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Posts tagged “British

Interview with the King of the Leprechauns

Today for our holiday interview we are lucky to have with us Fergus O’Malley, King of the Leprechauns.

You seem angry, Fergus. Can you tell us why?

Because of today, that’s why. We Leprechauns spend every Saint Paddy’s Day in hiding.

But I would have thought you’d be happy on Saint Patrick’s Day. Isn’t it an Irish holiday?

Saint Patrick can kiss my arse. His holiday has nuttin’ to do with Leprechauns or the Irish. It has to do with him bein’ chuffed and converting pagans to Christians. Patty boy can take his church and stuff it. (more…)


Fluffy’s Fateful Faux Pas

fluffy-harry-potter-3-three-headed-dog-historys-famous-dog-ark-animal-centre

fluffy-harry-potter-3-three-headed-dog-historys-famous-dog-ark-animal-centreWelcome to day four of BLOGSHORTS: a ten day, ten story, 110 word writing extravaganza.

Each participating blogger chooses a pooch a day from a list of dogs, thunk-up by our fearless leader BLOGDRAMEDY, and then writes a short story featuring their dog of choice.

Each story is 110 words in length and can feature as much or as little of our canine friend as we like.

Today we travel beyond the land of Muggles to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to meet with our favorite three-headed dog, FLUFFY!

FLUFFY’S FATEFUL FAUX PAS

Fluffy tucked El Guapo’s speakers into his ears and for one blessed moment let the smooth, mellow sounds of Coltrane drown out the incessant bickering between his two ex-wives.

Fluffy often used his stolen quiet time to reflect on the course his life had taken. He dissected every decision and evaluated every consequence. He ran scenarios over and over again in his mind, asking himself what he might have done differently to have avoided the fate that had so tragically befallen him.

But no matter how many times he replayed that fateful day, Fluffy always came to the one sad, inevitable conclusion:

He should have never called He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, “Lord Moldywart.”

Revisit these soon to be canine classics:

BLOGSHORTS DAY ONE: Tea Cup Cujo

BLOGSHORTS DAY TWO: Toto’s Ruby Red Booty

BLOGSHORTS DAY THREE: Lassie Learns the Truth

TAKE YOUR BLOG FOR A WALK AND THROW THESE GUYS A BONE:

Blogdramedy

1pointperspective

SteveBetz 

Joe’s Musings

Jtailele’s Blog

MC’s Whispers

Shouts from the Abyss

Lenore Diane

Fix it or Deal

RETURN TOMORROW FOR A VISIT FROM EVERYONE’S FAVORITE PROPER POOCH, EDDIE!


Lassie Learns the Truth

thWelcome to day three of BLOGSHORTS: a ten day, ten story, 110 word writing extravaganza.

Each participating blogger chooses a pooch a day from a list of dogs, thunk-up by our fearless leader BLOGDRAMEDY, and then writes a short story featuring their dog of choice.

Each story is 110 words in length and can feature as much or as little of our canine friend as we like.

I will admit that I didn’t know who this dog was when I signed on to blog, so I was forced to look him (her) up first. Truth be told, I still don’t know what this show was all about. From what I can gather, there were a lot of children getting stuck places or falling into wells who needed rescuing. That fact prompted me to ask…just how fat are the children in this town, anyway??

Obese toddlers or not, I bring you:

LASSIE LEARNS THE TRUTH

“What are they calling me??” Lassie barked to Megan, a cute pug digging a hole alongside him.

“Lassie is a girl’s name,” Megan yapped back. “The producers want Timmy’s dog to be female. They want the audience to think she’s maternal.”

“A female?” Lassie growled, incredulous. “I’m no female and I can prove it. Look here.” Lassie curled his snout behind him to sniff at a couple of things he was sure were there.

But they weren’t. Not anymore.

Lassie collapsed into a heap on the ground. Megan nudged him with her snout and yapped, “It could be worse. You could be filming a peanut butter commercial with Ron Jeremy.”

Revisit these soon to be canine classics:

BLOGSHORTS DAY ONE: Tea Cup Cujo

BLOGSHORTS DAY TWO: Toto’s Ruby Red Booty

TAKE YOUR BLOG FOR A WALK AND THROW THESE GUYS A BONE:

Blogdramedy

1pointperspective

SteveBetz 

Joe’s Musings

Jtailele’s Blog

MC’s Whispers

Shouts from the Abyss

Lenore Diane

Fix it or Deal

RETURN TOMORROW AND JOIN US ON A TRIP TO HOGWARTS!


Close Encounter – Neil Gaiman

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2013-07-15 20.38.53I’ll admit that it’s been a while since I’ve visited blogworld, but this time I have a good reason:

I met Neil Gaiman.

That’s right; I met honest to goodness Neil Gaiman at a book signing for his latest creation:

THE OCEAN AT THE END OF THE LANE

I, along with about 100 other lucky individuals, sat enraptured for two hours listening to him speak about his new book and his old books and what it means to be a writer. I gladly waited another three hours in line just to have him sign my copy of American Gods- three hours I spent rehearsing what it was I would say to him when I finally, after twenty years of fandom so intense it is almost embarrassing, had the chance. Here’s how it went:

NEIL: [reading the post-it with my name on it stuck to my book] “So you are H.E. Ellis, then?”

ME: “Yes.”

[Neil begins to sign book. Silence ensues]

NEIL: “It is wonderful to see people using initials again.”

ME: “Yes.”

[Neil hands me my book]

NEIL: “There you are.”

ME: “Thank you.”

[I turn and walk away]

I am sure there was drool involved, not to mention I’d been sweating inside a church for five hours and probably smelled like Texas roadkill.

Even if he were offended, I am sure he would never say. Neil Gaiman is without a doubt the most soft-spoken and humble celebrity I have ever encountered. This man makes himself available to those who come out to see him (those who don’t become catatonic at the sight of him anyway) and never behaves like the diva he has earned the right to be. I harbor no delusions that my writing will ever receive the acclaim his has, but I will tell you with certainty that I will do my best to, “Make good art,” simply because I was blessed with the opportunity to receive his advice.

Return tomorrow for a blog post about what I did the NEXT day. Until then, MAKE GOOD ART.


Happy Birthday Tim Curry!!!

TODAY IS THE BIRTHDAY OF MY MOST FAVORITE ACTOR OF ALL TIME….TIM CURRY!!!!

