Bingo – King of the Bongos - Part 9
Dring dring- dring dring.
‘Houston here.’
The man at the other end of the phone is a very angry - ‘The Donald´.
‘Houston, you have a big fucking problem you stupid twat. I just got a report on my desk saying maniacs are on the loose in equatorial Africa and three of them are supposed to be brain dead. Explain before a drone drops a bomb on you and all of your family can sing ashes to ashes dust to dust…’
‘Houston here.’
The man at the other end of the phone is a very angry - ‘The Donald´.
‘Houston, you have a big fucking problem you stupid twat. I just got a report on my desk saying maniacs are on the loose in equatorial Africa and three of them are supposed to be brain dead. Explain before a drone drops a bomb on you and all of your family can sing ashes to ashes dust to dust…’
Professor Erwin Houston, brain specialist, shits himself. He
had been caught with his pants still up.
‘Er, hi Mr President. Erm, Tee hee, it was a new form of frontal lobotomy using cyber software. I think it may have gone wrong.’
‘Er, hi Mr President. Erm, Tee hee, it was a new form of frontal lobotomy using cyber software. I think it may have gone wrong.’
‘May have gone wrong? May have
gone wrong! Have the terrible triplets brains or not and in the pictures there
are operational scars.’ (Sounds
of the white house cat being kicked to death.)
‘Er, Boss, they just temporary tattoos. The triplets are fully functional maniacs. Sorry I fucked up. And before you kill us all – I better tell you the rest.’
‘Hurry up, you have 30 seconds before you meet whatever maker you had.’
‘Er, Boss, they just temporary tattoos. The triplets are fully functional maniacs. Sorry I fucked up. And before you kill us all – I better tell you the rest.’
‘Hurry up, you have 30 seconds before you meet whatever maker you had.’
Houston babbled frantically – ‘There was a short circuit, their
heads are programmed with every violent video game ever made. They are beyond
ticking time bombs and…’
‘This call has been terminated- for ever. Please contact your local operator.’
‘This call has been terminated- for ever. Please contact your local operator.’
Big Boom sound.
The Donald turns to his Chief of the whole fucking 2 million lunatics of trained queers, lesbians of the armed forces and shouts out your – ‘Your fired.’
- - -
Meanwhile at exactly the same time, in a small village in North Korea, Tsin Zang Zong has just found in his eetsie beetsie plot of land to grow pilchards, is a small box on the end of a small parachute. He rushes home to his eetsie beetsie hut of a roof of plastic bags on 3 poles wigwam style, and opens the box. Inside are lots of strange blue pills and an an instruction sheet. In English, but that is no problem, he can use that to wipe his arse.
He pops three pills and withing 15 mins feels a strange stirring of his one eyed spitting cobra. His daughter walks past, naked as no one can afford clothes, a huge erection fires up straight into his lower jaw and exits out the top of skull.
At least he died happily.
The Donald turns to his Chief of the whole fucking 2 million lunatics of trained queers, lesbians of the armed forces and shouts out your – ‘Your fired.’
- - -
Meanwhile at exactly the same time, in a small village in North Korea, Tsin Zang Zong has just found in his eetsie beetsie plot of land to grow pilchards, is a small box on the end of a small parachute. He rushes home to his eetsie beetsie hut of a roof of plastic bags on 3 poles wigwam style, and opens the box. Inside are lots of strange blue pills and an an instruction sheet. In English, but that is no problem, he can use that to wipe his arse.
He pops three pills and withing 15 mins feels a strange stirring of his one eyed spitting cobra. His daughter walks past, naked as no one can afford clothes, a huge erection fires up straight into his lower jaw and exits out the top of skull.
At least he died happily.
---
Tracy has landed on the border to the Democratic Republic of
Insane Monkeys and greets Poncho and Macho. She tells them the good news. Bingo
intercepted a twitter between The Donald and Professor Houston. Turns out you
still have all faculties. He is on the way to see Tarzan and persuade him to
get the Bingos to join us to free Mattress and wipe the mother fucking Buk ‘em in
my Harem off the face of the earth and…what
the fuck is this lot?’
‘It’s the Mini Mzingi tribe, we persuaded them to help us.’ Poncho scratches at his hole while explaining.
Tracy frowns. ‘They all seem to have only one leg.’
Macho – ‘Well they prop each other up till one gets drunk and then they all fall down.’
‘It’s the Mini Mzingi tribe, we persuaded them to help us.’ Poncho scratches at his hole while explaining.
Tracy frowns. ‘They all seem to have only one leg.’
Macho – ‘Well they prop each other up till one gets drunk and then they all fall down.’
Tracy is about to blow her top when a Mini Mzingi, who had
been on renascence hops up. He has news about the evil, Buk ‘em in my Harem, whereabouts.
---Stay tuned for the next part – because things start to get really nasty.
No comments:
Post a Comment