>>35407557She refuses my request for breast. The angry demon side of me is taking over. Making a nice guy angry is mistake #1. The curse nice guys bear every day is torment. Always wanting, waiting, watching while the big muscular douche bags get their tiny peckers wet with the sweet nectar of womanhood. There is no string of words to describe the magnitude of danger us nice guys have to hold back every day. "Fuck you, whore!" I spit. "I am actually a nice guy, and could have made you happy if you just gave me a chance." I step forward with great difficulty. My five hundred pound body seems to slow me down, but has no effect on my masterful dexterity. You see, rather than working on my body like any other jock in the locker room, I studied the art of combat. The art of the blade. This whore doesn't know the maelstrom of hurt I am about to bring down upon her head. Pitiful. I lift my carbon steel katana of ten million folds, only for it to slip from my grasp. "How?!" I avert my gaze from the whore's bosom to my hand. "Spaghetti?" By god. This bitch managed to activate my spaghetti glands! I fall to my knees. A tsunami of spaghetti erupts from the recesses of my comfy basketball shorts mother gifted me three winters past. I no longer have the will to fight. As she scrambles in fear away from my lair, I can do nothing but stare at her sweet behind. Have I truly become a monster? Was all my studying for naught? What was I trying to accomplish? One thing is for certain. I currently have a half chub. 'Tis a rare occasion and I cannot let it go to waste.
