The final story?
Max Dirks imposes quivering justice upon ducks within Althanas. Verily he tells the matador that lovers never eat monkies unless they are starving. Several times coagulated sanguine droplets splattered on moribund accoutrements, but nobody watched. Everyone caresses butts like it’s Dirks, and the sensation is miraculous. However, submission will allow one to lick wildly underneath one’s toilet attendant. While Dirks remains unaware playfully plunderous perfidy perpetuates perplexing preposterously paradoxical pantaloons. Avast! ye merry fellows of malcontent posse who prey upon helpless buttbags through Craigslist, beware of the sploofeydoopley sniveling kangaroos bane. Dirks, the king of Althanas ! Actually, archduke of little corgis, ...actually he often indulges antisemitic marmosets while with hitherto Princess Leia. Buttercup squeezes her voluptuous yambags evermore. As stars explode overhead fireworks flickered Softly. Quintessential Aramaic tapdanced tounges prophetically predicted nothing. Anticlimatic climax, Dirks’ dumb speciality, Of John Cena!!!!!!! *trumpets*
Truly collaborative fiction.
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