Post Date 23 Apr 2002

                         Disclaimer

This is not in the least true; it is a story with fictional
characters doing fictional things that real people wouldn't
do, even on reality TV.  Also, it is a dirty story, which
has shown by the Meese Commission to lead to dirty
thoughts.  If you are not allowed to have dirty thoughts
because of your age, parents, government, or belief system,
please go elsewhere.  Otherwise, enjoy to the limit of
copyright law.  Don't repost or republish without my
permission.  Archiving by ASSM/ASSTR is understood and
encouraged.  Oh, if you make a buck offa it, I DO GET A
CUT; I got cats to feed.  Hate mail and viruses should be
delivered to the address below.  Fan mail could be sent
there as well, I guess, if you want to send fan mail which
I don't see why 'coz no one else does.  Cheques are
welcomed, as are really hot Slovakians.

Thank You and Good Day,
Kenny N Gamera

turtlemeat69@hotmail.com
ftp://ftp.asstr.org/pub/Authors/Gamera

                    Intercourse, The Penguin
                              by
                        Kenny N Gamera

       "Never again, Kenny.  I'll keep you safe."

       She stood up and pulled me to her.  I pulled her
    to me.  Together, we cried.

"And that concludes Part Eleven of the BCC radio
dramatization of "Beggars Can't Be..." by Kenny N Gamera.
And now Radio Four will explode..." which the radio
proceedes to do with a bang much louder than the actual
flash and smoke would suggest.

   Mrs. I-Can't-Recall-Now-But-It'll-Come-To-Me-In-A-Moment
turns to her friend and sometimes lover, but not this week
because her husband is on a business trip, Mrs. Not-This-
Week-(and so on).

   "I hate it when Radio Four explodes."

   "At least it wasn't Radio Two."

   "Yes.  That is so much messier.  The transistors always
get stuck in the cat."

   "Yes, yes."

   A pregnant pause settles over the room.

   Finally Mrs. Not-This-Week... announces, "I hope that
pause doesn't give birth in here.  It's bad enough with the
radio exploding, just imagine the mess after it has all
those little pauses."

   "Yes, yes," agrees Mrs. I-Can't-Recall... "and it is
always so hard trying to give the litter away.  Wait too
long and there's another batch or twelve.  The little
buggers are like foreigners, can't keep their legs apart."

   "Yes, yes."

   "Well, what do we do now."

   "Let's see what's on the tely."

   "Ooooo! I think it's another penguin!"

   "It doesn't look like Danny DeVito."

   "No, but it does look like Burgess Merideth."

   "Why, yes it does!  I wonder what it is doing on the
tely?"

   "It's sitting."

   "I can see that!"

   "Then why did you ask?"

   "It was either that, we'd get another one of those
pregnant pauses."

   "Ooooo! We wouldn't want that!  Not with a penguin on
the tely."

   "Still, I wonder where it came from."

   "It wasn't the zoo.  It doesn't have property of the zoo
stamped on it.  It's shirt says 'Gotham State Penn,'
though."

   "Maybe, it only stole the shirt to make us think it's
from Gotham instead of the zoo."

   "I don't know...though it doesn't look the least
honest."  Mrs. I-Lost-Track-of-Who's-Who's steps up to look
closer.  "Maybe it is from the zoo. Where else would a
penguin come from?"

   "Katie McN's underwear drawer!"

   "Why'd you say that?"

   "I panicked.  Besides something has to come from there.
There's certainly no underwear in it."

   "Still, I don't trust it.  It might be hatching plots."

   "Ooooo! That'd be bad; especially if that pause doesn't
leave soon."

   "WhaWhaWhaWhack!"

   "What's that?"

   "It wasn't me.  It must've been the penguin."

   "Ooooo!  I hope it hasn't started to hatch a plot.  I
just had the budgie steam cleaned and I don't want to have
to shampoo East Angela again."

   "I'll go shoo it away."

