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The Captain of the Venereal Guard looked at me, his face stony. “How could you? How could you insult our illustrious Queen like that?”I ignored him, looking down at my bound hands, ashamed, because there was nothing I could say in my defense.I was kidding? I didn’t mean it? I’m…sorry?Well, that last was certainly true. I had meant my comment to be a witticism, vying with the other courtiers to compliment the Queen. But no sooner it escaped my mouth on impulse than I knew I had fucked up badly – very badly.“Your Majesty’s quim is the most beautiful and of the most heavenly fragrance!” I had called, the laugh dying on my lips as I saw her face go from glowing at the compliments thrown her, to kocaeli escort cold fear. Clearly, the supper, the wine, and the company had gone to my head, and I would now pay for it. How could I possibly know the appearance and aroma of the Queen’s quim unless I had examined and inhaled it from close proximity.Which I had.But if the Queen was unhappy with me, the King was…well, let’s just say that adjectives failed both him and the author.He stood up from his place at table, quivering with rage, giving venomous looks first at me, and then at the Queen, who gazed fixedly at her feet.“I will deal with you later,” the King said to her, then turned to me, and my guts turned to glue. “And as for kocaeli escort bayan you – take him to the Fuckholes of the Worm Monsters!”A gasp rose up from the dinner guests, but not from me. I had ceased breathing. A woman cried – and fainted. A man followed her. Suddenly, there was a hubbub in the crowd, but the King wasn’t having it.“Enough! Guards – seize him!”Which was how I wound up, battered and bruised, in the troop transport surrounded by the King’s Own Guards on my way……to the Fuckholes of the Worm Monsters of Venus. (Dramatic music plays here.)Shortly thereafter, I was bound to a slender steel pole, arms fixed at my sides, on the Great Offal Plain. I was the only thing taller izmit escort than about six inches, and thus highly visible.The Captain looked at me, a nasty smirk on his vicious face, leaned forward and gave my cheek a hard tweak, then stood back. “Give my love to Gonorrhea!”Nodding, he held out his hand. One of his men handed him the Fuckhorn Leghorn. He held it to his mouth, balancing the bell on his toe, inhaled deeply, grimaced, then blew a long, fruity, ethereal fart.The troop stood, anxiously silent – then we all heard a deep, ground-shaking thump. The guards scrambled into the transport, which sped away towards the palace.I was about to see something few humans had ever seen, and none ever found adequate adjectives to describe: Gonorrhea, the Queen of the Worm Monsters of Venus. (More dramatic music.)I spied her at a distance, her enormous snakey body rolling up and down like a gigantic, breakdancing inchworm.
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