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Author Topic: Its always the dames that get you in deepest  (Read 8172 times)

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Its always the dames that get you in deepest
« on: July 28, 2014, 12:22:35 PM »
+41


It had been two weeks since my last case, and the ex wife has been burning up the phone lines lookin' for her cut. I was about to lock up when the knob turned. In walked a dame, and a bold one at that. Didn't even knock.

Bright red lipstick and sunken eyes. Ugly tattoos. Her bodice said hourglass, but the overflow said sundial. The only sand this broad was carrying around was in her strange. This bird had seen better days. "Scram", I told her, "I ain't crawling up and down alleys and gutters lookin' for same woman's runaway cat", I don't know if she smelled the booze on my breath, and at this point, I didn't care. She smirked. "It ain't a cat I'm interested in mister, its a bird."

I was tired, drunk, and in no mood for some broad's mindgames. I threw an empty bottle of hooch against the wall and the shatter didn't even break her eye contact. "A bird, mister. One that tweets." That was about all I could stomach. "I'm outta the tweet game, bitch. It got my partner killed. One cockeyed comment to a tranny otherkin, and he didn't stand a chance. They covered him like faggoty little fireants. He had a fuckin' family. Now GET OUT!"

I don't normally hit women, but this broad just brought it out of me. I slapped her across the jaw, and a dildo I didn't even know was there flew across my room and broke a window. I could smell the fetid scent of desperation from the streets outside. I slumped down in my chair and pulled out my zippo. She sat down across from me. Before I could light my own cigarette, she brought one of her own to her lips. My manners got the best of me and I lit it for her. As she exhaled, the smell of smokey semen filled my office.

"I think you'll take the case, mister. You're outta money and out of options."

I didn't have it in me to offer her another smack. It would waste a cigarette, and who knows how many more dildos she's got crammed in there like some sort of chimpmunk Kobiyashi magician. "Whats the case, and why is it worth my time."

"Some fella has been going around to all the speakeasies flapping his gums. He says that jokes about dames getting taken advantage of in a tizzy are just jokes. Thinks a man tellin' a few fresh one liners about touching a woman rough is just foolin'. I think different."

"You come down here and ask me to rough up some bum over your hurt feelings? I ain't no loan shark for your goddamn feelings."

"You won't be working alone, I got a fella from the Beta club working with you. Name's Caylen."

"What kind of fucking name is Caylen, didn't his mother love him?" I took a drag from my cigarette, which is the only kind of drag I like.

"Who knows, the doctor says she looked at his face and took up a habit after that." I didn't bother asking if it was hooch or Christ.

I followed her down to the alley where we met her guy. His shirt had more starch than a fucking potato. I didn't like the look of this. One. Damn. Bit.
« Last Edit: July 30, 2014, 08:09:39 PM by Agent of Aspieanoge »

Ghost of eloH

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Re: Its always the dames that get you in deepest
« Reply #1 on: July 28, 2014, 12:53:49 PM »
0
 :drew:  ra thread didn't read

Rocket

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Re: Its always the dames that get you in deepest
« Reply #2 on: July 28, 2014, 01:35:26 PM »
+3
There is no way you're not finishing this story.
Yes, that is me in court with my enormous penis.


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Re: Its always the dames that get you in deepest
« Reply #3 on: July 28, 2014, 02:19:14 PM »
+24


The only thing shadier than a man who can't look you in the eye is one who won't look away. "This is Caylen, mister. He is the only one who can I.D. the bastard, but he won't get his hands dirty. That's what I'm paying you for."

He extended a clammy fishhand and I declined. It was around this time I realize I hadn't even gotten this broads name. She didn't seem the type to want to give it up either. But her money's still good.

Caylen and I followed her down the late night street. Unusually empty for this time of night, but the odd barfly or bum was still to be found, beggin for hope n' change I s'pose. We entered the cafe on the corner and Caylen walked us up to a solid metal door, and he knocked on it. Well, knock is generous. He flailed his armfish at it until it made a sound. The Judas Hole slid up and a yellow eye looked out.

"Password?"

"...kjs500"

"...that password ain't been good for years. Get outta here ya mook."

