221B Woodbury Street
The zombie apocalypse was in full swing in Georgia, and no one was safe, except for the Governor. He just finished shitting on some dweebs that were held up in a local prison. He became rivals with the leader of that prison, Rick. Now Rick and his crew of bitches remain as floating heads in the Governor's fish tank of zombie heads. The Governor sits there at night, pleasuring himself to the distorted, rotting faces of his old enemies. He is deeply troubled inside, but on the outside he is content. Woodbury is thriving thanks to the guns he got from blowing up the prison, and now they have tanks. Fuck yeah. However, the Governor also begins to see things in his masturbation tank at night. As he stares into the faces of his enemies, he can almost see the future, the future of a doomed Woodbury!
The Governor awakens the next morning, haunted by the vision he had while spanking it to Hershel's wrinkly cunt face. He starts his morning just like he starts all his morning, spanking the ass of Michonne which he now has proudly mounted on his wall. After the morning spank and wank, he hears unsettling screams from Main Street. He puts on his clothes and runs to the commotion like any good leader. There he sees it…..10 biters shackled together in a bizarre display of cruelty. The biters are surgically sewn together in a human centipede style. The children of the town cry at the scene, the women are startled, and the men chortle. There is an old man in the back who is grinning madly while his erection pokes threw his soiled jeans.
The Governor approaches him and shouts, "Who did this thing to my city?! If it was you, you will be sorry!"
The old man lets out a long laugh, looks the Governor in his eye and says, "Me? Do this? Oh no, twas not me. But you don't know who it could have been. Look for clues! OR HIRE A DETECTIVE! AHAHAHAHA!"
The Governor is enraged by this response, and whips out a hammer from the rear of his newly pressed pants. He raises the hammer high above his head and proceeds to bash the ever loving shit out of the old man. Brain chunks fly high and far. People are surprised by the violence, if not slightly intrigued. The Governor looks around, then gathers his crew for a meeting.
The meeting hall is silent. No one dares speak as they can see the Governor has a throbbing cock trying to bust out his pants. Finally, little Smith speaks up, "Um, what should we do?"
The Governor barely reacts to the question, visibly troubled by the vision he had last night, and then the biter centipede. He looks around the room with a cold gaze. He then says, "We…we need a detective. That old man was right. We can never figure this one out."
The crew takes this opportunity to let out a flourish of boyish laughs! "HAHAHA, A DETECTIVE? IN THIS SITUATION?" "Let's go to the detective store to find some, yeah, that will work." "The Governor sure is stupid!" are just a sample of the clamoring, boyish comments being spewed by the tight mouths of the Governor's crew.
The Governor is not pleased with these reactions, so he picks up his kunai knives and starts flipping about the room, letting loose a flurry of precision knife throws, impaling everyone to death. The Governor walks up to little Smith and says, "Eye, eye, shit dick." Then pounds his still throbbing cock down little Smith's throat wound. Little Smith is still alive by some miracle, but the Governor's massive shaft rips the wound apart. The Governor quickly finishes and his spicy seed mixes with the spewing blood from little Smith's jugular. Little Smith dies. The Governor looks somberly at his crew which he just killed because they were bitches. He knows what he must do.
In another part of the world this same morning, we find Sherlock Holmes walking around London, which no longer suffers from the apocalypse because he and Watson cured everyone with science. Sherlock senses a disturbance in the force. He feels an impulse to travel to Woodbury, Georgia. He jumps in the nearest fighter jet with Watson and blasts off in the direction of Woodbury. Sherlock had no idea that Mrs. Hudson was standing right behind the jet and got incinerated by the sudden take-off. Poor old woman.
"Where are we going, Sherlly?" Watson asks in a concerned, sexual tone.
"To solve the mystery my dear. Where else?" Sherlock smuckles as a comeback.
"Yes of course, but where is the mystery boytoy?" Watson says as he sensually breathes on Sherlock's neck.
"Damn it Watson, you ask too many questions. If you don't shut the fuck up, I will eject your ass and blast you to oblivion with the nuclear bomb that we have on this jet." Sherlock shouts with a seething rage.
"Well shit, I'm sorry boo." Watson says apologetically. He and Sherlock have grown to be more than friends since Mary died when she fell into the oven while she was baking a cake.
