Now, where did we leave off? 🤔
“I AM THE PUSSY KING! Ha-ha. Haaaaaaaaaa…” Mickey Mouse™️ knows.
…oh…😓
“...erm…oh right! Mickey Mouse™️, whatever brings you here?” Father Creed asks the question on nobody's mind.
“Ha-ha. The wish of a sad child in need bringssssss me here. Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaa…”
“Sad? Child? You mean the DEAD one in my basement?”
“Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhush them sexy lil’ lips!” Mickey Mouse really stretches out his arm and finger to silence our silly little priest. “And nope. Haaaaaaaaaaa…”
“Then who?”
“You, silly!” Mickey Mouse aggressively (and possibly sexually) tickles the tummy of our silly little priest with long, spindly fingers. “Haaaaaaaaaa…”
“Oh, Mickey.” Father Creed giggles with the spindles. “I’m not sad, and I’m no child.”
“But you are on the inside. Haaaaaaa…” *drool* “iiiiiiinside…” Mickey Mouse™️ snorts up a centipede in his nostril messily like he does with cocaine in the bathroom. “That’s where I wanna go…”
“Oh, Mickey.” Father Creed's eyes grew three sizes that day (which is today). Mickey Mouse™️ just casually dropped an important (and easy, safe, marketable) lesson from which we could all learn a thing or two from or something. I don’t know, fuck you.
“Aww, ha-ha. Gosh, don’t look so down, Charlie Brown! I know just the thing to turn that down-frown back upside-downside! Ha-ha!” Mickey Mouse™️ zips away in a puff of smoke to find the nearest musical instrument. *drool* And he found it, thank goodness! “Cue me in, white boy.” Mickey Mouse™️ cracks and wiggles his fingers. “And a one, and a two, and a haaaaaaaaaaaaaa…”
🎶🎶🎶 *pat-a-pat-a-pat* Mickey Mouse™️ uses Kristine’s chunky cheeks as bongo drums. 🎶🎶🎶“Come on! Daddy wants another Oscar for Best Original Score™️! Ha-HA-haaaaaa…”
“Mickey Mouse™️. Shame on you!” Father Creed wags his finger. “Why are you using that poor woman’s chunky cheeks, I mean FAT ASS, I mean posterior as bongo drums?”
“Ha-ha. Gosh. Oopsy-whoopsy-daisy!” Mickey Mouse™️ stops. Then, he rolls and flips up Kristine like an airborne rug. “You’re more of a jazzzzzzzzzzzz man! Haaaaaaaaaaaaaa…”
🎶🎶🎶 *oh-oh-ah-AH-AH* Mickey Mouse™️ uses Kristine’s breast and chest as an accordion of sorts. 🎶🎶🎶 “A goooooood song touches people! Ha-HA-haaaaaa…”
“Shame! Shame!” Father Creed wags his finger. “You are correct in my taste in jazz, although this isn’t jazz at all. And stop using that poor woman’s breast and chest as an accordion of sorts this instant!”
“Ha-ha. Come over and make me, BITCH!” Mickey Mouse™️ blows a raspberry that sounds like a horn.
“Mickey Mouse™️! A cultural icon™️ shouldn’t use that kind of language and do these things!”
“Ha-ha! The day I finally listen to a child sex abuse survivor is the same day I stop doing COCAINE! HA-HA!” Mickey Mouse™️ is one tough customer when it comes to debates. 🤔 “And I’m only saying and dooooooooooooooooooooing what’s barely still left of your shattered psyche is compelling you to dooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooing and saying. Ha-haaaa…” 🤔
“Nonsense!” Father Percy Creed, the man himself, sets the record straight. “First of all…”
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