It slammed shut, and the broad kicked Caylen as hard as she could in the shins. He started hoppin around on one foot like some faggot cartoon at the picture-shows. I'd have laughed if it didn't feel like my meal ticket just slammed shut on account of some limp wristed moron.

We were back out on the street and the broad wasn't having it. "YOU FUCKING IDIOT, HOW ARE WE GONNA GET THE GUY NOW?!" Caylen stammered "uhhh, uhh, I'll find him, don't worry, I'll find him, honest I will."

Just then a limo pulled up and the window rolled down a crack. "You Helen?"

"Yes."

"You lookin' for the big mouthed jokester?"

"Yeah, we are."

"Get in."

Before I climbed into the limo, I compulsively felt the firmness of the gun hidden in my coat pocket. It wasn't legal, but then, most of what I did wasn't.

When the door shut behind me, I couldn't believe it. It was Cryer. The old actor from those silent film reels about the two and a half stooges. You remember the ones. He was the one who was always gettin' hit with pies and steel beams while the other fellah got the dames and the kid pointed and laughed. That was usually the only laughing going on during that show, but I ain't no critic.

"I heard about the guy. I know where he is now, but I still need your stoolie to point him out. I'm gonna ring his bell, get my face in the papers, and get me some headliner work for once. I ain't nobody's clown, you hear?"

Helen said "I don't care who shuts him up, as long as it gets done."

The limo pulled up to a house out in the suburbs. Some sorta McMansion says I. Buncha upper crusties having a party. Trailing behind kid showbiz we got right in no problem. The bouncer almost didn't let Caylen in on account of his shirt. Said it might cut somebody. Cryer shot the guy a stinkeye and he slammed his hole shut.

Not two minutes later Caylen points his fishhand and says "THATS THE GUY!" My payment depended on catching him before Hollywood did, so I wiped my kerchief across Caylen's hand and slapped it across the actor's face. It made a snap like a goon bellyflop, and he was on the ground Crying like his name.

I shot after the guy, jumping fences and hedges. I finally caught him in a dark dead-end. He had nowhere to go. I grabbed him by the scruff and prepared to knock his lights out, when the headlights of a cop car blinded us both.

"LET THE KID GO!"

I turned and looked. This wasn't no man. This was a 12. Year. Old. Kid.

I held my hand up to shield my eyes, and who did I see getting cuffed, but Caylen. Right next to xim, crying crocodile tears was the broad. We were set up.

"Alright wise guy, you're under arrest on three counts of privilege."

This was gonna be a long night.
« Last Edit: July 30, 2014, 03:11:54 PM by Agent of Aspieanoge »

Rocket

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Re: Its always the dames that get you in deepest
« Reply #4 on: July 28, 2014, 02:25:12 PM »
+1
What this story needs is a lawyer.

Heh heh.
Yes, that is me in court with my enormous penis.


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Re: Its always the dames that get you in deepest
« Reply #5 on: July 28, 2014, 02:26:06 PM »
+2
What this story needs is a lawyer.

Heh heh.

I was already gonna write you in ya faggot.  :colbert:

Dental Grade Dildo

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Re: Its always the dames that get you in deepest
« Reply #6 on: July 28, 2014, 02:29:23 PM »
+8
Upvoted, would buy at an airport bookstore.

Black Gardener

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Re: Its always the dames that get you in deepest
« Reply #7 on: July 28, 2014, 03:10:02 PM »
+1
Good stuff.  Would review on Amazon for no less than $5.

SooperPooper

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Re: Its always the dames that get you in deepest
« Reply #8 on: July 28, 2014, 03:50:22 PM »
0
"he was on the ground Crying like his name."

 :reagan:

Would buy on amazon
rofl I have a sig

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Re: Its always the dames that get you in deepest
« Reply #9 on: July 28, 2014, 03:57:49 PM »
0
Not in, still upvoted. :nixon:

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Re: Its always the dames that get you in deepest
« Reply #10 on: July 28, 2014, 05:00:34 PM »
+22


I sat in the interrogation room, a place I was not entirely unfamiliar with, waiting for the screws to come in and chimp out. Why else would they have handcuffed me to a chair in a room I was already locked in? Faggots hate a fair fight.

