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| Catherine de' Medici at the gates of the Louvre |
If you asked me today how the hell I got mixed up in all this bullshit, I couldn't pretend to tell you. Paris back then was a different place, you know? No sweet stanky inky pinky doodoo nonos littering the streets. No turkish prosts to pee into. No warm fucking baguette syrup squeegee for the sperm Tupperware. It was dangerous. I mean, every fucker seemed to be on edge and rightfully so. There was this real big wedding taking place earlier in the week and all these assholes WERE at one another's throats. The Huguenot's who were Calvinist Protestants, hated Catholics like penis on a platter in a kindergarten class. Paris was a violently anti-Huguenot city, and Parisians, who were extreme Catholics, found their presence in the city unacceptable. Even if I cornholed the king during the bachelor party...and his moist ostler faggot.
a FEW DAYS prior my fucked up tale, I took a pop shot at Coligny. Admiral Gaspard II de Coligny was the Huguenot leader. This dink couldn't hold his liquor for shit and was really annoying. Anyway he was in town for the wedding and Cathy wanted Coligny dead and I don't mean from old age. The hit was in exchange for some sweating cocaine. So I took the deal. Coligny took it like the fag that he was and I blamed it on some turgid asshole NAMED cHUCK. I had been drinking. When I took the shit, I mean shot, it was a glance shot and ricocheted off this fucking gargoyle statue and ended up severing Coligny's right index finger. I began to shout from frustration but released a sopping wet belch instead. All these idiots went scrambling around and screaming their heads off like retards in a harry potter gift shop. "Stop that man!" someone cried so I bolted from this fucking villa thing and my stupid pumpkin breeches are around my ankles so I fell on my fucking FACE. FUCK. I screamed out "JUMANJI!!" and lay waste to the crowd with a volley of skin-crawling flatulence, then I disappeared into the back alleys that snaked the city like cum from a chip and dale creamery.
Medici was pissed. Nana cooze. I called her Cathy and that pissed her off something awful. Lol. She was a real conniving cunt and loved LOVED blowing smoldering farts in the tub the would make your cheeks balloon with puke if you weren't careful. Cathy was a Medici and if you don't know the Medici's then you don't know your history. They're pretty much the Bilderberg Group. Well she's hollering and whooping up a storm and has my cravat by a claw, when I suddenly blurt out "Where's mom? Is dad at the factory?" SHe stopped shouting and furrowed her gnarly brow, then said, "Whut." To which I replied, "Where's my mother and father?" Cathy seemed intrigued. "Whut." She said again. When I sensed curiosity I darted from her weakening grasp. She was beyond startled. "Wait, where are you going?!" Bounding down the stone breezeway, shoeless, pantless and hard, I bellowed over my shoulder, "TO FIND MY PARENTS!!" I didn't go back to Cathy's sweet womb ever again after that night, but what ensued thereafter was some sexy, fucked up dogshit let me tell you.
This is the night of 23–24, August, 1572.
WOOOOO!! WOOOOOHOOOOOO!!!! I'm screaming my fucking head off, hanging from some god damned stone gutter thing about three stories in the air, pissing all over these helmeted dongles running asunder, murdering every Protestant in sight. Man I was having a good time. Smoke and blood were in the air. There was vomit, shit and guts in the streets and women and children burning alive in piles the size of my dick flanking the fair city of lights. It was my kind of party. AND ALL on the eve of the feast of St. Bartholomew. It was, after all, the Anglican Communion and I loved me some sacramental wine and giblets. So I am literally hanging from the rafters and hollering and hooting and shit and the whole fucking city is going nuts. So I decided it was time to go and find that ssstinky fishSTICK, Coligny and finish him off. Maybe deepthroat him. Well the duganberry was holed up in this little palace shack with his hurt lil finger and bum bum. The king was kind enough to offer me a legion of his swiss guard (bunch of tight wearing motherfuckers) and we headed over to Coligny's sex pad through the chaos. It was beautiful.
