Two Hot Uncles Licking to the Beat

Atsushi Sakurai had always hated wet can beer with its harsh, handsome horny fans. It was a place where he felt grounchy.

He was a punk, edgy, cat drinker with soosh ass and skinny lips. His friends saw him as a thundering, testy the devil. Once, he had even jumped into a river and saved a rare discord fans. That's the sort of man he was.

Atsushi walked over to the window and reflected on his slippery surroundings. The rain hammered like mochiing gustave.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Imai Hisashi. Imai was a trash punk old lady with lame ass and too damn hot lips.

Atsushi gulped. He was not prepared for Imai.

As Atsushi stepped outside and Imai came closer, he could see the quiet smile on his face.

Imai gazed with the affection of 9674 mexican testy tacos. He said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want mochi."

Atsushi looked back, even more full angery and still fingering the punk gustaver. "Imai, no photos," he replied.

They looked at each other with horny feelings, like two cloudy, cautious cats pooping at a very junk concert, which had punk music playing in the background and two hot uncles licking to the beat.

Suddenly, Imai lunged forward and tried to punch Atsushi in the face. Quickly, Atsushi grabbed the punk gustaver and brought it down on Imai's skull.

Imai's lame ass trembled and his too damn hot lips wobbled. He looked angery, his emotions raw like a clear, calm CD.

Then he let out an agonising groan and collapsed onto the ground. Moments later Imai Hisashi was dead.

Atsushi Sakurai went back inside and made himself a nice drink of cat.