As sobriety crept in to my skull, I was parched and irritable. I heard the door open and in walked the only person I was less happy to see than a cop. My cis scumbag lawyer, Rocket. We called him that because he was always readin' those sci fi comics for children. Goonin' on and on about little green men. How he managed to eke out a degree from a tier 7 ambulance chaser university, I have no idea.

He brushed his comb-over and pulled up a chair. "Good news. They can't press charges, since you didn't actually hit the kid, and the kid is a orphan, so there ain't no parents to come throw a monkey wrench into the gears. You're getting out scot free. Well, minus my usual retainer."

I gotta hand it to the greaseball, he usually had enough left over to squeeze me out of a jam. I told him if he wanted his money he needed to help me figure out why this dildame went to all the trouble to frame up some kid who oughta be shootin' marbles at the soda fountain. He knew one guy who might have the answer.

I drove up to his house just as the sun was rising. My need for some shuteye was second to my need for answers, and if this man didn't have the latter, I was gonna forcibly give him the former.

The door opened slowly and there he stood. This was not my day for pleasant smells, and the breeze coming out of this house was no exception.

"I'm looking for Ozma."

"You found her."

"Real funny, toughguy. Say, listen up and listen good. I need to know why some stoolie named Caylen and some dame called Helen wanted a patsy to take out a kid. Talk or I'm gonna force-feed you one of those cats."

"Listen, I'm Ozma, and I'm actually a woman. I can help you wi-"

"CUT THE WISE CRACKS, MACK. THE KID. HELEN. TALK!!!"

"Please stop calling me a man, its hurtful and I already have self esteem issues wit-"

"I'M NOT IN THE MOOD FOR YOUR ABBOT AND COSTELLO 'WHO'S ON XIRST' ROUTINE, CHARLIEBOY! I WANT INFORMATION."

"L..listen, I am about to cry. Please, stop calling me a man. Its already difficult enough looking like this without your shame and comments. Everywhere I go people look at me with disgust. I can barely look at myself in the mirror. My boyfriend is actually gay and just 'dates' me for a free place to stay. All I really want is some honest compassion and caring, just a simple smile and warm greeting from someone. You don't know what its like being me. A woman with no feminine charm. No beauty. Nobody actually loving me."

"...alright mister, that one was pretty funny, but I still need the info."

"..."

*hysterical sobbing*

Well, this guy isn't any use. Better get a solid 8 and go pound the pavement.
« Last Edit: July 28, 2014, 10:14:43 PM by Agent of Aspieanoge »

Dog-O-Tron 5000v4.0

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Re: Its always the dames that get you in deepest
« Reply #11 on: July 28, 2014, 06:02:30 PM »
+3
:clappo:

I regret that I have but one upvote to give to these posts.

Rocket

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Re: Its always the dames that get you in deepest
« Reply #12 on: July 28, 2014, 10:08:56 PM »
+1
Beautiful.
Yes, that is me in court with my enormous penis.


Ghostse

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Re: Its always the dames that get you in deepest
« Reply #13 on: July 29, 2014, 02:39:03 AM »
+2
tl;dr

But going to when its not bed time. Ground fucking floor.
Let me know when the next SASS spinoff starts.

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Re: Its always the dames that get you in deepest
« Reply #14 on: July 29, 2014, 10:29:54 AM »
+11


Funny thing about sleeping all day and waking at sundown - you get to have booze for breakfast and nobody bats an eye. But today I needed my senses. I was gonna get to the bottom of this.

Drove my beater down to the gook part of town to talk to my informant. I headed into the massage parlor and straight back to Megan's room. She was with a client, and he didn't take kindly to my intrusion.

"WOTS ALL DIS DEN, GUV'NAH?! A man con't get a propa' tug fo' fiddy quid wifout some bloke sneakin' in what ta have a looksie?"

His pants were a crumpled pile on the floor. I leaned down to grab his wallet, and it was as thick as a phone book. I opened it to get his ID, and about fifty pictures of some dame on the beach in white fell out. The cat on the table started to cry and ran out, leaving his wallet behind. I didn't bother chasing him to return it. There wasn't even any cash or cards, just endless beach pictures. Some of them smelled of lotion. I turned to Megan and the room filled with shrill shrieks.

