“Whoa there, big fella. No dickie. No entry.”
Stymied on the veranda, the conflicted monster grunted.
With Timewarp blasting through the party’s haze, the monster cautiously scanned the sorority’s grinnin’-and-twinnin’ knob goblins before whipping out little Frankenfurter for inspection.
“What unholy thing’s that?” Mary cooed. “It’s fucking green. Balls too. Talk about costume commitment. Sis, I think we have a weiner.”
“So Frankie, wanna tap some Hungarian ghoul ass?” Shelley asked as each cock troll modelled their curvaceous gourd.
“Maybe makey some pumpkin cream pie?” Mary added.
“Me. Fucky. Gob-lins!” the stomping monster excitedly bellowed. “Me. LOVE. Pie!”
