McRibbed for his Pleasure.
Smut is somehow still on the menu.
Thank you to my in-laws for following me on my lil ol greasy substack. I’m about to make you regret it. 🙃
So where were we last time? Oh yeah, trapped in Colonel Sanders’ basement, Hamburglar showed up, let all the stink out, now I remember.
****************
A scowl crept across Ronald’s maple-glazed face. He could still smell [Filet-o-fish] on his upper lip. Wendy scurried behind her lover, pushing her heaving [hash browns] against his striated lats. He snaked a protective arm behind him so she knew McDaddy had everything under control.
“McDaddy has everything under control, my lil Frosty,” he stated valiantly, zapping any remaining moisture out of Wendy or the musty basement.
“Robble Robble” said the masked mercenary between gritted teeth. Wendy quizzically looked to Ronald, still unable to decipher the musings of the untimely interloper. The words slapped Ronald across his pallidly-painted-profile.
“My Hamburglar isn’t as good as it used to be, but I believe he just said ‘Your inclination to state the obvious is just one of many justifications I have for wanting your vacuos skull on a McSkewer.”
Hamburglar unfurled his rapier, jostling the unarmed Ronald from Wendy’s embrace.
Ronald held his ground against his former comrade and yelled “HAMILTON! Leave her out of this, your qualm is with me! Let her go, she doesn’t deserve to be punished for being foolish enough to love my clownery.”
A vile hiss escaped the Hamburglar’s upturned lip. “Robble!”
[“The love that you feel for this tawdry Lindsay Lohan replica is but a flash in the fry grease compared to what my fallen Grimace and I had. I curse Helios every daybreak as the sun creeps into my swollen eyes. Knowing that my betrothed is no longer on this abysmal marble spinning in space. I find no comfort in this world without his delightul presence and endless void of a stare. I will never lose myself in those plastic pools of pure bliss again. I used to lose myself in them, knowing they would be my only window to Elysium in this lifetime. Never truly realizing, til too late, that they would not be there forever.”]
Wendy screamed as Hamburglar took a bestial charge towards them with his blade aimed square at Ronald. The hate in his eyes thinly veiling the grief and loss he had endured, mourning the love he lost on that fateful day.
*cue flashback sequence*
The sun shone through the antique stained windows, left ajar to let the spring air waft into the newly renovated open concept kitchen. The neighbors to the lilac cape cod had grown accustomed to the rhythmic thumping during construction, but not the gutteral moans as Hamburglar heaved his turgid [discontinued coffee spoon stirrer] into Grimace’s steaming [McCafe Latte]. The hip-height granite countertops were not intended to aid in Hamburglar expertly jabbing at his lover’s throbbing [Hi-C] spot, but neither of them were complaining about the welcome surprise.
Grimace gently pushed Hamburglar away from his furry humps. The momentary seperation caused Hamilton to emit a low moan as his [Spicy Deluxe] audibly plopped out of Grimace’s glistening [McGriddle]. A string of [salt packets] dribbled out of Hamburglar’s [snack wrap] and sloshed onto the laminate floor beneath them. Grimace coyly looked over his shoulder and cooed, “I think I’m finally ready HamDaddy,” much to the Hamburglar’s delight. Grimace rolled over and scooted up on the counter, leaving his stunted furry legs in the air. Hamburglar didn’t need an engraved invitation to this all-you-can-eat brunch buffet. The masked marauder swooped down like an osprey diving for sardines. Expertly bathing grimace’s extra creamy [ceasar salad] with his own sweaty-salty saliva.
Often compared to Cyranno de Bergerac for his bulbously, protuberant nose, Hamburglar used his well-endowed proboscis like nature’s crowbar. Spreading Grimace’s [sesame seed buns] for the grand finale. Grimace bit his quivering lip and attempted to shut his large plastic eyes, painted in a forever open position with desire. He reached behind him and grabbed the jar of hamburger grease they had saved for such an occasion. Hamburglar came up for air, excitement and bussy juice emblazoned on his face. Grimace lifted his hips in the air in order to give Hamburglar opportune access to his overflowing [ball-pit], laying his head on the window sill so he could watch the show.
Hamburglar slid his hand into the lukewarm burger grease. The smell of tallow making all of their orifices trickle with moisture. He guided his glistening fingers towards Grimace’s welcoming [drive-thru] and slid his four fingers inside with little resistance. Grimace gave him a grateful gasp of pleasure as he bore down and willed his clenched [onion ring] to open sesame. Hamilton B. Urglar’s dead eyes twinkled with carnality as his enveloped knuckles gained entry into Grimace’s welcoming nether embrace. Hamburglar’s mind and fist dove into Grimace’s sopping wet jacuzzi of love. He could feel his lover’s heartbeat wrapped around his wrist like juvenile happy meal watch.
Grimace felt his body on the edge of eruption, throwing his purple head back in ecstasy. Hamilton’s hungry eyes rose to watch his soulmate’s gyrating, screaming climax. The red dot sight hovered on Hamburglar’s sweat-soaked mask. Grimace’s anguished and euphoric expression contorted into terror as he abruptly pushed off his elbows. The immediate need to warn his sordid lover of the impending danger was thwarted by the orgasmic waves rocking his momentarily intact brain.
Hamburglar gasped as a spray of love juice coated his overtaxed face with a wash of deep crimson. He opened his eyes to see an additional gaping hole in his once-living lover. The brain matter and blood dripped onto his quaking lip as his trained eye flew to the grassy knoll across their expansive property. He looked in stunned disbelief as the blazing red wig of his ex-confrére making his escape. Tears streamed down his freckled cheek as he looked into the crater of his penetrated, petrifying paramour. His hopes, his dreams, his only comfort now just a lifeless hand puppet conjoined to his arm.
Hamburglar blinked the pain away, replacing it with rage as he brought the sword edge to the pulsing jugular of his copper-topped nemesis. The commando-turned-assassin readied his lips to deliver his final musings to his foredoomed target, when the familiar step and click entered the tense space.
“Hamilton. I say-I say Hamilton-I do believe I said bring him back alive.” echoed the room, silencing Wendy’s sobs.
Colonel Sanders appeared, sauntering towards the two embraced in mortal combat. His white whiskers twitching on his upturned face.
“I’ll take it from here H...I’ve got plans for these two star-crossed lovers. Go fetch me another set of shackles.”
Passive-aggressively Yours,
Phrique
Chile...