Saturday, November 23, 2019

Bingo- King of the Bongos. Part one.


Bingo- King of the Bongos.

Part One.

Poor, poor Tracy. A triple amputee at the age of three from a rare disease called Rotting Limbs Syndrome, she spent most of her life rolling around.

Her parents were mega rich. The father a drug cartel leader, and the mother a hi-class whore. With the dosh they bought a 3D printer. The best in the world. The software was the finest and for Tracys 16th birthday, she received some really cool kit. Two legs and an arm. She could stiffly strut her stuff and the right arm fixed in a permanent Hitler salute.

The fact that she had prophesises with a strange hue of blue, did not distract suiters as they matched her eyes. Blue from rolling into objects but now she was a woman in legal bloom. Her parents were desperate for a grandchild that could be normal and continue the family business of drugs, sex and murder all tax free.

They set up an account on Tinder. They fiddle the personal description a bit, showing a pretty face, full bosom, hairy crotch but what caught the suiters fancy? A certified picture of her bank account showing 24 million dollars. The offers poured in.

Now Bingo King of the Bongos. He was a simple sheep shagger in New Zealand. Herded them around in circles, clubbing a lamb or two every weekend to eat. He had experience, at the age of 15 he had been kidnapped and forced to club baby seals in Norway. He went on to club to death his evil employee stole his money, then went clubbing. 
Met a dodgy man  and bought citizenship for New Zealand even though he was black as the ace of spades, built like a brick shit house and his mother tongue was, Bingo, of the tribe Bongo, deep in the Congo. But he was not stupid.

Whilst guiding some sheep around with a weapon to make many a woman desire, he would play with his smartphone. He joined Tinder and came across Tracy. He sent her a message Uga Uga? Jiggy-Jig, ah, ah, oooh ahhh. He sent a photo of him stuffing between legs of lamb.

Back in Columbia, Tracy was using one handed typing and Goole speech software. She was really tired of reading and looking at pictures of handsome men lying about it was not the money that made her attractive etc etc. Bingo`s message was truthful and down to earth.

She replied By making a cover of the Pina Colada song, the chorus

Yes, I love Uga Uga
Jiggy-Jig in a drain

I love stuffed lamb and

Getting fucked out of my brains

I have to meet you
Pappa sends a private jet

We will marry and you can pull off my legs.

My right arm is stiff
In a Hitler salute but
Pull that off - it will be a real hoot.

And so, it happened. They married. Bingo was on and in ecstasy.
His wife, loaded to the gills on 97% pure coke, adored being legless and popped on the stick of joy as Bingo used her real arm to spin her around in what is now known as the corkscrew, position.
9 months later out popped triplets of future gangsters. Perfectly formed physically and a strange skin hue of black and blue, there brains showed signs of cocaine addiction and alarming frontal lobe swelling.

2018 - The
Terrible Triplets, so nicknamed. Macho, Poncho and their sister, Mattress, by the age of 15 were learning to make future gangsters of their own and keep it in the family. The cartel was drowning in green backs. They were bored. Whats the point of wearing a 20k diamond and gold Rolex when you are trapped in a paradise of hell in the middle of a jungle Bored, the triplets needed a plan to get out into the real world without getting terminated by the DEA, friends, enemies, and drunken drivers.

End of Part One.

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