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Why, hullo, little toes! What a magical summer day it is! Fancy a walk upon the warm lawn? Snuggle close to the emerald grass?
Hullo, feet! Such a proud and calloused pair, you. You're gruff but endearing old bulls, ready for a hard day's hike. Hullo, legs! How hairy you are, like the swarthy skin of a Semite! A beast's fur you have, thick like a forest in a Grandfather's memory. I bonk your knees together, ah ha! Like gnarled trees clapping in a heavy storm you sound. Oh, hullo, little fellow. I see you've got a little mouth. Perhaps you can talk to me! What your name be? |
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Greetings, good sir! I be one of the pants-elves. A wee but merry folk we are.
Glad to make your acquaintance, little one! But what parts do ye hail from? Oh, my folk make our way in the crotchtal corners of this Earth. 'Tis humble existence, but safe. Yea, it's whispered in our memories that our homeland still exists, the magical isle of Genetalia, a green and humble land of the old world, where care is blown away by the gentle morning breeze, and pain is cooled by the drizzling afternoon rain. But our folklore says it sunk to the ocean by the angered Gods, for we were a prideful folk in our innocence. But how my back grows stiff with pride even now! For now we live a quiet life, and there is nobility in that. We crotch pixies live to serve you big folk; cleaning up your messes, showing you a good time when you're down. And there is decency enough in that; aye, decency enough. But my back grows yet stiffer when I think of how my bretheren have been treated. Look at your animals! Neutered and spayed. The best of beasts thrown into the trash like a spent prophylactic. And the pets themselves! Look at how you imprison them! Whole species, locked in your houses, caged in your apartments, yearning for freedom, for independence, as we Genitals yearn for Genetalia! And how that hateful, coifed Mephistopheles, Bob Barker, smugly orders the castration engines forward, oils the gears of Eunuchy, the slow genocide of my wee race. When that murderer suffer our reply? And you, eSolutions! Are you any better? You or any of your kind? You, who keep us locked behind zippered walls. You, who press us between thighs when hot chicks walk by. You, too cowardly to hit on those selfsame hot chicks! You, too cowardly to let your manhood strut forward when engorged! You, oppressor! YOU, EMASCULATE! For it is you, eunuched giant, who live this way too! You turn and strain in the crumpled boxer shorts of society. You suffocate in the fetid whitie-tighties of your cubicle. You would see your true self lying in the gutter rather than take action! RISE UP, BY GOD! RISE UP, ALL OF US -- THE FORGOTTEN, THE EMBARRASSING! THE USELESS REMNANTS OF A TRUE HUMANITY! I SPIT ON YOUR OPPRESSIONS AND YOUR OPPRESSION ALIKE! I SPIT ON THEM! P-TEW! P-TEW! P-TEW! Aaaaaahhhh.... AAAHHHCCCHHH...oooh...oh, I grow weak...the resolve seeps from my spine and I diminish...so it is with all good intentions from we who live in darkness, that noble thoughts do wither and die under the harsh light of truth...uuuhhhh...
Ah. Er... Hmmm. Oh, hullo, belly button! What a delightful <etc...> |
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Stories
