The Air that we breathe

The air that we breathe.

Percival and Fredrick had just got married. They were excited and after a ceremony when they were stoned by right wing radicals, who then went on to rape all three of their lesbian supporters and kick the fuck out of some ‘fairies’ as best poofters, they caught the No 69 bus home.

Giggling, and holding hands giving each other little sweet kisses, they took a double seat on a double decker upstairs. Ooohhh – they were hot when suddenly… the beast from the jungle takes the seat in front of them.

Obviously a builder. Hairy arse crack from drooping, cement smeared trousers. Perspiration stained sweatshirt. Socks humming and as he scowled - exposing nicotine stained remaining teeth of freshly drunk beer. He glares evilly at Percival and Fredrick.

They cling to each other in fear. Perhaps he does not like fairies?

Percival’s bowels loosen and whispers to Frederick, ‘I must pass air from my love hole.’ He holds hard to Fredrick’s hand and with the other spreads his buttocks cheeks to let out a long quite hiss scented with faeces and Vaseline. Covered in sweat he leans back. Frederick says, ‘I also need to pass wind from my love hole.’ Squints, squeezes his husband’s hand, spread his buttocks with one hand and releases an angst fart of sounds of silence perfumed with Lacoste anal splash cologne.

The beast has not noticed, coughs up phlegm and spits it onto the aisle floor. It was at the third stop when the beast suddenly stands up. His right hand clutches at a support pole. His eyes bulge- his mouth opens in a silent scream, Guinness beer brown stains dribble down his chin and then…

A clap of thunder shakes the beast’s body. A roar to match a lion, making his body shudder and shake – this was Blitz Krieg. His drooping trousers fluttered whilst Co2 exited to help climate change. The hairs in his bum crack fluttered like a sparrow’s wings as it was chewed in the mouth of a cat.
The flatulence was so heavy it was almost visible, its dense stench permutating in an invisible cloud of dried faeces spores.

Percival and Fredrick clutched each other and coughed lady like – ‘Ooo’ said Frederick, ‘He is a virgin! Shall I ask him if he fancies a fairy threesome?’

The End…