs like that.
That meant to be "fan-fucking-tastic"?
*cough*she has a crush*cough*
9235921
Bullshit, u send me to reread it to try and spot it yellow...vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/cyanide-and-happiness-show/images/3/39/Screen_Shot_2015-01-17_at_10.10.38_PM.png/revision/latest?cb=20150118032224
9244436
it's funnier that way
9266507
Funnily enough, I first thought ‘oh shit, I didn’t check the auto correct!’ Then, I just stopped for a second. Would I really think straight when I’m tired?
No. No I wouldn’t.
Winning ponies over with his kind side and yaks over with extra assholery. Nice!
9251766
Women are usually most attracted to men who demonstrate they are good with kids.
9224229
Both and of sufficient intelligence. Sentience and sapience are about complex emotions and judgement making. There are sentient and sapient wild animals, but they aren’t nearly as intelligent as humans. Sentience and sapience are not related to the intelligence to build space stations or whatever, unlike what science-fiction wants you to believe.
I'd beat the everloving shite out of my boss for intentionally teleporting heavy weights on top of me in the first place. I'd go medieval on him for the scrotum bit.
Anon's payment transfer reminded me of this:
Also, I'm loving this story.
9321533
Knowing her personality and how they butt heads, I see a strong possibility that she might be doing it on purpose...
DEATH TO ARSTOTZKA!
Ya we're pretty Fucking stupid.
9539053
We fight each other on live television with lethal and debilitating repercussions, we ingest copious amounts of toxin for a good time, there was also the War of the Bucket, we settle down in extreme areas ranging from scorching deserts that melt rubber to freezing wastes that give you frostbite in five minutes without proper gear because we're either curious or too lazy to go further. Honestly, the survival of the human race is nothing short of miraculous.
9679474
I guess it's offset by the fact that, unlike ponies, we don't have to wait a year to breed. But don't you worry none - the inbred idiots are outbreeding the jackass "intelligents", so soon enough we're going to be having front-row seats to "Idiocracy", live! I mean, there's Trump, there's Boris... ;-) We're going down, the lot of us, but at least we invented popcorn and soda to wash the end of the world down with!
9431574
He should wear a cup.
9982171
Or he could just move the bed?
10024781
I suspect it still be transported over his crotch. No matter what.
10027044
Then he should wear a shield or something, have a thick wooden board to shield his dick from it. Or hell, just lay sideways or something.
9758779
Kad, you might be right, but you're bumming me the fuck out, also, i didn't know you read this too.
9466187
FOR KOLECHIA!
10444140
They’ll just drop it higher. Gold is heavy!
God I love this series. The fact it started from a one-off you did is even better. Thank you for this wonderful work. I look forward to reading it all!
i LOVE THIS FIC SO MUCH ITS HILARIOUS I LOVE IT PLEASE MAKE MORE I CANT LIVE WITH ANON ADVENTURES.....
I wonder why anon hasn't used his brain and thought to wear a groin/ crotch cup?
11276402
probably forgets to