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| KAWAII YO by Zsenipoo 11/20/2007, 9:34am PST | ||||
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Fussbett wrote: Oh my god, it's like I've woken up to a beautiful dreamland where WHAT THEY ARE TINY SKINNY WHATS?! Anyways, this is very funny. I love especially the bit about the miniskirt and ballet shoes - revealing.... without being sexy! Rather than go on a tirade about how incredibly woman-hating Japan is on the whole, I will instead dream about my perfect society. Thewy, muscular, rock-haired, and bespangled Indian men throng the streets: it's market day and their mistresses are eagerly waiting for fresh tea and cake. Occasionally their Erte-esque costumes catch on each other - a stray sequin here, too long a baroque outcropping of golden wire there - but these humble man-mountains kiss each other lightly as they disentangle: no harm intended, Bharat! None taken, Rajeesh! In the harems of God-Lord Queen Zseni, thewy, muscular, rock-haired, and bespangled physicists are working out how to turn Zseni's radiance into energy. Zseni is disporting herself lightly among her thewy, muscular, rock-haired consorts (male and female!) but the ones who aren't.... busy... practice their performances for tonight's Ghetto Noh. But mostly, Zseni is impatient for her tea: that socially equal and unbound-by-contract-coercion-or-force slave needs to hurry his black ass up! Just then, General Doomthunder is announced! She hastens into the pleasant and sunlit harem quarters, amused by the scent of cake, worried that there is no attendant scent of tea. "O great lady, whose moon-beauty guides and protects us, I beg audience." She squeals, giggling and throwing herself at Zseni's feet. "Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrddffs," Zseni murmurs from deep within the cleavage of an alabaster-complected brunette. "Our borders are under attack! Again! It's those cunts from Rapetopia!" The General's ample bosom heaves like two dark stars colliding over a sea of lats. Her battle costume, an exact replica of Leia's Bronze Bikini, is bound up in several spots with lycra/tencel blends so that those giant hooters don't just pop out whenevs. Zseni moans. "O fghhhh." Unwinding from Bunny and Claude, she staggers to her feet. "Prepare the Battle Podium. And shake dat ass. You know I love you, girl!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Battle Podium: 7000 magnificent gilded feet of power. The chief war zepplin of Porkchop Nation is studded with exquisite speakers, and instead of guns, missiles, mechs, or nukes, it bears.... Zseni. Resplendent in slimming black battle robes, Zseni leans over the prow. "Check dis, I'm king of the WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORLD." "Your Highness' lips to Your Majesty's ears," General Doomthunder breathes softly, offering her busty mounds as handrests. "Aw thanks Doomy, but I need my footrest. CHUPDISH! FRONT CENTER AND KNEELIN, BITCH!" Chupdish is barely in position before a message arrives from the Podium's captain: "We approach the border, Your Royal Magnificence. You are totally the shit." "That's no lie. Doomy, would you be a butterangel and bring me Da Mike?" Da Mike - hewed from the living rock of Revenge. Da Mike - also carved from a single enormous pearl. Da Mike - acoustically perfect, divinely ordained. It nestles into Zseni's hand like a child awaiting Christmas in a snug bed as she splays her ponderous bulk across Da Battle Throne. "Why," She begins in gently resonant tones. "You gotta bust up my border like that? Man, don't you know rape is wrong?" Far below, the irregulars scattered over the mountains turn their heads towards heaven. "It seriously is. And what's more: if your shit does not get its ass off my mountain posthaste, there's gonna be a massive Scolding in store." The Rapetopia army, massing at the border, begins to visibly loosen ranks. "DID YOU NOT HEAR," Zseni thunders, her spectacular voice rolling sublimely, "WHAT I SAID? GET YOUR SHIT OUT OF HERE!" Stragglers at the perimeter of the battle groups start to quail - the first one breaks and runs! "AND QUIT RAPING! YOUR PUNISHMENT IS TO SEND ALL YOUR WOMEN TO ME!" The enemy general is struck dead with shame on the spot. Morale breaks and it's every raper for himself as the army chews itself alive from the inside out in a frenzy of guilt. A month later, every woman in Rapetopia arrives via caravan train. Never in their lives was there a sweeter moment than this: the moment that they first heard.... "Welcome to Porkchop Nation! God-Lord Queen Zseni bless you! Here is some makeup remover! Put your pantyhose in the fire over there!" |
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