I remember the first time I saw Tim Curry on the big screen. It was in a now defunct movie theater in Windsor, Connecticut with my best friend (yes, Quinn I’m talking about you) who dragged me kicking and screaming to see the movie ANNIE. I remember everyone HATING the character of Rooster but I was absolutely smitten. I loved his voice, the way he moved, his eyes, EVERYTHING about him.

It was just a few years later that I was dragged to another movie theater (yes, Quinn this was you again) in nothing but my bra and panties to see Tim Curry in the ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW. Let me digress for a moment here…
Have you ever had an experience as a kid that forever changed your life? That molded and shaped how you saw the world and yourself in it for years to come? Yes, that was what Tim Curry’s FRANK-N-FURTER character did for me. Since then I’ve made a point to either see or hear everything he’s ever done in his career (even Pennywise the clown. That’s how deep my love goes).

Now, I’m not one to go all gushy when meeting celebrities (my life spent as a somewhat groupie kept my Starstruck meter in check) but if I were to meet Tim Curry in the flesh I’d fucking cum in colors, I shit you not (suck on that sentence, Freshly Pressed). So here’s to you, Tim Curry, for another glorious year with you in it!


Happy Normal Birthday!

Cocktails-2It’s time once again to celebrate our favorite Brit’s birthday, Megan from VeryNormal!

I’ll admit to having a heck of a time trying to figure out how to top last year’s send off, but this year I think I’ve got it covered. When I imagined what I’d likely be doing if I were in England right now,  the answer became instantly clear. Why I’d be drinking, of course. So this year I’ve decided to create a drink specifically for our Megan, and name it accordingly. Ladies and Gentlemen I give you:

The Induced American

Named because you will likely be driving on the wrong side of the road after you knock one of these babies back. Here’s the recipe:

Ingredients (sorry they aren’t metric)

1 very thin sliver habanero pepper (because she is so spicy!)

2 slices fresh ginger root (because I like her with red hair best)

1 1/2 fluid ounces gin (because gin is British)

3/4 fluid ounce lime juice (because…well, because I like lime juice)

1/2 fluid ounce simple syrup (because she is so sweet!)

1 cup ice cubes (just because)

Directions

Muddle habanero pepper slice and 2 slices fresh ginger together in a cocktail shaker until pulverized, about 20 seconds. Add gin, lime juice, simple syrup, and ice. Cover and shake until well chilled. Strain with a fine mesh strainer into a cocktail glass. Garnish with a thin slice of ginger on a toothpick. Drink a toast to Megan and the Queen!

Happy Birthday, Megan! Have a drink for me!

TO WISH MEGAN A HAPPY BIRTHDAY VISIT:

VeryNormal

FOR THE FULL COCKTAIL LIST VISIT:

Archon’s Den

El Guapo

HR Nightmare

Sandylikeabeach


Inaugural SPaM

In honor of Presidents’ Day I took a trip to the Black Hills of South Dakota for an interview with Mount Rushmore Presidents Washington, Jefferson, Roosevelt and Lincoln for a feature I’m calling “Inaugural SPaM.” While I hoped to get a glimpse into four of the greatest minds of history, what I actually got was…well, I’ll let you read for yourself.

H.E.: WHAT DO YOU THINK IS THE MOST SIGNIFICANT CHANGE IN POLITICS SINCE THE FOUNDATION OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA?

WASHINGTON: “Well I’d have to say that the principles of–“

JEFFERSON: “Why do you always have to answer first? Maybe one of us wants to say something insightful for a change.”

LINCOLN: “Now, now Thomas. George was merely stating–“

JEFFERSON: “Stuff it, Beardy. No one cares what you think.”

ROOSEVELT: “Whoa, hold your horses there, Jeffy.”

JEFFERSON: “I told you not to call me Jeffy!”

ROOSEVELT: “Alright, alright now just settle down. Go on and let Washington here answer and then you can speak your mind, Jeff-uh…son.”

WASHINGTON: “No, no. I’d like to hear what he has to say. Please Thomas, continue. Enlighten us with your timely opinion.”

JEFFERSON: “Oh you’d like that, wouldn’t you? I bet you’d just loooove for me to say something so you can take all the credit. You thought I didn’t hear what you said to Franklin in the library, did you? Need someone to draft the Declaration of Independence? Sure, give it to Jefferson. He’ll write anything. I’ve yet to see a royalty check on that by the way.”

WASHINGTON: “We’ve been over this. We thought you understood that it was for the greater good.”

JEFFERSON: “The greater good of what?”

LINCOLN: “The good of the country, Thomas.”

JEFFERSON: “Easy for you to say. You and Baldy here get your birthdays’ remembered. What do Teddy and I get? Bupkiss, that’s what.”

WASHINGTON: “Not THAT again.”

ROOSEVELT: “Now, now; he’s got a point, George.”

JEFFERSON: “Damn straight I’ve got a point. Look at that crowd of people down there. They’re here because it’s Presidents’ Day. PRES-I-DENTS’ DAY. MY birthday is in April. Where’s the greater good in that?”

LINCOLN: “When to celebrate Presidents’ Day was not a decision made by George or I. We can hardly be held accountable for-“

JEFFERSON: “Figures you’d side with Washington. I think you secretly love him.”

WASHINGTON: “Now you’re being ridiculous.”

JEFFERSON: “Oh yeah? Then why does he stare at you all the time?”

LINCOLN: “I don’t know what you’re taking about.”

WASHINGTON: “I think you’ve gone off topic, here.”

JEFFERSON: Here’s a topic for you, George old boy. Of the four of us which one participated in the framing of the Constitution? Huh? What’s that? Oh right, it was ME. I find it highly ironic that I helped draft laws affording freedoms to include celebrating holidays and yet no one recognizes my birthday.”

WASHINGTON: “What the hell’s your problem, Jefferson? You don’t hear Roosevelt complaining.”

ROOSEVELT: “Well now, like I said before, ole Jeff here’s got a point. I’d like to see all our days honored, quite frankly. I know I wouldn’t mind seeing a few female citizens admiring us from below in tank tops come April. Am I right, Abe?”

JEFFERSON: “What are you asking HIM for?”

LINCOLN: “What’s THAT supposed to mean?”

JEFFERSON: “Oh I think you know what that means.”

