affame_le_geant_two_down_now fyn gula it didn't take saumboo long to clean up king mal's wound, the cut was superficial and coagulated once the original blood was washed off his arm. queen mauvis, who finally recoverd from the heebie-jeebies of her fishy fiasco, pushed saumboo out of the way in obvious disrespect of his humble service. "get out of the way," she said, "you've done enough harm to the king already." her face was still a mess of smudged nightcream from where the catapulted goldie died on it. she looked like a clown wearing cheap make-up on a sweltering summer's day. saumboo was glad to steer clear of her presence. her morning breath was as foul as rotten cabbage forgotten in a lunchbox over winter break. besides, he was eager to rush to the orchard and survey the traumatic rape and pillage while the evidence was still fresh. he gathered up the rags he used to wipe the blood and made his way to the exit. "where do you think you're going, you little sneaker pimp?" the queen asked, her voice a strange combination of julia childs and martha stewart. she grabbed saumboo by the black tail of his tuxedo serving coat. "are you leaving king mal to die, you beastly ingrate?" she threw him a piercing gaze so sharp he could feel the pain in his eyes like an accidental squirt of shampoo. "i beg your pardon as always, queen mauvis," saumboo said, bowing. although he was fucking pissed. he had to kiss her big fat ass or he would be out on his own skinny one looking for a job. "king mal is fine, the cut is minor. he can be roused simply enough. he passed out, you see, because of what happened in the orchard and consequently bumped the fishbowl, cut his arm on the broken glass, the goldies flew up in the air and came down on you and..." "shut up!" the queen yelled. she wanted to forget about that little embarrassing moment in her history as soon as possible. "now what are you talking about, you little buzzard freak? what about the orchard?" she let go of his coat and seemed relieved, even if it was only a little, that the king wasn't dying. she had been down on one knee to see if he was breathing, quite an achievement in itself considering she weighed nearly 25o pounds. the effort to rise back to her feet was much harder to accomplish and she needed saumboo's help which of course he offered without being asked. saumboo was as skinny as a fucking scarecrow. so you can imagine the strength necessary for an exertion of this magnitude. he did it, though. go herc. queen mauvis huffed and puffed and straightened out her night gown. she swung her massive breasts like giant water balloons as she trudged over to the window overlooking the orchard. "holy fuck!" she gasped, and just like king mal collapsed with horror at the sight of the missing apple tree, so did queen mauvis. saumboo, who for one brief, unfortunate moment was looking down at king mal to see if the noise he heard was the sound of him coming to, did not see humpty dumpty falling off the wall. and down she came right on top of poor saumboo, pinning him to the floor with her tremendous weight. 020402 what's it to you? who go blather from