Jerry and Tinky
by
Shadowloup

Only those metaphysically over the age of consent may read this story.

Wearing only boxer shorts with a "Jesus Saves" motif, Jerry sat alone in his favorite chair pitying himself, the flabby ridges and contours of his drooping chest and arms thrown into stark relief by the flickering of the television set. On a stained coffee table a bottle of sourmash sat atop a Bible cum coaster, much like a small dog awaiting its master's call.

Once Jerry ruled a vast ministry. His image was broadcast to nations 24 hours each day, and his message that God showed His favor by bestowing monetary riches was heard by hundreds of millions.

Jerry had been well connected then. He merely had to pick up the phone to talk with Ronny, assuming the President was not asleep and that the Pres remembered who Jerry was. Those had been Jerry's salad days. Millions of people heeded his every word and sent him billions. Those billions had come in handy when his wife wanted to use the plane to go shopping in Hawaii and the children wanted new Italian sports cars.

But those days were long past.

Now Jerry had more free time than he wanted. With that free time came the Darkness, which sapped Jerry's soul and strength. He did not have enough energy to write sermons condemning Godless Hollywood. He barely had enough energy to watch the television shows created in that satanic place.

So it was that Friday found Jerry sitting alone in the dark on the threadbare couch clad only in his boxer shorts.

He scratched his balls through the thin material of his skivvies and sighed. Then he changed the channel.

Jerry was jerked out of his unholy lethargy by the bright pastel colors of a new show he had never seen before. Four bright creatures pranced before his amazed eyes. They were vaguely humanoid in shape, with furry arms and legs, and fuzzy fat behinds. Each had a different colored fur. Their faces were childlike, but also simian. And they talked to each other with soft, baby-like cooing. Jerry found himself strangely drawn to the purple one whose name was Tinky Winky.

The show’s plot began sucking Jerry in. There was a strange baby in the sun who looked down with delight at the creatures' activities. A strange voice would tell the creatures what to do, and they would do it giggling all the while.

Must be an angel, Jerry thought.

After watching for a while, Jerry became aware of strange feeling arising from his groin. He looked down and was startled to see his penis tenting his sacred boxers as if it too were anxious to view the creatures. It was a sight so rare and wondrous it gave Jerry pause. It was a bit like Lazarus rising from the dead. Even his wife had not been able to evoke such a reaction from him in some time.

Jerry scratched his chin, and took another sip of sourmash as he pondered this situation.

His gaze wandered back to the television where those four creatures were trying to get the purple one to wear a skirt.

Jerry's penis lurched, soaking the front of his boxers with precious bodily fluids.

"This is wrong," Jerry said. "Very, very wrong."

What ungodly influence was causing his naughty bits to react this way?

Jerry thought about it for a second, then raced to the kitchen. Somewhere his wife had a magnifying glass. If he could only find it...

He tore through the contents of four drawers, scattering knives, spoons and strainers on the floor before he succeeded in finding a long handled magnifying glass. Jerry raced back to the television set and knelt in front of it. The unkempt shag rug was rough against his knees, but Jerry hardly noticed as he began the laborious task of sexing the teletubbies. While he couldn't be certain, Jerry felt that the yellow one's crotch bore the hall marks of Eve. As did the red one. The green one could be male. But the purple one was definitely an Adam.

Jerry was incensed. The sanctity of a children's show was being besmirched by this creature who was prancing about with his sword of God hanging out for all to see.

As if to say "don't forget about me," Jerry's penis gave another throb.

Stunned, Jerry decided to analyze his reaction with another sip of sourmash. As he did so he developed a theory. That was what he was good at - thinking up things.

And his theory was this. The purple male teletubby had an antenna. Antennas send waves. Jerry knew this because once his broadcasting empire actually possessed some antennas when he had been broadcasting the gospel. But this teletubby was using his antenna to broadcast some sort of homosexual radiation wave.

That insidious bastard, Jerry thought.

It all made sense. The teletubby's antenna was triangular, a subtle symbol of homosexuality. The purple fur, another gay designation. And that handbag. Only Eve had been allowed to use handbags in the Garden of Eden.

Taking up the magnifying glass again, Jerry gave Tinky Winky's crotch another going over. Definitely male. And, if he was not mistaken, the teletubby's genitalia was circumcised. Tinky Winky was Jewish.

"Why am I not surprised," Jerry sarcastically said to the tellytubby

Jerry's naughty bits throbbed as the purple teletubby faced the camera. It was more than he could stand.

Angry, Jerry dropped his skivvies and grasped his angry member with one hand.

"Is this what you want?" he shouted to the televised teletubby. "This what you want, you godless pervert?"

Using short, vicious pumps, Jerry jerked his penis towards the screen displaying the purple teletubby's sappy face and grinning mouth. An image of Tinky Winky's mouth closing over his prick filled Jerry's head. There were more images, images of that purple rump setting atop his face, immersing his nose in sinful pleasure, butt fur chaffing his cheeks in intimate contact, sweat pouring off his brow...

"Get out of my mind, you sexual Antichrist!" Jerry screamed, his fist tight and chiseling away at his naughty bits as the flab of his arm waved in the breeze.

"Uh oh," Tinky Winky said.

With a horse scream, Jerry spurted his semen across the tv screen in long, dripping ropes of unleashed lust, dousing the purple being's face. "Take that, you slut! Take that!", he repeated to the point of incoherence until the pleasure diminished to cold, breathy anticlimax.

As his heartbeat slowed and his breath caught up with him, Jerry pondered what his next move would be. The public had to be informed of this satanic conspiracy. A press conference would be in order. Plus a fundraising letter. And a sermon.

Once his people learned of this purple gay jewish antichrist, they would start sending him money again. His coffers would overflow. Glory awaited, he was again favored by God.

Praise Jesus!

Jerry smiled, then blinked.

Before all that he had to clean up the tv set before his wife got home.