LINCOLN: “I’ll have you know that I was married for–“

JEFFERSON: “Doesn’t matter. I’ve seen your wife.”

LINCOLN: “AND?”

JEFFERSON: “And can you say HAG?”

H.E.: ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! THAT’S ENOUGH! I’LL SKIP TO MY LAST QUESTION WHICH IS THIS: WHAT DO EACH OF YOU THINK OF THE IDEA OF PRESIDENT OBAMA BEING ADDED TO YOUR SCULPTURE?

IN UNISON: “No comment.”


Welcome To My Desktop

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Anyone who knows me knows that I am an extremely restless individual, and that every now and then I’ve got to switch things up. It could be something as easy as driving a different car for a while, or something as epic as painting my bedroom hot pink.

Since I’ve taken on more hours at work, the switching up has been happening at my desk, or more specifically, my desktop, to the amusement of my many co-workers. So for the amusement of you all, I share with you today a gallery of my ever-changing desktop wallpaper.

Ah…yes. The General Lee. My first love.

Mmm…The Metallicar. My present love.

Next we have two pics that are the perfect marriage of humor and music, Tenacious D. and Dethklok. If you don’t know who they are, I suggest hitting the Google immediately. If you don’t like them, well…we can’t be friends.

Now we have the two greatest bands I’ve ever had the good fortune of hanging out with backstage. Lit and Godsmack. Boys and their tattoos. Dreamy.

Why Lemmy? Because Lemmy is God, that’s why.

Next we have two of the greatest influences of my life: Roller Derby and Charles Bukowski. Bukowski touched me deeply on the inside, and Roller Derby smacked the crap out of me on the outside.

Because I can’t download porn.

Next are two pics of my seldom seen daughter, Babygirl. The one above was taken on Halloween when she was two years-old. Her father wanted her to be a princess, but she wanted to be a “basketball boy.” You see who won. (Yes, that is a regulation sized basketball. She was, and still is, very tiny). The one below was taken in our backyard with my nephew. I plan on writing a story just so I can use that pic as a book cover.

Last but not least, for reasons that I cannot begin to comprehend, my all time favorite desktop wallpaper pic ever!!!!!

Doesn’t this pic just say it all?


Fifty Shades of White??

snowhite

People, I am disillusioned. No, I am more than that- I am traumatized. Because my innocent little British Sweetie Pie just wrote the raunchiest retelling of Snow White and the Seven Dwarves that I’ve ever read. Hang on to your caps chaps, because I bring you Snow White and the Seven Strippers??

by Megan Stephenson

“I am leaving tonight!” thought Snow as she packed her bags cautiously. All her step mother cared about was her father’s money and she got it when he passed away. Snow knew the woman was jealous but banning her from going to university, this was a whole new low! Any boy Snow brought home her step mother convinced her they didn’t like her and Snow had never had a proper relationship. Leaving was the only way she could live her life how she wanted.

As Snow stormed past the beautiful ruby Red Mercedes Mclaren SLR her father had bought her for her seventeenth birthday, she backtracked for a moment. It was hard to leave when you had everything but she couldn’t stay for luxuries. Snow tapped the car and forced herself to leave. Marching down the street Snow bumped into a street advertiser who offered her a leaflet. It read ‘New VIP Bar Opening Tonight, All Drinks £1” she thought for a moment. Her step-mother had never let her go clubbing. Snow was going to do it; she was going to get smashed!!

Snow walked up to the new bar and walked through the doors; she stormed straight to the bar and asked the bartender for a double vodka and cola because that is what her step-mother ordered when she wanted to get drunk. She took the drink and gulped it down in one. She smiled; she had never felt this free before.

A friend from University was sitting across the bar, Snow couldn’t remember her name but she ordered another drink, downed it and walked over to her friend “WANT TO DANCE,” she shouted but the girl couldn’t hear her, then Snow remembered her name was Zoe, Snow walked closer to her and said “Zoe, do you wanna dance?” Zoe smiled and said “Yes actually, I have been stood up and could do with a friend,” Snow led her to the dance floor and they started dancing. They were shortly joined by a very good looking man who passed them a leaflet “I would love you girls to join us later,” he said before winking and walked over to another crowd of girls. The man had jet black hair and beautiful blue eyes; he had stubble on his face and walked around the club with a cheeky smile. The leaflet said “TIME OF YOUR LIFE, a club with a difference,” Zoe looked at Snow and pointed at the opening times “It doesn’t open till eleven,” Snow looked at her diamond incrusted watch and it was only nine but she was determined to have a good time “Let’s get plenty to drink before then,” she said pulling Zoe back towards the bar. At 11:30, Snow and Zoe stumbled to ‘time of your life’. Snow looked at the man at the booth at the door and said “How much do you want?” the man laughed and said “The shows has already started but if you still wanna go in its £15 each,” Snow passed the man £100 and said “Keep the change,” Zoe giggle as they walked into the club barely holding each other up. They were both shocked when they walked into a revamped theatre; they took a seat at the back near the bar and waited for the next part of the show to start.

A tall, gorgeous lady walked onto the stage and said “I hope you ladies enjoyed the first act but now onto the second, you all know this guy, give it up for Friendly!!” The women around them screamed in anticipation. A woman next to Snow had a huge stack of five pound notes on the table in front of her so Snow presumed she knew what was going on. Suddenly a beautiful man’s voice sang “You know I know how, to make them stop and share as I zone out,” he slowly danced onto the stage in a suit and took his jacket off “The club can’t even handle me right now,” as he stopped singing the women went wild. Snow had never seen anything like this but she was captured by what she was seeing.

“Watch you, watching me I go all out,” he sang as he sat on the edge of the stage and the women closest to him stroked his muscly chest and abs. “The club can’t even handle me right now,” he finished singing and the music started. He started dancing but really dancing, he was amazing. His shagging blond hair was dancing with him and his muscle rippled as he delivered every move with passion and precision. He slid across the stage and jumped onto a girls lap, he was dancing on her and she was gridding on him. He jumped onto the table and ripped his pants off. Snows jaw dropped as he used his hat to cover his dignity. As he left the stage the women came back on and said “Did everyone enjoy that?” Snow was too shocked too scream and she needed another drink. As she sat back in her seat, the most beautiful man she had ever seen stepped onto the stage in a camouflage trousers and a white vest top. The white vest top didn’t leave much to the imagination as all of his muscles protruded through the material. He man danced down the ales of the theatre, pulling girls to their feet and dancing with them. Snow bit her lip as he dance towards her, he was her perfection. He had dark hair and dark eyes. As he danced back towards the stage, women sighed and pleaded for him to dance with them.

