THE PLAYERS:
Matt
Glenn
 

It was a cold, dark night and I was hungry.
I hadn't eaten in ten hours for I was
busy with my new pimping job. Ohhhhhhh yeeeeaaaahhhh.
I got me some fine-ass bitches, a cane, and then a
technicolor dreamcoat that Kramer wore
on Seinfeld. Boy I sure looked like a he-bitch.
Yes. A he-bitch indeed. I didn't know where to go, so
I went then to the whore house, my he-bitchiness
radiating like the sun's rays. After a quick
fuck I let feeling empty. Sex lacked love in
many ways, chief among them the emotional section.
After a while, I became dead to the act itself, feeling only
my right testicle in my self-examination.
I found nothing, so I went on with my
life, as it always had been. Well, not as it always
had been, what with the death, but more or less
I needed a testicle removed. I will never be the
same and it was hard to accept that. I decided
to, instead of going forward with my life as it had been,
tell everyone that my birthday was on the weekend and laugh and
dream about having a normal, pleasant life.
After the surgery, my new nut felt heavy
in the sack, and looked awful. What a
bum! I couldn't believe that after all this time, after
everythign I ever did for him, that he would, like a very
stupid whore, stiff me like that. Inconceivable!
How dare the doctor put a bowling ball in
my nut-sack. I decided to sue! That
stupid bitch had taken away everything that I could
ever hope to be (and children I could have hoped to have), so
I decided to become a full-out transvestite. A pussy
was what I needed. Enough with the
damned whores. I've got my own fine-ass bitch at home!