Zakyath
Member
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I'd guess you need a quite descent humour to appreciate this work of art.
LARS, THE OSTRAGE
Today is a good day for Lars. Lars is an ostrage. He is going to meet a lovely female swan he has talked to over the internet. She does not seem as prosaic as all the other female ostrages he has met via the internet. The pictures of her showed a young (barely legal) swan, with feathers white as the brightest new-fallen snow. Even though Lars had not seen snow in his life time, he figured that snow was very white. He had heard tales from the birds that from time to time flew up to the dreadful countries in the north, such as Sweden; he had heard the most horrifying stories about polar bears roaming the streets, eating everything they set their sights on. Both living and dead. The tiny population of humans that had survived lived in an odd and primitive communist society. God bless their poor souls. However, her stated hobbies on BirdBook told Lars that they include lots of things that Lars also was very fond of. Things I reckon you and I would rather not do.
Lars soaked himself in his most expensive perfume, combed his hair and hid his stash of coke in his feathers: enough to make an elephant believe he was on pink, small and cuddly clouds thousands of feet above the ground. She seemed like such a nice girl. And Lars has always believed sharing is caring. And nice girls which Lars would like to get busy with top the list of people he cares about.
Lars took the bus to Goose blvd. where he was supposed to meet the female swan. He arrived early, so he went to buy a boquet of roses for his potential playmate. It was a bright, and sunny day so Lars had his new aviators on him. He thought it really made him look even more rock'n'roll than he did before. Truth is, he looked like a bit of a dandy both with and without them (let us not tell him, he'll be very emotional about it.)
Lars woke up in an empty warehouse, tied down to the floor. The last thing he remembered was a hard hit to the back of his head - which obviously felt very heavy and hurt like hell. He turned around to see a man black as the night - undressed and armed with an erection. Lars reckoned himself in a slightly tricky situation. The man walked towards Lars and stroke Lars feathers. Lars shivered with fright.
"Good morning, sunshine." he said with such a dark voice Lars was surprised he could even hear it.
"Get your dirty hands of me, you wretched scum!" Lars quacked.
"Kiss your mother with that mouth?" the black man replied. Lars was ashamed of being caught by a man speaking such clichés. Lars figured he was not very bright - and Lars was not referring to the mans tone of skin.
"Anyway; while talking about your mother, has she not taught you how many dangerous people you could meed over the internet?" the man smiled and show Lars his yellow, very disgusting teeth.
"What? Loretta? You're not only a scum, you're a filthy liar!" Lars felt an urge to smack the mans head to a rock and paint the walls with his blood. He wondered how many rapists it would take to paint the whole warehouse. He figured it depended on how hard he threw them.
"Liar? Such harsh words. I merely changed a few facts. Many things still apply to me - as well as you. You wouldn't have come if you weren't into kinky bondage sex or S/M. See this as an opportunity to fulfill your wildest dreams."
The black man rolled Lars over and went for what God inteded making an exit; not the contrary: a way in. Lars grabbed the mans privates with his feet, inserted his claws and and ripped them off with a twist. The man fell on the floor and screamed in pain. Lars then used his claws to rip off the rope he was tied up with. Lars was happy he had been persuaded to take those yoga classes he had thought were so worthless. He went up and ran towards the exit of the warhouse. The man got up on his feet and stumbled after Lars. Lars went out of the warehouse and saw a bicykle - likely belonging to the man. He decided to borrow it. While riding to freedom he heard the man's voice shouting "Ostrage stole my bike!" but there was no one to hear it.
Later that day Lars cancelled his internet subscription, borrowed a bunch of books from the library and decided to lead his life in celibacy. And some day maybe become a masquaraded ostrage-hero saving his fellow birds from rapists.
THE END
Today is a good day for Lars. Lars is an ostrage. He is going to meet a lovely female swan he has talked to over the internet. She does not seem as prosaic as all the other female ostrages he has met via the internet. The pictures of her showed a young (barely legal) swan, with feathers white as the brightest new-fallen snow. Even though Lars had not seen snow in his life time, he figured that snow was very white. He had heard tales from the birds that from time to time flew up to the dreadful countries in the north, such as Sweden; he had heard the most horrifying stories about polar bears roaming the streets, eating everything they set their sights on. Both living and dead. The tiny population of humans that had survived lived in an odd and primitive communist society. God bless their poor souls. However, her stated hobbies on BirdBook told Lars that they include lots of things that Lars also was very fond of. Things I reckon you and I would rather not do.
Lars soaked himself in his most expensive perfume, combed his hair and hid his stash of coke in his feathers: enough to make an elephant believe he was on pink, small and cuddly clouds thousands of feet above the ground. She seemed like such a nice girl. And Lars has always believed sharing is caring. And nice girls which Lars would like to get busy with top the list of people he cares about.
Lars took the bus to Goose blvd. where he was supposed to meet the female swan. He arrived early, so he went to buy a boquet of roses for his potential playmate. It was a bright, and sunny day so Lars had his new aviators on him. He thought it really made him look even more rock'n'roll than he did before. Truth is, he looked like a bit of a dandy both with and without them (let us not tell him, he'll be very emotional about it.)
Lars woke up in an empty warehouse, tied down to the floor. The last thing he remembered was a hard hit to the back of his head - which obviously felt very heavy and hurt like hell. He turned around to see a man black as the night - undressed and armed with an erection. Lars reckoned himself in a slightly tricky situation. The man walked towards Lars and stroke Lars feathers. Lars shivered with fright.
"Good morning, sunshine." he said with such a dark voice Lars was surprised he could even hear it.
"Get your dirty hands of me, you wretched scum!" Lars quacked.
"Kiss your mother with that mouth?" the black man replied. Lars was ashamed of being caught by a man speaking such clichés. Lars figured he was not very bright - and Lars was not referring to the mans tone of skin.
"Anyway; while talking about your mother, has she not taught you how many dangerous people you could meed over the internet?" the man smiled and show Lars his yellow, very disgusting teeth.
"What? Loretta? You're not only a scum, you're a filthy liar!" Lars felt an urge to smack the mans head to a rock and paint the walls with his blood. He wondered how many rapists it would take to paint the whole warehouse. He figured it depended on how hard he threw them.
"Liar? Such harsh words. I merely changed a few facts. Many things still apply to me - as well as you. You wouldn't have come if you weren't into kinky bondage sex or S/M. See this as an opportunity to fulfill your wildest dreams."
The black man rolled Lars over and went for what God inteded making an exit; not the contrary: a way in. Lars grabbed the mans privates with his feet, inserted his claws and and ripped them off with a twist. The man fell on the floor and screamed in pain. Lars then used his claws to rip off the rope he was tied up with. Lars was happy he had been persuaded to take those yoga classes he had thought were so worthless. He went up and ran towards the exit of the warhouse. The man got up on his feet and stumbled after Lars. Lars went out of the warehouse and saw a bicykle - likely belonging to the man. He decided to borrow it. While riding to freedom he heard the man's voice shouting "Ostrage stole my bike!" but there was no one to hear it.
Later that day Lars cancelled his internet subscription, borrowed a bunch of books from the library and decided to lead his life in celibacy. And some day maybe become a masquaraded ostrage-hero saving his fellow birds from rapists.
THE END