Seven acts and nine shot later, Snow was on cloud nine. As the club emptied Snow found a nice comfortable bit of concrete and fell asleep.

“We should really wake her up,” said Flirty as he stared at the beautiful girl asleep on the road. Frisky nodded at him and kicked her. Flirty shot him an angry look but Frisky simply shrugged back. The girl looked around and realised she was asleep on the road outside a strip club. Her hair was stuck up in the air and her clothes were on backwards (Meaning at some point last night she must have taken them off). Flirty looked her up and down, he didn’t know what to say. “Are you alright?” Frisky said as the girl squinted at them both. She looked at him but the only thing she could remember from the night before was running away from home. She was confused but asked “Do you have a place for me to stay?” Flirty and Frisky were taken back, Frisky shook his head “Erm no, no girls allowed,” but Flirty had a different idea. “How long do you want to stay?” Flirty said before Frisky could stop him. The girl fluttered her eyelashes and said “Only till I can find myself a place,” Flirty smiled and added “What is your name?” the girl blushed “Snow White,” she whispered in embarrassment, Flirty smiled “I am Flirty and this is Frisky,” The girl looked at the both before nodding. Frisky pointed down the street and said “Come on then.”

Snow slowly realised she was going home with too strapping young men. She started staring at them and taking in their feathers. Flirty was tall, dark and handsome but Frisky had long brown hair and rough stubble on his face. When they arrived at the block of flats, Snow asked “Which one is yours?” the men turned around and smiled, Frisky answered “All of them, all seven flats,”

“For all seven men,” Flirty added with a big grin on his face. Snow suddenly felt warn inside, seven absolutely gorgeous men in one building, she was glad she ran away from home.

Snow placed the one bag she had with her on the table and sat on the sofa. The flats looked awful from the outside, dull and run down but on the inside they were luxurious. Snow wondered why the men lived here and how they got the money for such expensive things but she didn’t want to be rude and ask. Flirty walked in the room with another man with Blond hair and striking green eyes, he was very muscly and very attractive. He walked over to Snow and said “I am Friendly, please to meet you,” Snow just nodded but she had a feeling she had seen him before. He blushed and sat on the other sofa, Flirty looked at Snow and said “You will have to come to work with us, Fancy doesn’t want you here alone but I think I have a job you can do,” He winked which also seemed familiar to Snow. Flirty got his car keys and encourage the others to show Snow to the car. Snow was in the car with Flirty, Frisky and Friendly but she was told that Funny, Fancy, Funky and Fizzy were in the other car.

When they reached the place they had called work, Snow noticed it was a dance studio. They walked into a huge studio and Snow sighed at her reflection straight away. Her usually neat hair was all over the pace, she combed it with her fingers back into a Black bob it usually was and felt instantly better. As soon as Friendly started dancing, Snows memories from the night before came flooding back “OMG YOU’RE MALE STRIPPERS!” she screamed as the seven men stared at her. The men just laughed “I am guessing you can now remember last night then,” Funny said as he finished laughing “No,” Snow answered and she was mortified. Flirty looked at her and said “You stayed after the show and was drinking with us, you were telling us what you would do to us behind closed doors, and you were being pretty…”

“Erotic,” added Frisky as Flirty struggle to finish his sentence. Snow was shocked; she was not usually like this at all. Flirty looked at her “Our front lady quit last night, I though you could fill in for her,” he whispered as reality suddenly dawned over Snow and she turned to leave. Fancy, one of the wiser of the young men then stepped up and said “Look Snow, you came here looking for something else, you ran away from home and you have nothing to go back too, it’s do or die for you so why don’t you just give it a shot?” Fancy’s word rung in Snows ears. Snow had gone from being a pampered princess to being a widow’s slave, a life which she only ran away from last night and was willing to go back already. She needed to prove to herself that she didn’t need that life, that she could earn money for herself, she turned around and nodded at fancy

“Yes, you’re right,” she said and the men smiled “Welcome to the team,” Fancy stated before handing her over to Funky who was going to teach her the ropes. Funky had short curly ginger hair and lovely blue eyes, he seemed to be shy compared to the other but the man could dance, all the men could dance!

The first thing Funky did was pull out a costume, it was a sexy ringmistress costume and it was lovely. The jacket was blue, the waistcoat was yellow, and it had a white shirt, it also came with black skin tight shorts. When snow tried it on and she felt absolutely amazing.  Flirty wolf whistled from the back of the studio as Snow studied herself in the mirror. Funky then went through how the night flows. Funky sat down next to Snow as she watched the men rehears “We open Thursday, Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays, 11:00 till 2 but the show is only 11:15 till 12:45, Ten minutes per set, opening, all seven of our acts and a closing set, go it,” Funky said and Snow nodded, Funky watched as Snow seemed mesmerised by the dancing the men were doing. He looked at her and said “Can you dance Snow?” she shook her head and said “My dad took me out of dance classes when I was younger and pushed me into maths,”

“Did you still want to dance?”  Snow turned to look at Funky but didn’t reply. Funky dropped it and continued teaching Snow “So your job is to introduce us and keep the crowd pumped so they give us more tips,” she nodded and Funky went to join the others rehearsing.

Flirty ran over to Snow, pulled her up and said “We are finished now and better go get ready for tonight,” Flirty pulled her really close and Snow could fell his muscles on her body, she didn’t want to admit how aroused Flirty made her feel but he was perfect. Flirty turned and walk away as if he knew she would follow, as if he knew he had her screaming for him on the inside.

Friendly walked out to the car with Snow and she wanted to know more about the man who had fascinated her so much the night before. “You are an amazing dancer,” She said trying to start up a conversation with him “Thank you,” He said before blushing. Snow was amazed by his modesty; she didn’t think he knew how good he was. “As dancers go, I think you are one of the best I have ever seen,” Friendly shook his head “The women don’t come to see me dance, they come to watch me take my clothes off and then they push for me to take them home to fulfil their fantasies,” Friendly said while getting in the car. This filled Snows head with more questions “Do any off you have girlfriends?” the three men in the car shook their heads “Who you want to share your boyfriend with hundreds of other women?” said Frisky with a smiled on his face. Flirty shook his head “Frisky likes to take his fans home and give them what they want, Friendly and I stopped doing that a long time ago,”

“Why did you stop?” Snow asked.

