You could call this a fanfiction. You could call it an abomination against humanity.
You would be right.
“The Itch Only Love Can Surpass”
Based on “
Dance of the Manwhore” by Adzuken, Sexual Lobster, Dutchinlive, Ultius, SPace, and mattpoop. (May be NSFW...)
“Climb upon my trusty steed,” Fernando whispered. The scantily clad woman, in her pale blue bikini, saw little alternative. Anything was better than being eaten alive by the enormous dinosaur chasing them.
“Alright,” she said, mounting the stallion behind him.
“Later you will taste my seed.”
“What was that?”
“Love as large as Brontosaurus,” he grunted past his flowing black beard. He drove the horse onward, escaping the lumbering reptile’s gigantic feet. The woman clung from behind to his musk-stained wife-beater, grasping chunks of chest hair in her hands for leverage. “Passion...like a bleeding walrus.”
Out of nowhere, a walrus of untoward proportions burst from the sand (for they had left the forest and were now apparently on a beach), ichor running down its cracked, dry backskin. Fernando grabbed the woman by the hips, and flung her forward off the horse in perfect gymnast’s form.
Unfortunately, she was not a gymnast.
She hurtled through the air, somehow landing on the walrus’ bloodslicked back. Fernando followed, straddling the weeping beast with his black-boxer clad thighs. The horse he had left behind was immediately trampled by the rampaging brontosaurus. The woman wondered what mysticism was afoot here. Could she be dreaming? Could this be some sort of-
“Our love is real, its no mirage!” Fernando bellowed, willing the walrus into the sea to escape the dinosaur. Unlike his handling of the horse, which seemed to lend itself to classical rider’s form, he seemed to coax movement from the walrus by thrusting his pelvis back and forth along its back, the ever-present blood acting as a lubricant. “Want to lock you in my garage” he muttered under his breath.
“What was that?” the woman asked again. The brontosaurus drowned as it attempted to follow them. The man turned, as if to taunt the slowly gurgling monster.
“This heart of mine is yours to capture, from now until VELOCIRAPTURE.” He screamed at the dying animal.
That’s not even the right kind of dinosaur, is it? The woman asked herself. But there would be another time to ask these questions. For now...
A giant squid burst forth from the seemingly calm sea. Fernando lowered his gaze, glaring at the offending animal past wild locks of hair, eyes and hair both dark as the void. He uttered his challenge to the leviathan past clenched teeth.
“Love is like a ripened squid...it stings with limp appendages!” He thrust his arm out to the side, the very foam itself forming a frothing mass about his hand.
“I wield my passion like an axe...it’s warm and gooey, just like wax!”
And just like that, the boiling sea did form a great battle-axe in Fernando’s hand. He faced off against the giant squid, preparing to rend its tentacles from its body. He went to work.
Tentacles slapped against the water, staining the white foam red.
“You cannot tame such juicy lust!” he cried. Almost as an afterthought, he turned back to the woman behind him, asking with genuine concern, “Can you withstand my manly musk?” Before she had a chance to answer, he turned to address the squid, in its death throes.
“Know that I can never hold back!” he cried, raising his axe. “THAT - MIGHT - BE - WHY - I - SMOKE - THE - CRACK!” he continued, bringing his blade down across the monster’s face with every wrenching word. He raised a shaking hand, covered in red ichor.
“Drenched deep in sweaty brine...” He formed it into a fist, asking the corpse, the walrus, the very world itself...
“Is this blood yours or mine?!”
The woman could see that Fernando was deeply distraught. She did not know why this man, obviously endowed with the magics of a long forgotten God, was so deeply moved by the events of the past 47 seconds. Surely his life among whatever pantheon of dieties he fraternized with was less eventful than the life-shattering minute she had known him. Suddenly, he turned, dark eyes framed in rigid determination. A single tear ran down his cheek.
“Tonight I will have sex with you.” he said. It was a statement of fact. A foregone conclusion. She didn’t find herself arguing. He gestured with his bloodied axe to the squid’s carcass. “Then, we will prepare a stew.”
“Fernando...” the woman asked. She had questioned long enough, and it was calm now...who knew how long it would take for another calamity to befall them? “Why did you choose me?”
“You scratch the rash upon my ass. The itch only love can surpass.”
She found herself moved by his words. Such poetry. In fact, every phrase he uttered carried in it an unsung song.
“Oh, Fernando” she moaned. “Please, regale me with more of your divine prose!”
“Roses are red, Violets are blue, I must eat yogurt off of you” he whispered into her ear. She quivered at the simple, primal attraction of those words. She leant in to kiss him...but he backed away, a perplexed look upon his face. He seemed distracted by something.
“...F-Fernando?” She said. He closed his eyes in deep concentration.
“Yogurt is a dish best served chilled...” he said, screwing his eyes shut. Finally, he opened them in realization.
“I forgot to get my prescription filled!” he said, snapping his fingers. She eyed him with concern, but the demons were gone. He turned to her, looking at her with the desire of a hundred men.
“Tears and screams of pain and pleasure are gifts we will share forever.” He said to her. He began to lean in, slowly, majestically. “Stalk like a lizard of the night...come closer, Fernando won’t bite.”
“Oh, Fernando...I LOVE you” she said. Fernando was once again gripped by the odd distraction that had taken him moments before. He looked deep into her eyes, raising his hair-encrusted fists to his own.
“My...father...never loved me” he whispered. It was half confession, half crushing realization. She sat there, on the bleeding back of the walrus, unsure of what to do. She thought to maybe console the weeping demi-god...
A man, clad in spectacularly clashing pink shirt and orange tie, rose from the sea. The water shed itself from his mirrored sunglasses, his hair returning to a state that can only be described as “carefully tousled”. He placed a comforting hand on Fernando’s exposed shoulder, but the man pushed him away, crying openly. Fernando disappeared into the frothing ocean, his tears mingling with the foam. The pink-shirted, orange-tie’d man frowned, eyes hidden behind reflective lenses. He shook his head, slowly. He returned to the sea off the walrus’ other side, leaving the woman stranded, in the middle of the ocean, on the back of a bleeding walrus, in front of the desecrated corpse of a giant squid.
She was eaten by sharks within minutes.
