Mittens T. Cat
League Member
- Joined
- Jul 20, 2006
- Messages
- 109
- Points
- 0
"Just so you know," Don King began to Mittens as they walked on the streets of Miami. "I've banged some fine ass white b!tches in my time."
Mittens smiled... of course, he was always smiling, but still. "Oh yeah?"
Chuck Woolery interjected, "Big f**kin' deal, Don. Seriously, we've *ALL* f**ked some fine ass b!tches, whoop-de-do-da-god-damn-day, Don. You know? You know? I mean seriously, all you do is talk about pu$$y. pu$$y this, pu$$y that. I mean, seriously, how would you like it if all I did was talk about something you see 24/7?"
"And how would you like it if you had to walk into the hospital and somene hafta ask you, why my black foot be in yo' white ass? How would you like that mess, Chuck?" Don King was infuriated!
"And how would you like it if I found Mrs. King and showed her why white meat is so much better than your wrinkly, shriveled little dick?"
Mittens interrupted, "Wouldn't it sound better if you said, 'why white meat is so much better than dark'?"
Don King paid no attention to Mittens, "And how would you like it if I farted on yo' ugly ass face right now? I bet it would hurt yo little queer ass feelin's huh?"
Chuck replied, "And how would you like it if I just pat my weiner right now, eh Don?" Chuck stood in front of the World's Most Famous Boxing Promoter, and began slappin the groin of his pants lightly. "eh? eh Don? Would you like it Don?"
"Chuck! Chuck! You better stop that gay sh!t now! I don't play, I DON'T PLAY CHUCK!"
"Case Closed," San Diego Chicken said.
Mittens asked, "New catchphrase?"
"Yeah. You like?"
"Oh definately. You should go with a lawyer gimmick."
"Too Harvey Birdman."
"You think?"
"Yeah, I mean, I'm a lawyer, and a bird? C'mon."
"...yeah."
Suddenly, it came to Mittens that they were here for another purpose. Since halfway down on the flight from Georgia he completely forgot about what they came for. He kept singing Jimmy Buffett songs with Chuck Woolery, which obviously made him want to bang a fat girl. Don't judge his tastes.
Mittens began, "Dude, Don."
"Yeah?"
"Tell me that story again about that time in 1989, when you totally nailed these siamese twins."
"Aight," Don said. Clearing his throat, he began. "It all started early that mornin'. I woke up, ate some breckfust, and then f*cked my wife. I did her so good she got fired that day cause she kept callin' everybody Don. Ooo-wee! Anyway, you know, I'm walkin' around outside and these asian siamese twins walk up. Only, you know, they weren't so much Siamese twins as it was a body with two heads. One was named Wing Wang, the other was named Ting Tang. So I said, 'well Ting Tang and Wing Wang, let me cut to the chase. I wanna stick my big, black goober in your tiny little asshole'. They banged good too boy. Sometimes we'd get goin so fast I'd make their heads slam against each other. That was funny as hell boy, I'd be like POW, POW, POW! and they heads be like 'WHAM, WHAM, WHAM!' Anyhow I told 'em to get the f*ck out of my house, and naw they can't have none of my money. I tell them, I said 'hey, wing wong and ding dong' and they be like, 'no we ting tang and wing wang' and I said, 'no, you're f*cked up. Now get the hell out.' But they weren't to pleased, so they tried to set my ass on fire. I said, 'YOU GOD DAMN TWO HEADED B!TCH' and just POOOOOOOOW, the Pimpslap from Hell. I knocked all they teeth out, called them a cab, and made them walk home anyway! Aha, I'm rich!"
Chuck Woolery interrupted what would otherwise be an incredibly long, awkward silence, fairly quickly. "You think that's good? I got a whopper for ya, son."
"Wuzzat?" Mittens asked.
"Well, one thing you should know about Chuck Woolery is, Chuck Woolery won't stick it in a bald vag. It aint my style. If I'm gonna stick my weiner in somethin, I need some hair around it."
"What about an ass?" San Diego Chicken asked.
"What?"
"He said," Mittens interrupted, "What about an ass? You don't stick your weiner in asses?"
"I've sent some tubesteak up the old dooky shoot in my day."
"Well then wtf, Chuck? You only stick it in hairy assholes? You gay mang, straight up."
"It's not like that, Mittens, you god damn retarded cat f@ggot. I'm Chuck Woolery, okay, and Chuck Woolery f*cks cute, clean asses and unshaven vag. That's it. Anyway, I was walkin' down the road, as I often do in the 'burbs, and I just did, like, 100 chicks right there in the street. I mean, turds were flyin' I did so many chicks in their butt."
"No you didn't Chuck. That's a god damn lie."
"No it--"
"IT'S A GOD DAMN LIE, CHUCK! ADMIT IT CHUCK, YOU F**KING LIAR!"
"okay, I made it up."
"I know you did you lyin' little b!tch."
"F*ck you."
"Man, you would."
"...F*ck you."
"Hey hey hey, what's the problem?" A familiar voice came in. From behind.
I know this guy named Katz, he like, knows about things like that all too well.