“Because women come home with us, get everything they want, a night of passion and pleasure then in the morning they go back to reality, a family, a husband and a perfect life, they just use us to live on the edge for one night,” Friendly said with heavy heart. “They want more, I give them more, its how I want to live and it keeps me full,” Frisky said, he said those words in a like he was a hunter and women with dull and repetitive sex lives were the pray, he finished his sentence with “I aim to please,” and chuckled all the way back to the flats. The men spent the rest of the afternoon getting costumes ready and packing the car but Flirty took time out too come see Snow who was having a nap ready to stay up most of the night.

Flirty gently knocked on the door and walked into the room topless. His muscles rippled as he moved and this made something inside of Snow sing. Flirty sat on the bed next to Snow and she sat up straight so she was fact to face with him, his gorgeous brown eyes gazed into hers as he said “We are setting off soon, I thought you might want to get ready,” Snow smiled at him but what she really wanted to do was just jump on him. Snow was very caged at home, she had only ever kissed a boy when she was younger and she hadn’t really thought about it since but these men turned her on, they really set her going and she had to think twice about kiss Flirty. Flirty react over Snow to open a draw on the night table. He pulled put a wallet and slowly brushed his hand against Snows legs as he put the wallet in his pocket, if she was going to do it, she was going to have to do it now. Snow lent in really close to Flirty’s lips and bit hers, to do it or not but Flirty took things into his own hands and kissed her. She was shocked at first but as he licked her lips with his tongue she started to relax. Wearing only one of Flirty’s old shirts Snow was already half naked and Flirty took advantage of that rubbing his hands all over her body, teasing and pleasing her until she wanted to beg for him to do it, to just fuck her but he had other ideas. He slowly got up and started walking away “What are you doing?” said Snow disappointing and pining for more “If I just gave it to you, the excitement is lost; I have to keep up the tempo,” he whispered before walking out.

Snow got dress into jeans and a t-shirt ready for the car ride to the Club, when she walked out onto the street she realised an ex-boyfriend shouting her. She walked up to him and asked “What are you doing here?”

“Your step mother wants you to come home,” He replied as he opened the car door. Snow shook her head and walked away “You don’t belong here Snow,” the Ex shouted “You are from a land of millionaires and socialites, this is a few pounds and drop outs,”

“Everyone can change,” Snow shouted back as the Ex got in the car and slammed his door.

Snow washed her face in the toilets before the show; she was really nervous and didn’t want to go out onto the stage. She saw a shadow behind her and she turned around. It was only Flirty, he picked her up and pinned her against the wall, Snow could feel something hard pressing against her legs and it was making her excited. Flirty kissed her and Snow kissed him back, slipping her tongue in and out of his month gently. Flirty was struggling to contain himself and pressed her harder against the wall. He placed his hand on her thigh and slowly stroked her up to the top of her legs, just before he used his fingers to stroke her insides Flirty backed off. He placed her back on the floor and gently kissed her on the forehead “See you after the show Snow,” he said before giving her a cheeky smile and leaving her desperate for him.

Snow leapt onto the stage and shouted to the rowdy audience “Are you ready ladies?” they screams as they knew what was coming. Snow was dazed by all the women, there were hundred and they were all waning one things, these seven men to take their clothes off for them. As the seven men ran onto the stage in their cowboy uniforms, the women screamed even louder and threw money onto the stage. Women stood up from out their seats just to get a touch of the men or an acknowledging wink. All the women wanted to be danced with as the men picked women out the crowd. This was what they paid for. All night the women were throwing money at the seven men and all night Snow had her eyes on her prize, she wanted Flirty and she wanted him bad.

When they finally got back to the flats, some of the men had invited women to come back with them and hurried into their bedrooms. Friend said goodnight and walked into his room alone. Once Flirty and Snow were alone he picked her up and walked into the bedroom with her in his arms. When he got to the bedroom he threw her down on the bed and took his shirt off, his beautiful body was something he used to turn ladies on and it worked at charm with Snow. She lay back on the bed and waited for him to crawl on top of her. He hovered over her and pulled her top off, and then he kissed all the way up to her lips before rest his body on top of hers. Snow smiled with delight as he kissed and nibbled on her neck and pushed his hips against hers. He pressed the hard bulge in his pants against her jeans which she just wanted to rip off. Somehow Flirty seemed to know what Snow wanted and he pulled down her jeans in hast while she unbuckled his belt and threw it to the ground allowing for his jeans to just slide off. At this point Snow was ready to beg for it, which gave her an Idea. She stood him up and got on her knees, now this she had never done before but she was ready to give it a try, she downed his boxers and exposed the only part of Flirty that the women at the club didn’t see. She took it in her hand and slowly paced it into her mouth. When she looked up, Flirty had the biggest grin on his face. This was what made men happy. The fact that snow was completely naked and giving a man a blow job that she had only met two days ago didn’t embarrass her, it excited her! She could defiantly get used to this new life. As Flirty started to find it hard to hold onto his load he pulled her up and kissed her quickly, he pushed her onto the bed and stroked her with his fingers. She didn’t know what to do, she wanted to scream and just before she did Flirty filled her mouth with his tongue and gave her something to concentrate on other than the pleasure she was feeling. As she felt the pleasure growing inside her Flirty placed himself inside her, just a little bit at first, he trusted slowly and gently but when he felt Snows muscles relax he got faster and harder. Snow felt the pleasure bubble over inside and she let out a little whimper. Flirty smiled before dropping onto the bed next to her. Snow rolled over and hugged him, they fell to sleep and Snow was happy for once.

The next morning Snow woke up but the men were gone. Flirty had left her a note on his mirror “Make yourself at home, we will be back after rehearsal” Snow sat in the living area and turned on the TV. Suddenly there was a buzz from the door. Snow walked up to the intercom and asked who it was “Snow it’s me, we need to talk,” The sound of her step-mothers voice tore through Snow like a hurricane but she knew she had to let her in, so she did.

Snows step mother sat across from her and said “I will make us some coffee,” Snow just let her do it because she knew she wasn’t going to go home with her. Snow took a sip from the drink her step mother had given her and immediately felt funny, before she knew it Snow blacked out.

