About the author:

Buster Manwomb is not the smartest pygmy owl in the meat grinder.

Having only ever been recognized in public by Belgian mobsters, Buster Manwomb has never learned the difference between a book signing and a lynching.

69 Hues of Disney 4: Thomas the Tank Engine tries it in the caboose

Chapter 1: Alack, ye of the creamy thighs

Thomas the Tank Engine was having a bad day at his job as a Customs agent at Liberty City Airport. Like three player characters had shot up the whole place and killed half the lunch rush. And everybody that tried smuggling cocaine and the marijuanas had done so in such massive quantities that he couldn't even have justified doing any strip searches.

"Hey you!" Thomas the Tank Engine called out to the next motherfucker in line, a eastern- European man with a sexy voice with a ticket who walked past the customs desk. "Stop your ass!"

And boy did he ever stop. His glistening pants stretched as he moved, indicating the presence of a thick, meaty penis... or maybe COCAINE!

"Where do you think you're going?" Thomas the Tank Engine Inquired.

"Weyll." The man said with his sexy eastern european accent. "Ay would leik to giet on thies plane heire."

"Well, let's check your ticket then." Thomas the Tank Engine Was distraught when the ticket, which if it was fake could have been the perfect reason to justify a strip search, was in fact legit. "Fuck!"

"Ies Evrythieng alrrieght?" The man asked.

"Unfortunately, yes, mister... Bellic." Thomas the Tank Engine Frowned. "What's your reason for flying?"

"I want to goh tyo thieh beach." Niko Bellic answered. "I want tio see thiese bieg titties thiat my cousin alwaiys talks about."

"Alright." Thomas the Tank Engine Swore, crossing "drugs and/or murder." Off of his 'reasons people in Liberty City would want to fly' list. "Luggage?"

"Jiost theis." Niko Bellic procured a shallow box, placing it on the conveyor belt.

Thomas the Tank Engine Looked at the X-ray. "Is this a pizza?"

"Wieth iextra sausage." Niko Bellic relayed the facts.

Oh fuck I wanna get some of that extra sausage of yours, you dirty slut. Thomas the Tank Engine Thought, biting his lip. "No food allowed of the plane."

"Thiet's okeh." Niko Bellic said, turning the box towards him. Without breaking eye contact, he rolled up the pizza and ate it, licking up up and down its length before taking it into his mouth, chocking lightly.

Thomas the Tank Engine was hard as a fucking rock. And he was a train, so you know that his penis was especially hard and noticeable. It looked like a twenty foot tall metal pickle in a sombrero and groucho marx glasses when he had his pants on.

"Are yiou okieh?" Niko Bellic asked, finishing the pizza and wiping a stream of drool from the corner of his mouth with his wrist.

"I'm fine!" Thomas the Tank Engine yelped, blushing. "Are you smuggling anything today?"

"Jiust caocaine and-awwwww shit." Niko Bellic cursed.

"A HAAAAAAH!" Thomas the Tank Engine whooped, his penis engorged itself further. Nothing got him turgid faster than having somebody fall for his awesome interrogation techniques.

"Can wieh liet this sleide?" Niko asked.

"Nein!" Thomas the Tank Engine grabbed Niko Bellic, wrapping him in his manly and inescapably lithe train arms. "To the strip search room!"