The man in the cowboy hat gazed across the snow at the shorter, brown skinned be-dredlocked man, and the tall rangy man with the flared nostrils. He shot them a smile, a good smile, a smile which had been described as a "Dennis Quaid grin".... which was pretty appropriate, because he was in fact Dennis Quaid.
Some time later, behind a nearby snowmobile. Dennis spanked the double-domes of Lister's tanned rump. He marvelled at the way the light reflected off it. "Don't get this kinda light in England, huh?" he drawled in his Norwegian-American accent. Lister's face creased into a slow frown. "Eh? What ye talkin' bout? Just geddon with it wouldya?" "Well excuse me," chuckled Quaid as he applied the lube and entered the hot cross buns with a precisely measured thrust "... this is my first time you know...", he lied. "It is?" shrilled Rimmer from behind - his voice a little muffled as he lived up to his name. "Me too mffrfrfrrf." "Oh yeah" agreed Dennis. "Oh... yeaaaahhhhh!" The sound of another snowmobile approaching caught them off guard. It skidded sideways to a halt and the man riding it raised his goggles. "Hello" said the sheriff, stroking his beard and not bothering to react to the erotic scene before him "... you do have a rifle?" "I'll say!" Rimmer piped up again, rubbing his knees as they were getting a little cold now. "No..." droned Dan "I mean an actual rifle... You need one if you're all the way out here. Polar bears are very dangerous here in FORDITOOD." The End? |
Imagining hilarious, beautiful
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