When the men got home they found the door open and they ran inside. They found Snow on the floor and instantly took her to the hospital. The doctor told the Seven Strippers that Snow White had been drugged and she might never wake up. The other men left Flirty to watch over her while they piece together what had happened at the flats. While Snow was unconscious, the seven men pieced together what had happened and her step-mother was arrested. After 3 months the doctors discussed how unethical it was too keep Snow White on life support and decided to turn it off. Flirty walked in the room and said goodbye to Snow. “I hope you can hear me Snow because I want you to wake up, I was to talk to you again, I want to watch you dance and I want to make your life better, please just wake up,” Flirty kissed her on the lips and walked to excite the room. Unexpectedly with a cough, Snow uttered the words “I am awake,” Flirty spun around filled with joy. The doctors ran into the room followed by the other six strippers. The doctors looked at each other “This has never happened before,” they mumbled between themselves.

When Snow was finally allowed home, she couldn’t feel anymore content with going home with the seven strippers.

Snow and Flirty lived happily for around two weeks before a new act joined the group called Prince Charming and Snow fell madly in love with him. It turns out that Prince Charming was happy to share and Snow got the best of both worlds.

She was a very happy girl!!


Kristerella

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Somebody pinch me because I must be dreaming. It seems our very first F*CKED UP FAIRY TALE has come in! Thanks to my ever trashy but always wise blogmate Kevin Jorenby of  TRAILERTRASHDELUXE fame, we are treated to a fairy tale every bit as f*cked up as promised. Ladies and gentlemen, please to enjoy…KRISTERELLA!

***

by Kevin Jorenby

Kristerella awoke and stretched to the pleasant sounds of birds singing a happy tune.  Her head was thick from last night’s debauchery, but still she felt okay all in all.  She laid her head back down and soon was dreaming about her “main squeeze”, R-Patsy; he was just about to enter her when: “Cock-a-doodle-doo!!” went the damn rooster.

“Ohhh, that cock”, she lamented, “always waking me up when I get to the good part.”  Then she remembered a little of last night’s “after-party” with R-Patsy.  “Ohhhh, that cock”, she purred this time.  A little smile broke across her face at the recollection.  “Ouch”, she said, as her facial muscles, unaccustomed to smiling, or any emotion at all for that matter, entered unfamiliar territory.  She’d had small parts in the village plays, but never showed emotion in any of them.  Her vaguely good looks, and the fact that everyone felt bad about her orphaned status, were all that kept getting her roles.  Oh, there were some nasty rumors going around that she was overly friendly to the play director, and R-Patsy’s feelings were hurt by this, but Kristerella assured him, and anyone else who asked, that nothing much really happened and she still loved R-Patsy.

The thought of smiling made her sit bolt upright in her shabby straw bed.  She hid her face in her hands as she recalled more embarrassing details of last night.  She dimly recalled laughing at one of the jokes that one of her “backup squeezes” had told (was it Mandingo? or Bubba? she couldn’t remember; one was black and one was white, but all she knew and cared about was that they were both sure-handed coachmen and sure good lovers, and they always had weed).

“Please tell me I didn’t show emotion,” she sighed into her hands, “I just can not show emotion.”  Her father had taught her that showing emotion was for common folk, just as he had shown her how to pick the best pot, just before he was murdered by a rival drug gang.  She hadn’t kept up the family business, but she kept some of her dad’s connections, and either “traded favors” for enough weed to get her by, or scrounged together enough allowance from taking care of her mean-ass stepmother and ugly-ass stepsisters, to buy enough to keep her happy.  She loved sitting on the front porch when she thought no one was watching and getting high.  She also got a little income from a deal she had worked out with the mice, fencing things they stole from the ugly stepsisters.

God, but those were some ugly women.  Her stepmother had probably been sort of striking in her younger days, but her features were a little too sharp to be considered beautiful or even pretty.  The relentless aging process, as well as her unbridled greed, had taken away any pleasantness about her features, giving her a permanent, ugly scowl.  That is, except for when she felt like she was “putting one over” on someone, then she got this hideous satisfied smug look on her face, like one would get if they thought they’d denied someone their favorite shoes or something.  As for the stepsisters, they were a new and improved kind of ugly.  Kristerella, for the life of her, couldn’t figure out why God decided to strap a pair of vaginas on as homely and dumpy a couple of bodies as were ever formed.  Their mom was bad enough, but their dad must have made Sasquatch look like the royal Prince.

Oh, the Prince.  She would love to get a piece of that.  If R-Patsy only knew how she felt about the Prince, he’d really whine like a little baby.  It wasn’t just the money, the position, the way he could dance and sing; it was, more than anything else, the way he played the lute.  He did a lute solo during his song “When Dodo Birds Cry”, that sent her through the roof.

“Speaking of birds”, she thought to herself.  She took a couple quick hits off her pipe, threw the covers off her nude body, moved down and put her legs up on the footboard of her bed, and clapped twice.  Seemingly from everywhere, mice and birds appeared.  The birds first grabbed a sponge out of the wash-basin, dipped it in a huge bowl of honey, and flew in tandem over her body, squeezing out the honey-filled sponge all over her.  The mice spread the honey around on her and nibbled playfully at her neck, her nipples, and the entrance to her own honeypot.  Once the birds were done with the honey, they lined up in the rafters of her little garret.  At a whistled cue from the lead bird, they took off and lined up in an attack formation, diving down from the rafters and swooping in and out of her gaping gash, fluttering their wings at the entrance, like she had taught them to.  After a few minutes of this, she clapped her hands again, the birds and mice all backed off, and she shoved the giant heel of a glass slipper inside herself, crying out, “Oh my Puhrincccce!!!!” as she shuddered mightily in ecstasy.

Completely satisfied, Kristerella giggled a little stoned giggle, thinking to herself: “If R-Pats only knew who I really wanted.”  Then a horrible thought occurred to her–“Oh my God, he better have pulled out last night.  I don’t want to pop out a kid with that big fucking ugly forehead like R-Patsy has.  I mean, his eyes and his body drive me crazy, but that forehead is Uggggg-leee.”  “And the little bastard’s head would probably tear me in two coming out, if he has that same freaky forehead.  And where is he anyway?”

