hunka munka

Apollo rips his shirt off with a loud, sexy roar, slapping his elephantine titties with great conviction. You feel intimidated. Very intimidated. This scared you limitlessly. He continues to smack his hands against his gargantuan abs like beautiful drums— they made a sweet music, you thought.

Finally, he stops. Sweat glimmers on those gorgeous honkies. And when he opens his mouth, his voice seems to juxtapose the great passion he displayed in his sweet, sweet drumming, “Listen.” His voice is dull.

—

Apollo: Grr… drumming???????


Me: -pulls at the collar of my shirt- EEEEKK!!! >///<  DON’T BE MADE APOLLO……..

TO BE CONINTUED ???:

—

“I really don’t want to be here.”