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The Worst Thing Ever


I want you to look at something and know that it’s not my fault.  I didn’t do this.  I wouldn’t do this.  But it’s a thing that happened and I never knew about it until just now, two years after the fact.  Just look.

 

Crikey.

I’ve called a lot of things the worst thing ever but this thing is just so ridiculous and so worst that the other worsts can’t even begin to hope to be this worst and nor should they be.  Let’s deconstruct it!

  1. That photo
  2. Horrible vaginal odor that is able to overwhelm a grown man
  3. A knife
  4. That final sentence.

I’m cold and frightened and rocking gently in my chair at the moment and I want to unknow that this happened.  And it’s not just because of the story as presented it’s because of where it ends.  It ends with the threat of mortal danger.  But then what?  THEN WHAT?

Most news sources that reported the incident ended it there and The Smoking Gun, where it originated, follows up with the responding officer finding Williams on scene with no pants on.  I don’t know why I want to know but I need to.  I need to know what transpired after the most terrible threat in all of Christendom was uttered and before the police arrived.

Because you too are now wondering how that story ended, I present to you, one time only, the official Holy Taco Assumption of what went unsaid…

“You’re not serious.”

“Oh, I’m serious.  Get to lickin’, Licky Boy!”

“Oh God.”  The two men look at each other, panic-stricken.  Williams thrusts angrily at the air with her knife.  Watson, desperate, leans forward, wincing.

“Blwap blwap blwap.”  His head bobs to and fro.  Williams frowns and looks down.

“What are you doing?”

“Pleasuring you?”

“You’re 6 inches away from me and you’re just making a noise like blwap.”

“Oh.  You caught that.”

“Why aren’t you pleasuring me?  Is it…don’t you think I’m pretty?”

Both men share a hearty laugh.

“Oh, Melissa.  No.  You look like Shrek’s uncle.”

“What?”

“And, please try not to be offended, but your undercarriage smells like an abandoned third world fish cannery.”

“Oh my God, that smell is me?”

“Oh yeah.”

“I thought it was my dog!  Oh my God.  I’m so sorry, that’s terrible.”

“Yes.  You should consider washing you bird every so often.”

“You can wash these things?  But how?”

“I dunno.  Maybe try a damp cloth?  Soap?”

“You’re blowing my mind right now.  Man, I need a drink.”

“Have a seat.  We’ll wait for the cops to come.”

“Good thinking.”

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