She got up and went to the window.  “Oh, now I get it”, she exclaimed.  There was a long, bright yellow rope hanging all the way down to the top part of the lower floor of the decaying manor house, the house that her pops had lovingly built up and Old Wartface herself had hatefully let go to rot while she spoiled the Ugly Twins with the last of her dad’s money, drug money that was rightfully Kristerella’s.  The rope was actually braided together out of human hair, from her longtime rival for R-Patsy’s affections, her slut of a distant cousin, the bitch that Kristerella liked to lovingly call “Ra-Cunt-Zel”, an even bigger pothead than Kristerella, who sold half of her hair years ago to Kristerella’s dad to pay for a couple pounds of weed.  The shit was so straw-like already from too much blonde hair dye, that it made a very sturdy rope.  Kristerella had to hand it to R-Patsy–he only needed to use the rope for the steepest part at the top of the house, the last section going up to Kristerella’s room, and the lower part he scaled like he was some sort of vampire or something.

After the birds and the mice helped her dress, Kristerella made her way down the long stairway toward the second-floor bedrooms of the Uglies.  On the way down, she spied a disgustingly obese mouse which she promptly named Gus, since she was a big “Lonesome Do-do bird” fan.  She put some undersized clothes on him so that everyone could ridicule his obesity even more.  She made Jean-Luc, the lead thief in her gang of mice-thieves, explain to Gus that if he wanted to keep on salting away the table scraps he’d have to pull his considerable weight as a thief.

She cracked open the door to her evil Stepmother’s room, the smell of the old lady’s gas nearly knocking her down in the process.  She whispered for the nasty cat, Aguilera, to follow her down to the kitchen for breakfast.  When they reached the kitchen, Kristerella started a fire in the woodstove while Aguilera farted, stretched, screeched some awful high noises, waved her paws oddly up and down as she screeched, then plopped down on the rug and promptly fell asleep.  The horse and the dog, two of the dumbest creatures Kristerella had ever met, but who magically seemed to communicate, with short neighs and barks, complicated messages to each other whenever the birds told them someone in the house needed rescuing, were sleeping in the morning sun.  The mice all came out and stole most of the corn from the chickens in the yard, pooled their strength and stole a broom off the wall, and bashed Aguilera over the head with it, just for fun.

The mean stepmom and the ugly stepsisters all finally woke up and rang their bells for breakfast.  Kristerella made them wait while she smoked a couple joints, blowing pot smoke into the nostrils of the unconscious Aguilera.  After a while, she tired of this and took the now-lukewarm porridge and tea up to the bitches, the now-groggily awake Aguilera close behind.  Aguilera spied Gus hiding under a teacup, grabbed him and threw him at the ugliest sister, who shrieked at her mother.  The evil stepmother then gave Kristerella 3 days worth of work to do before lunch, as punishment.  Kristerella didn’t care; she had plenty of weed, and the stepmother would be too busy trying to make ladies out of her clumsy, ugly daughters to bother checking on Kristerella’s work.  She still found time to beat Aguilera with her mop bucket, though.

As she was busy cleaning, Kristerella heard a knock on the door.  It was a representative from the royal palace, inviting all the women from the household to a ball in honor of the Prince that night.  The King was worried that the Prince was a little “light in the loafers”, since all he wanted to do was ride horses, play the lute, and dress in frilly purple sportcoats, so he made the Duke organize a dance so that the Prince could find a mate.

Kristerella took the note up to the so-called “music room”, where the step-mother was assaulting the piano in accompaniment to the Ugly Twins doing their best to out-screech Aguilera.  “At least Aguilera’s screeching is usually in tune”, sighed Kristerella as she opened the door.  She interrupted the Uglies in what appeared to be some sort of sisterly foreplay.  Kristerella would’ve steamed open the letter, but the King’s official seal was on it, and she dared not break that.  Besides, when she had snuck out earlier for a midmorning puff, she ran into Bubba, who’d told her about the royal ball.  He’d heard it from the widow lady down the lane, the one who lived in a shoe (which she called “The Shaq” for some reason) and who traded Bubba killer blowjobs for his killer “chronic”, so that she could keep her sanity while raising 23 of the laziest kids on the planet (except for the ugly stepsisters, that is).  The old woman was sending all 9 of her daughters that were over the age of 11 to the ball, along with one of her sons, Percy, who liked to design and sew all his sister’s clothes (“if you know what I mean”, she’d say), “just in case”, since, like everyone else, she’d heard the rumors about the Prince.  It was really assumed that Percy would go anyway, even though the ball was for young ladies and their adult chaperones, because he had designed most of the gowns in the kingdom, and treated all the dances as if they were his own personal fashion show.  His mother was pretty redneck about Percy, but she had to admit that he had the only ambition in the whole bunch, and his dress designs brought in much-needed income.  Percy’s “gaydar” didn’t really go off around the Prince, but he, like Kristerella, had many fantasies about the Prince and held out hopes that perhaps one day he could convince the Prince to “bat for the other side”.  Besides, he had a purple paisley sportcoat that he knew the Prince would like.

Kristerella quietly stood while her mean stepmother read aloud the note about that night’s upcoming ball.  The ugly stepsisters snorted and farted gracelessly with homely excitement as their mother tried to calm them down, fully realizing that it would take the whole 10 hours to try to scrape off the outer layer of ugly and make them marginally presentable.  Still, even a bitchy mother can dream.

“What are you looking at, ‘Second-hand Rose'”?, sneered the ugliest sister, setting both of them into gales of clumsy, snotting, spitting, choking laughter.  Kristerella did get their hand-me-downs, and got some cash too, from the clothes and jewelry (that the stepsisters forgot they had, or didn’t like but thought they were in too good a shape to give to the hated Kristerella) stolen by Jean-Luc and his gang of mice-thieves, right out of their closets.

“Surely I can go to the ball too,” cried Kristerella.  She was bound and determined to get the Prince out of his paisley knickers for real, not just in fantasy.  Her mean stepmother agreed that, if Kristerella remodelled the entire west wing of the manor, and resodded 5 acres of lawn, she could go to the ball also.

