Titty Man was thinking about Ball Women again. Ball was a racist Amy Schumer like women, with a gay sausage and ginger weenis.

Titty walked over to the window and reflected on his Dirty surroundings. He had always loved Steamy Mcdonalds with its tall, tan Thots. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel Horny.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather some*one*. It was the a racist figure of Ball Women.

Titty gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a splendid, hot, piss drinker with an erect sausage and lanky weenis. His friends saw him as a rainy, robust Rasputin fucker. Once, he had even rescued a diced micropenis from a burning building.

But not even a splendid person who had once rescued a diced micropenis from a burning building, was prepared for what Ball had in store today.

The rain hammered like flipping mole rat, making Titty Depressed. Titty grabbed an Erect banana that had been strewn nearby; he massaged it with his fingers.

As Titty stepped outside and Ball came closer, he could see the horny glint in her eye.

“I am here because I want To clap those cheeks,” Ball bellowed, in a cold-blooded tone. She slammed her fist against Titty’s chest, with the force of 304 ostriches. “I frigging hate you, Titty Man.”

Titty looked back, even more Depressed and still fingering the Erect banana. “Ball, nice rack,” he replied.

They looked at each other with Gay feelings, like two modern, magnificent mole rat humping at a very gay funeral, which had Picallo music playing in the background and two kek uncles shagging to the beat.

Suddenly, Ball lunged forward and tried to punch Titty in the face. Quickly, Titty grabbed the Erect banana and brought it down on Ball’s skull.

Ball’s gay sausage trembled and her ginger weenis wobbled. She looked Erect, her body raw like a fast, faint fleshlight.

Then she let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Ball Women was dead.

Titty Man went back inside and made himself a nice drink of piss.