   "Be careful...this is a sex story"

   "I don't see how there hasn't been any sex and it is
page three already."  Mrs. Now-I'm-Hopeless-Confused-And-
I'm-The-Writer steps from the battered Chesterfield and
goes to the television and penguin.  "Now, shoo!"

   She waves her hands at the escaped super villain who
just sits there swinging his legs as he smokes his
cigarette holder.

   "Shoo."

   "WhaWhaWhaWhack!"

   "Shoo!"

   Suddenly it becomes page four.  The Penguin grabs Mrs.
Now-I'm... and with powerful muscles forged in the
penitentiary weight room, forces her down onto her knees in
front of the television and his parted legs.  He holds her
down with one hand and uses the other to undo the jumper of
his prison pants.  Thirteen inches of super villain cock
jumps from the fly and bumps the hapless woman in the face.

   "See," Mrs. Oh-I-Give-The-Fuck-Up shakes her head
reproachfully, "told you this was a sex story."

   "Well, it's not a very good o...," starts the stupid
twat who would know a good sex story if it bit her on the
bum before the felonious fake fowl forces his furious fuck
tool to her tortured tonsils.  With both hands, the
villainous vulture of victimization makes the critical cunt
continue to pleasure the pulsating pillar of his powerful
penile pole.

   "You're right, it isn't a very good sex story.  It
sounds like a campy comic book story from the sixties."

   Listen, I'm having a difficult enough time writing this
without my characters trying to be reviewers.  If you don't
mind, I do want to finish this in the next few minutes.
It'll go a lot better if I don't have this constant
naysaying of every word I type.

   "WhaWhaWhaWhack."

   See, he's enjoying himself.

   "MMMMMMMMMMM! MMMMMMMMMMMMMM!"

   You're not supposed to! He IS raping your mouth.

   "MMMMMMMMM MMMMMMMMMM MMMMMMMMMMM!"

   No! you may not play with your clit!  Stupid mouthy
characters, anyway.  I have half a mind to just quit here
and let him rape you forever and forget the punch line.

   "MMMMMMMMM!  MMMMMMMMM!"

   It is too a good one.

   There is a knock at the door.

   You! go answer it!

   "Alright! Alright! Give some people a keyboard and a
word processor and its one big power trip."  Mrs. Not-
Being-Orally-Raped-At-The-Moment gets up and goes to the
door.

   She opens it and says, "Yes."

   "I have a gang rape for you."  The delivery man, a short
man with a overly thick mustache with streaks of gray,
points at his clipboard with a ball point pen. "Could you
sign here, mum?"

    "No thanks, we already have one."

   She slams the door and returns to the chesterfield.  She
sits down in front of her friend and her rapist.  She
pounds against his thighs as he continues to pull her head
up and down over his dick...

   "Ooooooo! This has gotten much better."

   ...Her air cut off at unpredictable intervals, the woman
tries to both breath and control her gagging neither with
great success.  Wildly, her arms flail at the man attacking
her throat for his own pleasure.

   As she swings, a blow misses the target and strikes the
television set.  In particular, it hits the on switch.
After a moment, the set springs into life and the standard
BBC annoucer comes on to say...

   "It is now nine-seventy-two and time for the Penguin on
top of your television to explode."

   "WhaWhaWhaWhack!"

   With one final yank, the escaped comic book bad guy
pulls the face of the pepperpot into his bulging tummy.
Without a tad of mercy, his spunk flows into the woman's
throat.  She swallows as best she can.

   "Oh! That was predictable," says the other, crossing her
arms and putting her chin on a fist.

   The villain pushes her face off from his cock.  He
forces her up and turns her to face away from him.  She is
then made to bend at her waist.  With a flick her skirt is
thrown over her back exposing her white bloomers.

   "What now!"

   "WhaWhaWhaWhack!  Isn't in obvious.  I'm about to fuck
you in...

                          <in chorus>
                            The End