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A Happy Halloween
A Happy Halloween Settle yourself in for the creepiest of tale Told in a manner that’d cause a real poet to pale. Of a story so strange it feels like a dream Yet told using that of a ’s rhyme scheme. Long, long ago — a few weeks at best — An old crone hatched a plan of utter deviousness. Into the cauldron she tossed eye of newt Which is always the first ingredient (and tasty to boot) Next: an odd duck, in went a stick of Old Spice Then 4 different kinds of white and brown rice. To top it off, she dunked with a flare, A pare of lace panties. Yes. Underwear. With a clap of thunder, those panties did soar seek out the closest and most vile of stores. Into the Mall flew the dangerous lace design, And into a shop so cool you can’t read the sign. It nestled down deep in a cozy panty bin Where it slept until in came a woman quite trim, Looking for a gift of sexiness to share She did randomly chose the cursed underwear. These underwear would, at inopportune times Cause their poor wearer to enter the horniest of minds An example: waiting in line at a local grocery. Or: chatting with your elderly parents socially. They would glow dark eldritch purple, then activate And suddenly, without warning, the need to masturbate. To some it’s a curse, to another a blessing, The lover of the panty-clad would be kept constantly guessing. Sex during shopping, sex in the hall. Sex during political commercials or after a fall. A splurge during a briss, yet again at a funeral. A roll in the hay after a meeting of energy, renewable. That lace did cause quite the sore parts, But nary a complaint came from the young-ish upstarts. Well, that is, until the panties gave up the ghost During an especially strong hand from its now-willing host. The cursed panties ended up ripping to shreds! Leaving the lovers stranded in some<b> strangers </font></b>bed. Lust, now all gone, they stumbled away, Messy, barely dressed, they left the chalet. The horror now comes: their sex drives then died. And the lovers lost passion for random fun-rides. So remember, dear readers, to enjoy each second. And have sex whenever your drive dost beckon. |
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