Kristerella quickly went to the stables and serviced both Bubba and Mandingo in exchange for a buzz and their help with the extra work.  She then beat the birds and mice mercilessly, forcing them to resew her late mother’s frumpy old gown and to steal some jewelry and accessories from the ugly stepsisters to complete her outfit.  Her plan worked beautifully until she made the mistake of modelling her outfit in front of her evil stepmother and her ugly stepsisters.  It just so happened that the sheriff, who once upon a time had a little affair with Kristerella’s evil stepmother during her first marriage, chose that moment to stop by and bring some zucchini.  The evil stepmother, even as she was making eyes at the sheriff, spied some parts of Kristerella’s outfit that looked familiar.  She pointed them out to the dimwitted stepsisters, who slooooowly realized that the items had been stolen from them.  They demanded the sheriff immediately arrest Kristerella for receiving stolen goods; he hauled her off to jail.

As luck would have it, another distant relative of Kristerella’s, Magda, was in jail doing time for insider stock trading.  Magda could do magical things in the home; people used to say she could “make a tea party out of a horse turd.”  In return for Bubba throwing some weed to her through the jail’s outside window, Magda took some old rags that happened to be lying around in the jail cell and sewed them into a fine gown that would’ve made Percy proud.  Before she had gone off with the sheriff, Kristerella had managed to whisper to Mandingo, who was standing nearby, that she would be ever-so-grateful if he’d bring her glass slippers to the jail so that she’d have something to do that night.  Mandingo rolled his eyes at her nymphomania, but complied anyway.  The slippers, and some spangles and jewelry taken off a nearby passed-out “lady of the evening” in the same cell (who’d made the mistake of being so drunk that she propositioned the parson in front of his wife) completed the outfit.  Mandingo and Bubba, being close friends of all the “shoe” family, convinced a couple of the oldest daughters to stop by the jail and model their gowns for the sheriff.  Mandingo then stole the cell keys while the sheriff was thus distracted, freeing Kristerella.  Meanwhile Bubba laced the sheriff’s pipe tobacco with some powerful weed.  The sheriff, unaccustomed to the stuff, lit up a bowl, took a few puffs, and slept for 24 hours.  The “shoe” girls, being used to doing each other’s hair and makeup, slightly altered Kristerella’s hair and makeup, knowing that would be enough to fool the dimwitted stepsisters at the ball; they had to rely on the dim lighting at the ball to help fool the evil stepmother.

The ball went as you would imagine; the Prince shuddered at the raw ugliness of Kristerella’s stepsisters, which caused Kristerella to wonder how the Prince would look shuddering in ecstasy with her, and the Prince took one look at Kristerella and fell in love.  R-Patsy (who unbeknownst to everyone was way older than he looked) had suffered a heart attack while climbing down from his 3-hour performance with Kristerella the night before, and fallen to his death, hidden in the ivy until found several days later by the dog, and was a nonfactor in the rest of this tale.  The Prince and Kristerella danced for hours, then slipped outside for a quickie on the footbridge in the moonlight.  They pledged their undying love for each other and Kristerella showed the Prince how to pleasure her with the heels of her glass slippers, which she’d had custom-made to resemble a sizeable dildo.  After awhile they decided they should go back in, as it was getting late.  At precisely midnight, one of the servants, who had been playing catch with his friend with garden produce, accidentally beaned the evil stepmother in the head with a pumpkin.  As the stepmother shook her head to clear it, her evil ugly eyes lit on the Prince’s new flame, who she suddenly realized was her servant girl, her late husband’s daughter Kristerella.  She cried out “Thief, thief!  Get her–she must have escaped from the jail.”  Kristerella ran off, breaking a jagged piece off one of her dildo-heels in the process, which the Duke promptly picked up.

The next day, the King sent the Duke to match up the broken piece of dildo with the rest of the heel of the slipper.  Only the King, the Prince, the Duke and, of course, Kristerella knew that the pieces were part of the slipper, not just some random dildo.  The Duke travelled the kingdom with the broken piece, claiming to have found it at the ball, and that the Prince really wanted to meet the woman who had the most similar dildo to it.  The Duke had to inspect dildoes of all sizes and shapes.  When he got to the house of Kristerella and her stepfamily, he found that the stepsisters had dildoes as ugly as their owners.  Meanwhile, the evil stepmother had found Kristerella hiding in the wardrobe in her room, locked her in, and hid the key in her pocket.  Gus and Jean-Luc managed to steal it, but Gus had a heart attack and died on the way up to bring it to Kristerella.

Aguilera, who found that she now loved pot almost as much as Kristerella did, was high as a kite, singing and moving her paws oddly up and down on the stairs up to Kristerella’s room.  She thought Jean-Luc was a toy, so she started to toss him and the key up in the air.  The birds saw this, quickly realized what was going on, and somehow magically passed this information on to the horse, who with one loud whinny, magically passed the entire story written down here to the dog, who dashed into the manor, up the stairs, scared away Aguilera, grabbed Jean-Luc and the key in his jaws (instantly breaking Jean-Luc’s back and killing him) and delivered a slobbery key and a dead mouse under Kristerella’s door.  She ran downstairs to show the Duke her broken slipper, but of course the evil stepmother tripped her, causing the slipper to fall to the floor and break into a thousand little pieces.  Kristerella wiped the smug smirk off the evil stepmother’s face by producing the other slipper, identical dildo-heel and all, to the Duke.

Kristerella and the Prince lived happily ever after, until he moved her to a place later called Minneapolis, where he did nothing but write songs for his lute, and became so in love with himself that she dumped him.  The stepsisters and stepmother became so lazy and despondent that they laid in bed all day, until an earthquake happened one day, further breaking down the decaying manor, and stirring up so much mouse piss and so many mouse droppings (from the vermin that Kristerella had used as partners in crime over the years), that they all contracted hantavirus and soon died horrible deaths.  Bubba and Mandingo set up a pot-growing operation with “Mama Shoe” and married a couple of the daughters.  Percy moved to Paris and became a huge success.  Kristerella was last seen muttering to herself and walking through the American wilderness, for some reason heading towards the Pacific Northwest, still showing no emotion whatsoever.


Holy Jayne It’s Firefly!

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Attention all you shiny folks from the ‘Verse! Today is the tenth anniversary of the first episode of the uber series that hardly was, FIREFLY. You don’t have to be a Joss Whedon fan to appreciate his dystopian western turned cult-classic.

For anyone who’s read my novella REAPERS WITH ISSUES and enjoyed the antics of a horseman named War, you may want to pay close attention to a character named Jayne Cobb.

Here’s a big thank you to a young uber fan-friend of mine for her awesome video below.


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