"YOU CHASE AWAY CRIENT! YOU PAY! TUG FEE YOU PAY MISTAH DETECTIVE! YOU PAY TUGTUG BOOM COST MANY WAMPUM!"

Why her 9 year old daughter was in the room and yelling at me like that I have no idea.

"Megan, I need some deets."

"Yeah, I know what you're snooping around for, gumshoe. Its all over town, and you aren't the only one looking for Helen. Caylen posted bail and he's lighting up everyone's phone line looking for leads. She's got half of Troontown looking for her, nobody's seen a thing. But if you really want answers, I'd go there."

Just as she finished her sentence, I exploded all over the floor. She works quick, I'll give her that. Efficient too. Had me zipped back up before I could reach my wallet. I tossed her a couple thousand yen and headed back to my wheels.

Something just wasn't adding up here. Why frame up a kid? Why all the tweets? Whats Caylen's endgame here?

I went down to the QCS club to wet my whistle, and I heard some commotion in the alley to the left. Look back there and Black Baby Goku is kicking the shit out of Caylen, yelling something about NO MODS NO KINGS. I figure I'll let him work out his aggression while I get some coffee and come back.

A spotlight hits the stage as I walked in. A hot trumpet lick rips through the room, and out walks a bearded man with a wig in a dress that fit as well as a glove stretched over a cactus.

The troon hobbled awkwardly to the microphone backed up by some cat on the ivories, I recognize the tune. That old jazz tune "Hey Pete, Lets Eat Mo' Meat".

Never was a fan of that one.

This gender-blended disaster tugged awkwardly at the bulge in his pants, and then leaned in to the mic and belts out "HEY RICH, LETS SUCK MO' FEET!" and is instantly thrown a garland of roses from some guy in the front row. I turn to a waitress and ask whats going on. "Oh thats Richard. He never misses a night Shmorky performs."

I scan the room for anyone who might have a clue and come up empty. I turn to the stage and Richard is slobbering all over a grown mans toes. I suddenly lose interest in my coffee and head back out into the alley.

Caylen is all bloodied and bruised against a pile of trash. I don't even have to intimidate him. "I'll tell you everything" he says in an exasperated sigh.

"That kid ain't no orphan. We were had. She wanted to take him hostage."

"Hostage?! For what?"

"Don't you get it flatfoot? Whats the biggest industry in this town?"

"Bad front page articles?"

"Bigger."

"Shitty EPG books nobody reads?"

"Bigger."

"Dresses made to fit six foot obese men?"

"Bigger. That kid is heir to the Mangosteen Fortune. And we let him slip right through our fingers. If she finds him before we do, we're all dead."
« Last Edit: July 29, 2014, 06:55:15 PM by Agent of Aspieanoge »

IHaveNoMouthAndIMustSteen

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Re: Its always the dames that get you in deepest
« Reply #15 on: July 29, 2014, 10:35:08 AM »
0
Not in, still gave +1. Would give favorable mention on my mommy blog.

 :draper:

Rocket

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Re: Its always the dames that get you in deepest
« Reply #16 on: July 29, 2014, 11:03:48 AM »
+5
Best thread on the internet.
Yes, that is me in court with my enormous penis.


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Re: Its always the dames that get you in deepest
« Reply #17 on: July 29, 2014, 06:10:27 PM »
+11


The trail of information led me out to an abandoned mangosteen farm on the edge of town. Cracks of lightning overhead silhouetted the looming silos and barns. It was just past sundown but it may as well have been midnight for all the darkness. Wolves howled in the distance. A part of me wanted to go back and just tip off the feds. The other part of me thought that part was a coward.

I crept around the first barn with my gun drawn. My bright yellow sailor hat was not exactly making me feel incognito, but it was the only practical thing to wear in a storm now that fedoras had been outlawed. I reached up to try the door....no good. Locked from the inside. I could crawl up to the window, but I just didn't have the patience. I was never the kind of kid who knew how many licks it took to get to the center of anything before biting. This makes for some messy cunnilingus.

