Friday, February 14, 2014

Why not?

'You don't dare?', she asked, half smug, half anxious.
'Oh, you'd just love to find out, wouldn't you?', he replied. Loosening his tie. Stepping forward. Devil-may-care dripping from eyebrows, moonbeams glinting off cold eyes. He tilted his head as he came forward, lips slightly parted...
He picked up the monstrous sandwich, stuffed to the brim and beyond, a daredevil french fry leaped forth, grabbing desperately at his white shirt, missed, and careened into the ravines below, screaming only as a disillusioned fry can. A mozzarella stick poked out from underneath the lettuce, wondering, but not brave enough, or foolish enough, to try and duplicate that stunt.  He opened his mouth wide, getting some mayonnaise on his lips as he engulfed the arterial clusterfuck, mindless in the ecstasy that overcomes the devourers of worlds as they consume an entire planet, its people, their culture and their porn. (though those things were synonymous on some planets.)
She just stared, amazed, horrified, and morbidly fascinated, it was like watching a snake eat an antelope. Horns and all. Bit by bit, not hurrying, nor slowing down, he went at the monstrous concoction till naught remained but crumbs, which he then licked off his fingers. Then, and only then, did he look up at her,  a smile on his lips, along with some crumbs, and she found that her breath was coming in shallow gasps, as if she'd just finished running a marathon. There was something about a man who could eat an entire fat sandwich in one go. Something irresistible, something delicious. She did not care anymore.
She went at him, as he'd gone at the sandwich.

- This happened in no universe. Ever.
   Not even one where we elect politicians with a criminal record, watch videos of cats falling into bathtubs, and arbitrarily decide Pluto's not a planet anymore.

- Poor Pluto.  

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