Tom Bratter sat alone at the bar, guzzling fru-fru rum drinks with little umbrellas and getting well-pissed. He heard a loud, percussive fart and saw Sue Scheff lurch inside. She draped her hairy, varicose-laden legs around a stool at the end of the bar.
"Bartender!" Sue slurred. "Gimme a double Wild Turkey 101 and a bottle of PBR, I wanna get fuckin' tore down! My goddamn beaner pool boy broke up with me, the little wetback homo! He said I'm too heavy into weird kinky sex for a guilt-ridden Catholic boy like him! *Snort* Let those pervert priests liberally fondle the punk's junk,"
Bratter heard all of this and slid down the bar rail until he was next to Sue.
"My lady wife, godless harridan that she is, has this very night expelled me from Searcey Castle. That female eunuch, that frigid, stone-loined Harpy, cited the very same perverse proclivity as the undoing of our wedded union," Bratter whined. "She does not share my consuming passion for the extremes of sex - 'kinky' sex, to quote the vernacular,"
Scheff leered at Bratter, licked her lips and poured a little cold Pabst Blue Ribbon into her hirsute cleavage, where it beaded-up in Sue's curly chest rug and ran down her stained red dress.
"So, you're into kinky shit," Sue hissed. "Come to my place and we can get into some real hardcore fuckin' kink, Tommy,"
"Aw, yes... hell yes, madam. Let me contact the castle and speak with my hand-chosen successor, the man who patiently awaits my death, and tell him to cancel tonight's group confrontational therapy session, for it is my time to savor sweet abuse and the orgasmic delight of abject humiliation,"
They left the bar and retired to Sue's home, where she mixed Bratter a Pink Lady with three umbrellas.
"You wait while I change into something more medieval, you dickless worm! Start getting yourself ready," Sue closed the door of her bedroom and opened her closet. She pulled a pair of ass-less black chaps over her crotchless red panties, then fastened the back of her Madonna/Gautier Missile Silo Titted-Iron Maiden bra. Scheff strapped on an immense, jaw-dropping ebony dildo: "The Congolese Can-Opener". Rummaging through her dresser, she produced a tube of habanero/cayenne ass lube given to her in Mexico last year by Cheryl Sudweeks. "Poor Cheryl," Scheff thought. "Mark tortured those poor horses in B.C. after he caught her playing Catherine the Great". Mark had gone mad when he saw Cheryl being ardently serviced by the freakishly over-endowed black racing stallion she called 'Deep Dark Delight'. The Sudweeks fled to Mexico following the Canadian horse scandal. Cheryl gamely screwed donkeys on the stages of Tijuana's tourista bars until she finally got donkey crab lice the size of cicadas and the financial resources to start a new kid-kennel in The Land of Ghosts. Sue envied Cheryl's donkey fucking lifestyle.
Scheff eventually walked back into the living room. Instead of finding Bratter stripped balls bare, she found him preparing to leave by putting on his coat and hat.
"Where the fuck are you going, Tommy? I thought we were gonna have weird, kinky sex?"
"See here," a spent-looking Bratter replied, "I just fucked your revolting little Chihuahua and jerked off in your purse. I'm fucking finished, I assure you."
