Author: Lisa ‘Smut Queen’ Weber

Rating: R for insinuation

For the OMIGOD Challenge presented by Dawn. Here are the rules:

1. It should gross me out. Or at least give me the heeby geebies for a while.

2. Jareth needs to be in there somewhere. I don't care if it's even a short cameo.

3. There has to be a UGLer in there somewhere too..

*grin* You want it, you got it....HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA.........this is my very

tired "I'm sore all over from work" story. Shoosh, I know it sucks!

~Lisa

The setting: In a motel room, somewhere a few miles away from the White

House, Lisa's (myself) on vacation and is looking through a guidebook to see

what there is to do.

~*~*~*

*How cool...a tour of the White House* Lisa thought to herself, as she pored

over her tourist list of "things to do while in DC" guidebook. *I'm gonna

hit that one for SURE...heh heh heh...right after I troll the bars*

Later that evening, a very buzzed Lisa is walking through the White House,

chattering with the tour guide as he tries to give his spiel. Glancing over

his shoulder as he's walking backwards gesturing to some painting and telling

of it's historic signifigance, she stops in her tracks and squeals loudly in

a donkey-ish manner.

"Holy hell, what on EARTH!?!?!?" she cries. "Wouldya look at THAT, what're

they DOING!?"

As everyone turns around to see what she's talking about, a collective gasp

is heard from the small group of tourists.

Cries of "Shocking...I've NEVER..."

"WOW, I didn't realize you could DO that..."

"Holy...I gotta try THAT one..." were heard muttered amongst the group.

There in all their glory were three very naked men, all entwined in the

middle of the war room...looking like the worlds biggest human pretzel.

"C'mon Bill...squeeze it a little tighter...oooh baby, THATS IT" said a

stubby little man with a big brown curly afro-ish mop of hair. Wearing

nothing but a hot pink sweatband, he was stretched out on all fours and

looking very happy with himself.

"Jareth, can you gimme a hand with this? Yeah...pass that Crisco on over"

said the grey-haired man, with a slight western accent. Around his neck was

a golden miniature cigar emblem dangling on a chain, and he was busy trying

to grease up the third man...

The third man, very slender with a big poufy blonde hairdo, was wearing

nothing at all except a large amount of makeup, looking almost as good as Ru

Paul in the process. "I'm trying as hard as I can, dammit....make RIchard

stop squirming around!"

The guy in the hot pink sweatband turned his head and said in a very chipper

voice, "come on you guys, we can DO THIS, work it, WORK IT to the oldies!"

And on that final sentence, everyone clapped their hands over their ears and

ran screaming from the white house, shouts of

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

OOOoo, MY GOD NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!" beaing heard amongst the loud police sirens

that were getting closer.

THE END.