Fuckity fuck fuck FUCK!  I slalom wildly and slam on the brakes, praying I won’t fly off the oncoming cliff.

After infiltrating Grammar Nazi Prime’s laser-webbed compound, evading an army of his red-ink fanatics, then fighting hand to hand with him on top of a speeding train, we both jumped into the lake below, where we continued our struggle inside a speedboat, crash-landed onto shore, and engaged in a chaotic car chase across the highway.  Now, after a wild blur of punches and throws, crashes, swipes, and hairpin turns, I’m about to—

SKREEEE!

My car screeches to a halt, hanging halfway off the hundred foot bluff.  I throw myself back as hard as I can, tensing in a last ditch effort to lighten the front.  The vehicle rocks back and forth, deceptively gentle…then balances on its undercarriage in a forward lean.  The back wheels idle in the air, while the hood dangles over the yawning chasm.

Holy.  FUCK.

Deep breaths, Kent.  Inch to the middle, slide to the back….slowly, slowly…easy does it…bit by bit, the car settles onto the ground. 

WHEW.

Okay, now try the doors.  Dammit—they’re both glued shut.  Must have fucked them up when I was banging off cars, houses, and barriers.  No worries—I’ll kick out a window.  Gotta be careful, because—

“Well well well.”  Grammar Nazi Prime sidles up to the glass.  “Ironic—your instrument of flight has become your prison.”  He examines his nails.  “This can’t be what you expected when you stole this car.”

“Eat smegma,” I snarl, throwing a kick at the window.  THUMP.  “Either push me off the ledge, or get ready for a whooping.  ’Cause it won’t be long before I break this glass.”  THUMP.

“How about neither?”  He produces his phone and taps the display.  “You’re going to tip this car all by yourself.”

“What are you talking about?” I demand.  “Why would I—”  Suddenly, my eyes widen in horror.  “FUCKER!”

Clips from MyFriendsHotMom dot com start playing on his phone, sending blood rushing into my ginormous wiener.  It lurches, shudders, then punches through my pants and uppercuts me in the jaw.  As penis-flesh ripples into the driver and passenger seats, it unbalances the car and makes it rise off its wheels, tipping steadily forward until—”

“FUUUUUUUUUCK!”

I scream myself hoarse as I plummet over the side of the cliff.  That fucker had me pegged—he knew exactly how to kill me with my own massive boner!  Unless I pull a hail fucking mary, I’m gonna die ugly as fuck, in a mess of twisted steel and smelly cock.

So I open my eReader to a Kent Wayne novel, activating its reality distortion powers.  Magic flash.

BRRZT!  I teleport outside, a dozen yards up from the busted trunk.  I’m falling fast, but now I’m slightly better off than a snowball in hell.  Why?  Because I can see GNP peering over the side, laughing at my impending doom.  Need to grab my wiener, twist in the air, and—

Whup-whup-FWOOP!

—snag him around his fuckstick neck.  Gotcha, shitguzzle!

As he clutches at my cock and struggles for breath, I walk hand over hand up the side of the cliff, winding my penile slack around my waist.  Pretty soon, I’m standing behind him, transitioning my wiener from a climbing rope into a garrote.

“You ever thought it would end like this, you evil piece of cumstained fuckgobble?” I hiss. 

His response is an unintelligible gurgle.  By his overpressured face (his skin is beet red, and his eyes are even redder due to the burst capillaries) it looks like he’s about to bite the bullet. 

Time to administer the coup de grace. 

I close my eyes and focus on my favorite porns:  MilfHunter, FoxFuckFive, YourMomDoesAnal…I can feel blood rushing into my dick, tightening down on GNP’s throat.  He tries to speak—“KKKKK”—but that’s all he gets out before—

POP!

His head flies off and his body spasms, ejecting pulsing gouts of arterial blood.  Trynna ambush me and fuck me with my milf-loving wiener???  Nah, pal, fuck YOU!

Kent Wayne wins again!  HEH heh heh!

😀

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