When they turned around, it was Will Smith himself.
"Guys, no need to argue. It's a new Millenium.
"Or excuse me, Willenium.
"
Mittens smiled... of course, he was always smiling, but still. "Oh yeah?"
Chuck Woolery interjected, "Big f**kin' deal, Don. Seriously, we've *ALL* f**ked some fine ass b!tches, whoop-de-do-da-god-damn-day, Don. You know? You know? I mean seriously, all you do is talk about pu$$y. pu$$y this, pu$$y that. I mean, seriously, how would you like it if all I did was talk about something you see 24/7?"
"And how would you like it if you had to walk into the hospital and somene hafta ask you, why my black foot be in yo' white ass? How would you like that mess, Chuck?" Don King was infuriated!
"And how would you like it if I found Mrs. King and showed her why white meat is so much better than your wrinkly, shriveled little dick?"
Mittens interrupted, "Wouldn't it sound better if you said, 'why white meat is so much better than dark'?"
Don King paid no attention to Mittens, "And how would you like it if I farted on yo' ugly ass face right now? I bet it would hurt yo little queer ass feelin's huh?"
Chuck replied, "And how would you like it if I just pat my weiner right now, eh Don?" Chuck stood in front of the World's Most Famous Boxing Promoter, and began slappin the groin of his pants lightly. "eh? eh Don? Would you like it Don?"
"Chuck! Chuck! You better stop that gay sh!t now! I don't play, I DON'T PLAY CHUCK!"
"Case Closed," San Diego Chicken said.
Mittens asked, "New catchphrase?"
"Yeah. You like?"
"Oh definately. You should go with a lawyer gimmick."
"Too Harvey Birdman."
"You think?"
"Yeah, I mean, I'm a lawyer, and a bird? C'mon."
"...yeah."
Suddenly, it came to Mittens that they were here for another purpose. Since halfway down on the flight from Georgia he completely forgot about what they came for. He kept singing Jimmy Buffett songs with Chuck Woolery, which obviously made him want to bang a fat girl. Don't judge his tastes.
Mittens began, "Dude, Don."
"Yeah?"
"Tell me that story again about that time in 1989, when you totally nailed these siamese twins."
"Aight," Don said. Clearing his throat, he began. "It all started early that mornin'. I woke up, ate some breckfust, and then f*cked my wife. I did her so good she got fired that day cause she kept callin' everybody Don. Ooo-wee! Anyway, you know, I'm walkin' around outside and these asian siamese twins walk up. Only, you know, they weren't so much Siamese twins as it was a body with two heads. One was named Wing Wang, the other was named Ting Tang. So I said, 'well Ting Tang and Wing Wang, let me cut to the chase. I wanna stick my big, black goober in your tiny little asshole'. They banged good too boy. Sometimes we'd get goin so fast I'd make their heads slam against each other. That was funny as hell boy, I'd be like POW, POW, POW! and they heads be like 'WHAM, WHAM, WHAM!' Anyhow I told 'em to get the f*ck out of my house, and naw they can't have none of my money. I tell them, I said 'hey, wing wong and ding dong' and they be like, 'no we ting tang and wing wang' and I said, 'no, you're f*cked up. Now get the hell out.' But they weren't to pleased, so they tried to set my ass on fire. I said, 'YOU GOD DAMN TWO HEADED B!TCH' and just POOOOOOOOW, the Pimpslap from Hell. I knocked all they teeth out, called them a cab, and made them walk home anyway! Aha, I'm rich!"
Chuck Woolery interrupted what would otherwise be an incredibly long, awkward silence, fairly quickly. "You think that's good? I got a whopper for ya, son."
"Wuzzat?" Mittens asked.
"Well, one thing you should know about Chuck Woolery is, Chuck Woolery won't stick it in a bald vag. It aint my style. If I'm gonna stick my weiner in somethin, I need some hair around it."
"What about an ass?" San Diego Chicken asked.
"What?"
"He said," Mittens interrupted, "What about an ass? You don't stick your weiner in asses?"
"I've sent some tubesteak up the old dooky shoot in my day."
"Well then wtf, Chuck? You only stick it in hairy assholes? You gay mang, straight up."
"It's not like that, Mittens, you god damn retarded cat f@ggot. I'm Chuck Woolery, okay, and Chuck Woolery f*cks cute, clean asses and unshaven vag. That's it. Anyway, I was walkin' down the road, as I often do in the 'burbs, and I just did, like, 100 chicks right there in the street. I mean, turds were flyin' I did so many chicks in their butt."
"No you didn't Chuck. That's a god damn lie."
"No it--"
"IT'S A GOD DAMN LIE, CHUCK! ADMIT IT CHUCK, YOU F**KING LIAR!"
"okay, I made it up."
"I know you did you lyin' little b!tch."
"F*ck you."
"Man, you would."
"...F*ck you."
"Hey hey hey, what's the problem?" A familiar voice came in. From behind.
I know this guy named Katz, he like, knows about things like that all too well.
When they turned around, it was Will Smith himself.
"Guys, no need to argue. It's a new Millenium.
"Or excuse me, Willenium.
"