Steeling myself, I kicked the door open and stormed in. Nobody was here. I was about to holster my weapon when a smell tickled my nose. A pungent, somewhat squid like smell...I have smelled this be-

THE BROAD WITH THE SEMEN BREATH!

There was just enough time to duck down as a massive wooden dildobat was swung horizontally in the space my head almost was. I rolled forward and turned around, weapon drawn. I didn't have time to speak before she was on me again, swinging wildly and shrieking.

A boot to the cunt bought me enough time and space to assess the situation. The broad was here and knew I was coming. The clues could have been plants. The kid could be anywhere.

She got back up and swung the dildo hard, missing by inches. A sizable chunk of a wooden ladder cracked and split, sending splinters everywhere. I reached out and grabbed the handle of the dildo and we struggled. How...how was she so strong?!

A well placed head-butt sent the wig flying and I had my answer. She was a troon all along. A fairly passable one, but a troon nonetheless. I drew my gun and was about to fire, when she belched a cloud of sperm-scent in my face and knocked me down. As she stood over me, she kicked the gun out of reach, and raised the massive oak phallus overhead. She was about to deal the final blow when a bullet flew through her head and she collapsed on the floor.

The fresh crack of lightning answered my question before I could ask. Who had saved me. It was Caylen. I was about to thank him when I realized he didn't even know or care I was there. He straddled her lifeless body and pawed frantically at her tits.

"I WAS A NICE GUY! I HELD OPEN DOORS AND PULLED OUT CHAIRS! I TOLD YOU WHEN YOU LOOKED PRETTY! I BOUGHT THINGS FROM YOUR AMAZON WISH LIST! I BANNED AND PROBATED HUNDREDS FOR YOU, AND ALL I WANTED WAS A CHANCE TO FONDLE YOUR TRANSBEWBS BUT ONE TIME! JUST SOMETHING TO FUEL MY FANTASIES! ALL I WANTED...all I wanted...*sob*...I just wanted...to...*sob sob*...administrate. All. I wanted.


....


....mother."


He was rocking and crying in the corner. Now, I'm not one to kick a man when he's down, but this ain't no man. I planted my boot to the back of his head, smashing it into the brittle barn wood. His face was completely mangled. Luckily, the tranny and I had the same size 13 boots on, so she'd get the wrap. I was out of this clean. And Alive.

The walk back to my car was a slow one, even in the rain and mud. I was forgetting something. I was leaving something behind. This wasn't right. I'm hardly a moral man, but something was...off.

I forced myself to walk up to the farm house and crept around, looking in windows. There were a few lanterns lit, so someone was in there. When I got to the kitchen, I saw it. The kid was tied to a chair, bound and gagged. He had a few bruises and a real shiner on his left eye. Someone roughed him up.

I heard a door open and dove into the hedge. Luckily, the door had nothing to do with me. I saw a figure moving in the house. A large, bulbous figure. A sentient lava lamp.

As I was crouched looking in, I strained my eyes to try to find a clue. Something, anything to tell me who had the kid and what I might be dealing with.

Lightning struck again.

A  bright reflection from the man's chest hit my eye.

A starfleet pin.
« Last Edit: July 29, 2014, 06:38:02 PM by Agent of Aspieanoge »

Black Gardener

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Re: Its always the dames that get you in deepest
« Reply #18 on: July 29, 2014, 06:47:55 PM »
+1
 :stewart:

Can't wait for the exciting conclusion!

Ghost of eloH

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Re: Its always the dames that get you in deepest
« Reply #19 on: July 29, 2014, 11:13:53 PM »
0
"WOTS ALL DIS DEN, GUV'NAH?! A man con't get a propa' tug fo' fiddy quid wifout some bloke sneakin' in what ta have a looksie?"

its like im todally in londonshite

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Re: Its always the dames that get you in deepest
« Reply #20 on: July 30, 2014, 10:33:36 AM »
+6


I couldn't believe it. He was alive. The Nadhandler. Aaron Patrick Nadler. Sick sonofabitch has fondled his way up and down the streets of this city since I was in Westpoint.

