>>42462996Picture this.
You are walking down the street when you see something shuffling towards you. A heaving mass of tanned flesh stuffed into a tube dress three sizes too small.
Staggering in your direction due to the high heels it is wearing and its refusal to tear its eyes away from the smartphone in its hand. The other hand carrying a bottle of alcohol.
It stops and looks at you through bloodshot eyes, impossible to tell if this a consequence of drugs, alcohol or its thick makeup getting in its eyes as it melts. You look at its chins and realise it does not have a tan, it has smothered itself in fake tan and the product was not only applied unevenly but it is melting and pouring out from between the folds of its flab. It has left a trail of bronze droplets behind it.
It mutters something about clubs. It drops its phone, it's fine the screen is already shattered and only held in place by the screen protector. It bends over and picks it up, a man on the other side of the street behind it looks and vomits.
As it lifts its head back up it notices you're carrying something other than alcohol or a phone. It stares at you with its bloodshot eyes caked in melting mascara and opens a mouth crusted shut with herpes sores mixed with lipstick and says: "Ere yer a queer one aintcha?"
Then it waddles off. Leaving only an overpowering smell of cheap perfume and fake tan. Also you have chlamydia now.
