Posted at 9:45 pm on Oct 22, 2016 by:
Red Spyder (Guardian of Wickedness)
'Bizarre' is putting it a bit mildly I think! (SICK)
Red was more than ready to accept the spirit's terms, nodding.
"DUDE!" Darkspade said, slamming his fists down on the table this time, flattening the remaining broken pieces of Crayon. "MY! CAREER!"
Red looked back at Spade. He'd never heard the Unholy One sound so desperate about anything and while he never would have admitted it, he felt a little bad for Spade. Losing your title as the result of losing a match was one thing. Willingly destroying your title because a spirit they'd just met said to was something else entirely. The title's strange power and its grasp on the very soul of its holder didn't help matters.
"Just tell Alex the title went missing due to circumstances beyond your control! Then he'll take care of getting a new title made for you, right?" Red said, Spade seeming to only get more frustrated at the idea of the boss neither of them got along with acting so generous and understanding. "Look, what's more important to you: your status in CW or your family? You might hate my love for Angel, but I know you care about her still and I'm pretty sure you care about our child too."
"SUCH INTERESTING QUESTIONS. WHAT WILL IT BE THEN, DARKSPADE?"
For not the first time since arriving in 2030, Alex felt nauseous. All the poop, crabs, pooped out crabs, and cum was too much and with Chane and Staphanie, it seemed to have no end. He had to look away when Botch violently shoved his fist up the chicken's ass before shoving the chicken's head up Staph's ass. That's when Botch spotted Chane and removed a blood and shit-covered fist from the chicken before approaching the 'King'.
"HUH? WHACK OFF YOUR ABSOLUTE VODKA BELCH AND FUCK ME!" Botch said, spitting crabs into Chane's face. Chane didn't mind the crabs, rubbing his tongue around his lips to taste them. "YOU PROMMED ME I'D BE THE CHUMP IF I HELD YOU AND I WANK IT NOW!"
Chane looked down at the cum-stained Absolute Vodka Universal Combat Championship around his waist, his giant, aroused cock poking through a specially designed hole built into the belt's front plate.
"Botch, it's so good to see you!" Chane said as he looked back up, ignoring Botch's demand and giving him a hug instead.
Botch forgot that he wanted to fight Chane and hugged him back, his hands reached down to squeeze Chane's hairy ass. The broke their hug only when they heard a squeal behind Chane. Looking to see what was happening, they found Staphanie standing in front of the Donald Grump statue, its hand not just grabbing her pussy but fisting her pussy, forcing her to squirt crab juice all over the hand and floor at its feet. The chicken, dead and still jammed up her ass, flopped around like it was her tail.
"I'm surprised you don't have Donald Grump himself here to take care of your pussy grabbing needs," Alex said, realizing he was almost stepping on a petrified tissue and quickly moved away from it.
"Well, after I told Donald he could no longer be President of the United States because I was taking over, he got mad and tried to fight back!" Chane said, shaking his head in disbelief that anyone, especially Grump, would challenge his insane plans. "So we called up Hilary Cliton and she was more than happy to pull some strings to have him killed like everyone else who pissed her off! Of course, we had to kill her too then. What's best for business, right?"
Opening his arms, Chane approached Alex for a hug as well. At the same time, Botch remembered why he wanted to see Chane and grabbed at the Absolute Vodka Universal Combat Championship. The belt easily came free, along with Chane's penis. Botch let out a "HUH?" as he held the belt up, staring at Chane's apparently plastic, fake cock as a drop of cum fell from the tip into his open mouth. Both Alex and Chane looked down at Chane's crotch to see Chane's real penis, a shriveled, blistered mess that would possibly even have disgusted Lilith.
