Unfortunately or fortunately this fable, depending on how you view this series of incidents, contains me but is not about me. (this story must be read in a voice as if a paedophile would read a fairy tale to a child to make him fall to sleep)
It all started on a cold-cold night at the end of the Michaelmas term, everybody had finished their studies for the year and it was time for Christmas dinner at 36 No-Manners Road. The four young men were excited about their dinner and their dangerous amounts of drinking that was to follow.
“Can I have some more gravy?” Baby Jesus asked, but there was none and he was so sad.
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| Gravy Always Quenches Justin's Almighty Thirst |
36 No-Manners Road consists of four big smart boys, Prancer, Lancer, Dancer and Baby Jesus. After dinner, which was a scrumptious and warming chicken roast dinner; the boys found a full bottle of their favourite Christmas poison, Port. Once the bottle was open it was absolute sacrilege to let the bottle touch the table before it had gone down in to their big smart bellies.
The big smart boys all went on a big silly night out and had an absolute hoot, Prancer, Lancer and Dancer all went home and slept a wonderful night’s sleep. As for Baby Jesus, he did not sleep very much at all.
Baby Jesus met a wonderful little slut-whore-skank-local-gal called Chelsea; she was so friendly she assumed that getting her breasts out in the club was the norm. After the infectious first impressions they made their way to a sofa in a friend’s house. With a little Christmas magic there was a twinkle in her eyes and all of a sudden she was naked, Baby Jesus was glad that he had been a good boy all year and Santa had delivered early.
He didn’t want to take part in penal insertion on this particular night, so he used his Christmas spirit to give her
something that she would be great full for. He flipped her on all fours and ‘machine gunned’ her.
Machine Gunning Defined: The act of fingering somebody from behind whilst shaping your hand like a gun and having the rhythm of a machine gun.
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| Friction Burn |
Whilst partaking in this action, he felt that the sights to the gun (her outer most sphincter) needed opening up. So using the thumb of the gun and a little assistance from his lingual muscle, he had prised open her tiny pot of nutella and a burst of aromatic nutty flavours emitted from her petite arsehole.
At the end of her 40 minute Christmas probing, Baby Jesus got his hand back only to find the remnants of the inside of her womb, coating his hands. He was analysing the area, searching for a good spot to off load the period that swamped his claws. In embarrassment, slut-i-ness or just pure pleasure Chelsea grabbed Baby Jesus’ hand licked it all off as if it were the last bit of the most delicious gravy she had ever had.
Baby Jesus was happy that somebody got some extra gravy, even it wasn’t himself. When he returned home to Prancer, Lancer and Dancer he showed them all his nails, they had enough dirt under them to scrape them out and use them as gravy granules ourselves.
Merry Christmas everyone, enjoy your gravy.
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