Rumor had it that parents got sick of his perversions and barricaded him in his hut and lit all his star trek shit on fire. He was said to have perished in the flames. But here he was, rummaging through the kitchen cupboards looking for god knows what, next to a frightened little kid. The dame hadn't cared about the kid at all, she just wanted the payoff.

My hands trembling, I slid my gun out to find only one bullet left in the cylinder. I was gonna have to make this count. Nadhandler had a butcher knife in his hand, and if he senses the slightest thing was wrong, the kid's throat was gonna open like McCaine's asshole at a Cuck-e-Cheeze.

I began to weigh my options. I could try to slide the window up and sneak in when he left the room, but I couldn't count on the kid not freaking out and tipping him off. I could kick open the front door, but I had no idea where Nadhandler would be. If he got to the kid before I did, we'd have a mexican standoff, and I was getting the shakes too bad to shoot a butcher knife out of his hand. I could climb up the drainpipes to a second story window, but goddammit, I just didn't care enough to do that.

Boredom began to take hold, and I pulled out my phone to play some angry birds. The first few levels went smoothly, but then some devious abomination was put before me. I had only three red birds and one black bomber, and somehow I was supposed to kill SEVEN large pigs, one of whom was beneath two layers of concrete. I suppose I could try to hit one of the layers in the corner and knock the layers off, but if I missed, I'd have to restart, and I heard that can affect whether or not you get certain trophies. I really, really wanted those trophies.

While I was lining up my shot, the phone buzzed in my hand. I nearly had a heart attack. It was a text message from my brother. It said "Fwd:fwd:fwd:FWD:I looked out my window to get a view of the lake, but dammit, I can barely see it!" Attached was a picture taken through a window with a view of the lake obscured by several topless women with huge titties. I smiled.

Okay, back to angry birds. I won't bore you with the details, but I managed to pass the level just barely. I saved my progress and put my phone away.

What to do about Nadhandler.

It was then I realized the perfect plan. I casually walked up to a screen door on the side, opened it, walk through the kitchen (slapping the kid on the head as I walked past, just for funsies) and confronted Nadler in the living room. He was about to take his pants off to mount a set of star trek dolls he had melted down into a crude fleshlight and glued into the wall. I flicked him really hard behind the ears, and when he turned around, I gave him two violent titty twisters. He fell to the ground in agony. I proceeded to create the pinkest belly you ever saw. Then I shot him point blank in the temple.

I walked to the kitchen and freed the kid. We both walked through the mud back to my car in silent gratitude. As the kid climbed in, I turned on the ignition, and he pulled at my sleeve.

"Hey, mister."

"Yeah kid?"

"...rape jokes can be pretty fuckin' funny."

"...you said it kid."

I tussled his hair and drove him back to the orphanage. Or his parents house or wherever, I don't care. Make up your own backstory.

Anyways, I got home, got drunk, and played vidya games. Tomorrow was a new day.










EPILOGUE:

You came over to my office the next evening. You knocked on my door, came in, and slammed a thick file on my desk. "You've got a new case, and we're working this together", you said. I wasn't sure I was ready for a new partner, but I just like you so much, and we work together so well. You and I both head out into the night. Adventures await.
« Last Edit: July 30, 2014, 01:36:59 PM by Agent of Aspieanoge »

VFW

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Re: Its always the dames that get you in deepest
« Reply #21 on: July 30, 2014, 11:41:11 AM »
+2
Valhalla awaits ye, noble story-teller  :reagan:

Rocket

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Re: Its always the dames that get you in deepest
« Reply #22 on: July 30, 2014, 11:57:26 AM »
+2
In the end I knew you were talking about me because I'm the cool guy around here. So thanks for that!



AAAAAAAAAAAAAA++++++++++++++ would masturbate to again. Solid writing skills, fast delivery.
Yes, that is me in court with my enormous penis.


Hugh Woattmeigh

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Re: Its always the dames that get you in deepest
« Reply #23 on: July 30, 2014, 11:59:08 AM »
+2
Quality stuff.  :nixon:

Pleasant Rectal Itch

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Re: Its always the dames that get you in deepest
« Reply #24 on: July 30, 2014, 01:38:31 PM »
+2
 :dubyathumb: :clappo:

Entertaining and nicely written.