No.3106
Pepe sat in silence, performing his daily meditation. GOD, he was so FUCKING handsome.
The phone rang, interrupting his thoughts. He quickly answered.
"Hello, is this the National Kiss Starvation Prevention Lifeline?" said the caller, obviously a woman.
"Why the FUCK did you just ask me that, little BITCH!?" growled Pepe. "Didn't you READ the FUCKING leaflet? Learn ENGLISH, FUCKING WENCH."
"W-what?! I thought you were here to help! M-my name's Soy-tan, and my husband, Nate has never kissed me, even though we've been married for–"
"Shut the FUCK UP. BOOM."
"Please, I need help! I don't think I'll last much longer–"
"SILENCE, SOYCUCK," commanded Pepe. "Cease thy filthy canid blathering, and return to thy kennel, with nary a remonstration, or face the fullness of your master's GODLIKE WRATH."
"W-what kind of lunatic are you!? Can't you see I need help!?"
"What the FUCK did you just say to your MOST SUPERIOR master, you disgusting, drooling, subhuman soycanine? You dare? You fucking DARE open your spittle-laden floppy muzzle and espouse such inordinate, contumacious, vitriolic utterances in the presence of your DIVINE and GODLIKE master?"
"This is ridiculous!" Soy-tan shrieked.
"CONCESSION ACCEPTED, dog," laughed Pepe. "Perhaps next time you'll THINK before toying with the Alpha of Amphibians, the Brute of Baiting, the Cultivator of Croaking, the Duke of Domination, the Emperor of Eating-Flies–
Soy-tan died of Kiss Starvation the next day.
No.3126
powerful