Free A Game of Groans: A Sonnet of Slush and Soot by George R.R. Washington Alan Goldsher

Goof, Tritone murmured, “Don’t make me zitz you, Shecky.”
    “Go ahead and zitz me, Uncle! You can’t make me do what I don’t want to do!”
    “Fine. Make a mental note of this … oh, wait, I see you’re out of paper. That’s probably why you always enter into a battle of wits unarmed. Ordinarily, people live and learn, but you just live. But don’t start thinking now, because it might sprain your brain. You know that we all sprang from apes, but you didn’t spring far enough. I’d ask you how old you are, but I doubt you can count that high. Hey, can I borrow your face, because my ass wants to take a vacation…”
    With tears pouring down his face, Goof cried, “Stop! Stop! I’ll go! I’ll go!” And then he ran off toward the Barker castle, bawling the entire way.
    Now in a cheery mood, Tritone whistled a happy little tune, then turned on his heel and crashed into the Barfonme family bodyguard, Sandstorm Leghorn. The three-armed man snarled, “I seen whatcha did to Master Goofrey, Tritone. And I don’t like it.”
    Tritone grabbed his manhood and asked, “Is that so? Well, how do you like this, quintaped? If ugliness were a crime, you’d be beheaded. Zzzzzzing! ”
    Sandstorm hit the muddy ground as if he’d been stabbed in the heart. As he crawled away, he shook his fist at the giant and said, “You haven’t heard the last of me, Tritone Sinister!”
    Shrugging at the jewel vendor, Tritone said, “Foreshadowing.”
    The vendor nodded and repeated, “Foreshadowing, indeed.”

LOLYTA
    Lolyta Targetpractice was naked, and not ashamed in the least.
    The sun was setting on the horizon, and the wind was blowing from the East; the grass rippled and the leaves waved in the breeze. Loly turned her face to the sky and beamed at the sun. As the yellow orb warmed her face, she felt a stirring in her loins. Unable to help herself, she lowered herself onto the warm grass, lay on her back, inched her hand below her waist, and put her index and middle fingers inside the warmth between her legs. As her special area became wetter and wetter, she fell deeper and deeper into herself; the world disappeared, and it was her, and her alone.
    As Loly moved closer to the brink, she heard a voice: “Sweetie, you look fierce.” Loly opened her eyes, and there was Vladymyr, kneeling over her, his hand hovering over her nipple. “Would you like me to give it a pinchie-pinch?” he asked.
    Her brain said “No” but her mouth said “Yes.”
    “As you wish, my KERBANGER.” And then, as he caressed the moistness between her thighs, Vladymyr Targetpractice squeezed his sister’s nipple as hard as he could.
    Right then, right at that moment, right at the height of the pain, Loly felt the release that she craved each and every moment of each and every day. She emitted a wordless moan, and then …
    *
    Loly’s eyes opened, and reality came crashing down upon her. She was not lying in the middle of a beautiful field getting a handjob from her brother, but rather lying in her bed, on the morning of the day she was to wed Ivan Drago. For a brief moment, she could not decide which was more appealing: receiving hand pleasure from her effeminate brother, or marrying a half man/half horse. After mulling it over, she decided it was a tie, but if she got hitched, she would get a ton of great presents, so she rolled out of bed, slapped on her wedding dress (which consisted of a piece of string and two feathers), called to Magistrate Illinois that she should deliver her pre-wedding brunch, and padded to the dining room.
    And what a brunch it was.
    The pre-meal snack was a three-foot-long, two-foot-high piece of lemon bread, which was filled with raw chunks of boar, yak, venison, pheasant, and lizard. After slathering it in a butter concocted with the semen of a bull, she ate every single inch of the loaf, after which she licked the plate. Illinois then brought Loly the first course, a foot-high pile of scrambled platypus eggs