So we burst in through this mammoth door and I'm screaming, "WHO THE FUCK INSTALLED THIS GOD DAMN THING?? SOMEONE COULD GET HURT!" because I hurt my nono sacks on the knob because I was thrusting so hard to bang it down. Everyone was so bewildered at my craziness and there was this weird pause in the battle as they stared at me, so I just started murdering fools with my shit stained mace. Coligny was still in bed, and he was calling out to his guards to "Sieze them!" but he was also crying like a little bitch. I bounded over this frobble of a man who was in a ball, whimpering in a puddle of his own puke, and onto the bed where I sang, "I PROCLAIM THIS BED MY FUCK TOWN." Then I thrust my dagger into Coligny's breast while reciting lines from the "Air Force One" script through my teeth. Coligny squeezed his eyes in pain and his lower lip shuddered like a running lawnmower. I came. All around me there was sword play and death as the king's men took out the Huguenots in the room. A torrid leak of smelt was making its way from my ass crack and causing some real terrible smells, so I wrested the Admiral from his bloodstained bed and declared, "COLIGNY NOW BELONGS TO MY SEXUAL PLANTAIN." Then I chucked the dying man from the two story window and into the streets below where he was summarily beheaded by an angry mob of catholics. My duty was done. It was time to collect my reward. "SWEEEEEET CHEWY!!" I began to scream. The kings men had had enough of me. They cleaned off their bloodied swords and left the room shaking their heads. I hurriedly crawled from the room, whinnying like a mad horse and they quickly got out of my way.
For the next week, I spent my time in delirium, bludgeoning to death anything and everyone with my hong kong bingo pole. It was a wild haze. I tried so hard to make my way back to Cathy for my sweet sweet chewy, but I simply could not make it through all that shit. In the end, the St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre took the lives of some 5,000 protestants. All because Cathy wanted just a lil extra power so she convinced the KING to strike first before the Huggernuts attacked because I had tried to kill Coligny but I did anyway and this fucking mouse of a king was good with it so he did it even though they were friends or lovers or something. One night while I was ENOYING a poopoo platter buffet from her warty vagina, she told me in detail how she wanted to rule the world. I recall spinning violently and ripping a real horrible fart into her open piss cave. I filled her up so much that shit clouds were puffing out of her ears. We held each other into the night. Well, she thought she was holding me. Once she passed out I snuck out and shoved a dead AND ROTTING marsupial into her arms so I could get loaded at the local transvestite club. Came to about a year later missing one of my arms, neck deep in horse urine behind some food cart on the beach in St. Tropaz.
a FEW DAYS prior my fucked up tale, I took a pop shot at Coligny. Admiral Gaspard II de Coligny was the Huguenot leader. This dink couldn't hold his liquor for shit and was really annoying. Anyway he was in town for the wedding and Cathy wanted Coligny dead and I don't mean from old age. The hit was in exchange for some sweating cocaine. So I took the deal. Coligny took it like the fag that he was and I blamed it on some turgid asshole NAMED cHUCK. I had been drinking. When I took the shit, I mean shot, it was a glance shot and ricocheted off this fucking gargoyle statue and ended up severing Coligny's right index finger. I began to shout from frustration but released a sopping wet belch instead. All these idiots went scrambling around and screaming their heads off like retards in a harry potter gift shop. "Stop that man!" someone cried so I bolted from this fucking villa thing and my stupid pumpkin breeches are around my ankles so I fell on my fucking FACE. FUCK. I screamed out "JUMANJI!!" and lay waste to the crowd with a volley of skin-crawling flatulence, then I disappeared into the back alleys that snaked the city like cum from a chip and dale creamery.
Medici was pissed. Nana cooze. I called her Cathy and that pissed her off something awful. Lol. She was a real conniving cunt and loved LOVED blowing smoldering farts in the tub the would make your cheeks balloon with puke if you weren't careful. Cathy was a Medici and if you don't know the Medici's then you don't know your history. They're pretty much the Bilderberg Group. Well she's hollering and whooping up a storm and has my cravat by a claw, when I suddenly blurt out "Where's mom? Is dad at the factory?" SHe stopped shouting and furrowed her gnarly brow, then said, "Whut." To which I replied, "Where's my mother and father?" Cathy seemed intrigued. "Whut." She said again. When I sensed curiosity I darted from her weakening grasp. She was beyond startled. "Wait, where are you going?!" Bounding down the stone breezeway, shoeless, pantless and hard, I bellowed over my shoulder, "TO FIND MY PARENTS!!" I didn't go back to Cathy's sweet womb ever again after that night, but what ensued thereafter was some sexy, fucked up dogshit let me tell you.
