The bort salesman

Once upon a time in a world filled with monsters but not very many pockets there was a devious critter, a snake oil salesman of sorts, by the name of Mys. Carrie (but please, call him Abortion. Carrie was his father who left for the Moomoo milk and never returned…)

One day Mys Carrie Abortion was minding his own business scamming innocent pokemon in towns with his new magic x eye seed scam that gets you high AND revives you.

Suddenly a voice called out from the distance. “That’ssss bullshit” it said.

“Um who the fuck are you? nobody asked” Said Myster the Abortion as the stranger revealed himself from the shadows.

“My name is Onitsssuka and frankly I think this whole ‘snake oil’ businessss is kind of racisst. Like why do they call it that? We don’t even produccce oil!”

Mys. Carrie was flabbergasted. But he was a bird of words and knew just what to say. --------------------

"Psh...Typical liberal spotted. Back in my day the only woke you were was when you werent affected by the sleep status. Let me guess...Blue hair and pronouns?"

Oni was giving live snake reaction. "...Dude. I don't have blue hair. or any hair. let alone pronounssss. You know this Abortion, we were married ssseven yearsss."

Myster ABortion laughed ahuhuhu! like an anime villian. "Bingo~ i'd askfor custody of the kids but we all know what happened to them..." Myster abortion chuckled to himself.

Oni grimaced. "Thatsss right...the bort of eighty ssseven..." How could he forget?

--------------------

He looked on blankly, as the events of that day played back in his head like Vietnam.

"MARIA"

He called out, before it all stopped with the sound of a gun's BANG, and he resurfaced to reality.

"I know what I must do, Abortion... we gotta 'bort this ssson of a bitch."

And then, the snake hopped onto Abortion's back, and they flew off, soaring across the Appalachians, until they reacted their target.

"THE WORLD TRADE CENTER! THERE IT ISSS! QUICK ABORTION, FULL SPEED AHEAD."

Abortion looked up at the snake, scared.

"THIS IS A LITTLE RISKY, ISN'T IT?"

"Well... sometimesss you gotta 'bort a few eggssss to make an omele-"

BOOM. The impact was terrible, fire burst from the windows of the building, people were screaming, there couldn't have been enough fire trucks to put out the flames of the aftermath.

Meanwhile, in a kindergarten somewhere in America, George W. Bush, a Heatmor, was addressing children in a classroom with a children's book in his hand, when a secret service agent whispered into his ear.

He looked onwards, dropping the book onto the ground as his weirdo anteater lips shook.

".......mother of fuck."