I have a fantasy that Nicki Minaj and I are on a plane together and it crashes. We both end up on a deserted island, just us two. Nicki, being a starlet, knows nothing of how to survive, while my hours lurking in 4chan threads has taught me how to make fires and live somewhat off the land. We’d spend years together on this island. She would come to rely on me for survival. Eventually, she’d fall for me and we’d make passionate love for hours on end. After a few years of fucking each other, some debris would wash ashore allowing us to finish the construction of a raft, a la Castaway.
During the voyage home, Nicki and I would get separated, but we’d both make it home. Her, picked up by a luxury cruise, me by a commercial grade fishing boat. We’d both think that the other had died. I would make it home a month or so later, while she was taken home immediately, being Nicki Minaj washed up on a cruise.
Upon returning home, I turn on the television and see her on Letterman doing an interview about her time on the island. I watch the whole thing from beginning to end, and at no point am I mentioned. She’s trying to tell everyone that she survived alone for half a decade. Enraged, I take my savings and go on a trip to America. I find my way past Nicki’s security and break into her room while she’s alone.
Standing behind her, I cock my gun to get her attention. I ask her how she could so such a thing and she begins deeply sobbing. Barely able to talk through the enormous gasps for air, she begs for her life. At this point, we fuck. The greatest fuck we’ve ever had. The most passionate, beautiful fuck that ever fucked. Then, after I come a few times, I ask to hotdog her ass. Then, while I’m doing that one last time, I grab a vase off a nearby table and cave her fucking skull in.