This is the night of 23–24, August, 1572.
WOOOOO!! WOOOOOHOOOOOO!!!! I'm screaming my fucking head off, hanging from some god damned stone gutter thing about three stories in the air, pissing all over these helmeted dongles running asunder, murdering every Protestant in sight. Man I was having a good time. Smoke and blood were in the air. There was vomit, shit and guts in the streets and women and children burning alive in piles the size of my dick flanking the fair city of lights. It was my kind of party. AND ALL on the eve of the feast of St. Bartholomew. It was, after all, the Anglican Communion and I loved me some sacramental wine and giblets. So I am literally hanging from the rafters and hollering and hooting and shit and the whole fucking city is going nuts. So I decided it was time to go and find that ssstinky fishSTICK, Coligny and finish him off. Maybe deepthroat him. Well the duganberry was holed up in this little palace shack with his hurt lil finger and bum bum. The king was kind enough to offer me a legion of his swiss guard (bunch of tight wearing motherfuckers) and we headed over to Coligny's sex pad through the chaos. It was beautiful.
So we burst in through this mammoth door and I'm screaming, "WHO THE FUCK INSTALLED THIS GOD DAMN THING?? SOMEONE COULD GET HURT!" because I hurt my nono sacks on the knob because I was thrusting so hard to bang it down. Everyone was so bewildered at my craziness and there was this weird pause in the battle as they stared at me, so I just started murdering fools with my shit stained mace. Coligny was still in bed, and he was calling out to his guards to "Sieze them!" but he was also crying like a little bitch. I bounded over this frobble of a man who was in a ball, whimpering in a puddle of his own puke, and onto the bed where I sang, "I PROCLAIM THIS BED MY FUCK TOWN." Then I thrust my dagger into Coligny's breast while reciting lines from the "Air Force One" script through my teeth. Coligny squeezed his eyes in pain and his lower lip shuddered like a running lawnmower. I came. All around me there was sword play and death as the king's men took out the Huguenots in the room. A torrid leak of smelt was making its way from my ass crack and causing some real terrible smells, so I wrested the Admiral from his bloodstained bed and declared, "COLIGNY NOW BELONGS TO MY SEXUAL PLANTAIN." Then I chucked the dying man from the two story window and into the streets below where he was summarily beheaded by an angry mob of catholics. My duty was done. It was time to collect my reward. "SWEEEEEET CHEWY!!" I began to scream. The kings men had had enough of me. They cleaned off their bloodied swords and left the room shaking their heads. I hurriedly crawled from the room, whinnying like a mad horse and they quickly got out of my way.
For the next week, I spent my time in delirium, bludgeoning to death anything and everyone with my hong kong bingo pole. It was a wild haze. I tried so hard to make my way back to Cathy for my sweet sweet chewy, but I simply could not make it through all that shit. In the end, the St. Bartholomew's Day Massacre took the lives of some 5,000 protestants. All because Cathy wanted just a lil extra power so she convinced the KING to strike first before the Huggernuts attacked because I had tried to kill Coligny but I did anyway and this fucking mouse of a king was good with it so he did it even though they were friends or lovers or something. One night while I was ENOYING a poopoo platter buffet from her warty vagina, she told me in detail how she wanted to rule the world. I recall spinning violently and ripping a real horrible fart into her open piss cave. I filled her up so much that shit clouds were puffing out of her ears. We held each other into the night. Well, she thought she was holding me. Once she passed out I snuck out and shoved a dead AND ROTTING marsupial into her arms so I could get loaded at the local transvestite club. Came to about a year later missing one of my arms, neck deep in horse urine behind some food cart on the beach in St. Tropaz.