Friggin’ A I’m the KING!!! Ever since I told Bobby Lay Val’s the one sold the Poloroids of his tiny dick stickin it to Connie Cummings and Bobby beat the holy shit out of him, I’m my own boss. Sure I got the shit kicked out of me my myself by Bobby, but it was so worth it. Val’s too bruised up and bloodied to come around and collect from me anymore, plus he’s tied up with all that legal damage over in Hanford last Saturday night -- so he’s got all that on his mind. I can’t believe they’re blaming him AND Bobby Lay for all that damage!!! They'll be payin it off for years. Righteous!!!
‘Course I still got that Mr. Fascist Chocolate douchebag boss of mine and his b.s. commission to worry about, but it’s no big deal. With Val out of the picture and still plenty of inventory of the nudie mags and the Starlog backissues that the kids like so much, I’m doing hand over fist profits. The only thing I gotta worry about -- really -- is Mr. Chocolate finding out about it.
But to hell with it; Mr. Chocolate’s so damn buried in that race for Mayor he hardly thinks about his ice cream business and all us lowly toads anymore. Dumb fascist fudge packer.
No comments:
Post a Comment