"It's ok Watson, we are here." Sherlock declares. The jet slows down and lands at the gate. The sign says, WELCOME TO WOODBURY, GEORGIA! A PLACE FOR STEAKS!
Woodbury just got into a big panic at the sound of a jet landing right outside. The Governor grabs his gun and stands ready to fight off the intruders. But then they hear a voice on the outside saying, "We come in peace! We come in peace!"
Children start shaving their skin at the fear that aliens have come in addition to biters. The women start poking the children's eyes to stop the kids from shaving off all of their skin. The madness stops as soon as the Governor opens the gate, revealing the charming couple of Sherlock and Watson. They prance in, stop in front of the Governor, and declare, "WE ARE DETECTIVES! LET'S GET BUSY!"
The Governor is startled, he needed detectives and now they are here. Sherlock looks at the Governor, and the Governor looks back at Sherlock. They size each other up. The Governor finally breaks the uncomfortable silence.
"So, we were in need of detectives." The Governor says shyly.
"I know, I could feel you from London." Sherlock states in an emotionless tone.
"Technically, I'm just a doctor." Watson interrupts, completely ruining the moment the Governor and Sherlock were having.
"Good, go help the sick. I will talk to the real detective, what was your name again my charming eyed beast?" The Governor asks.
"The names Sherlock Holmes. And you are?" Sherlock responds.
"Oh, they call me the Governor here. I'm the leader." The Governor says back.
"A silly name, considering the appropriate title for the leader of a city would be Mayor." Sherlock responds.
The Governor is upset by this sudden shade fest. "I didn't pick it, they just call me it." The Governor quickly says to save his ass. Sherlock smiles and nods in agreement.
"Show me the problem." Sherlock says, ready to get to work.
"Right this way." The Governor says as they begin to walk to the biter centipede.
They arrive at the scene, BUT THE BITER CENTIPEDE IS GONE! The Governor lets out a scream as he can't believe it could have gotten away. Sherlock is impressed with the volume and pitch of the Governor's outburst. Before either of them could speak, they see a trail of ick leading to a shed. They look at each other and begin to walk to it. They arrive at the shed door and can hear the moans and grunts of the dead beyond the door. The Governor motions to Sherlock to stand back and then drop kicks the door down. Inside is none other than…..WATSON!
The Governor and Sherlock step back in disgust as they find Watson with his pants down at the tail end of the biter centipede going absolutely savage on the caboose's anus. Watson sneers at the two of them, "Don't you judge me! We cured this too early in London so I never got to stick my dick in one!"
Sherlock shakes his head and says, "But of course Watson, because if you had, you would have died!" Watson is aroused by the proposal of death and begins to thrust faster and faster until the biter centipede starts falling apart by the amount of force pushing again their cushion. Watson grits his teeth and prepares for the finale. He lets out a finishing shout, "UP YOURS UNDEAD WHORES!" Then a streamlined torrent of jizz evacuates Watson's dick at a breakneck pace. It is like a shotgun blast and completely rips the biters apart, as the Jetstream blasts throw all 10 biters and only stops when it hits the wall. Watson looks quite pleased with himself. The Governor is impressed with his load, and Sherlock has a troubled expression on his face.
"Watson, did you bareback it with those undead corpses?" Sherlock asks.
"Of course, I didn't have a fresh condom on me. Why does it matter, they can't get pregnant anyway. Trust me, I'm the doctor." Watson says cheekily.
"Oh Watson. Look down." Sherlock says as he grimaces. Watson humors Sherlock and looks down. He is greeted by the realization that his penis had been torn to shreds by the bony undead biter buttholes. Blood is pouring out of Watson's dick like a faucet. "You've been infected Watson. We can't save you. Mrs. Hudson is the only one who knows the cure, and we didn't bring her."
"Well, there must be a way. Surely they can save me here, right?" Watson says panicking as he looks to the Governor for salvation.
The Governor simply shakes his head, "We never found a cure. I'm sorry. This is it for you." Watson begins to weep. Watson's perversion strikes back again, since the thought of death arouses him, making the blood start to spew out of his splintered dick like a fire hydrant. Watson is hysterical now and begins to pound on the ground.
"Let me take him out, you don't need to see this." The Governor whispers gingerly into Sherlock's ear. Sherlock mouths "Thank you" to the Governor. He begins to leave, but stops. Sherlock walks up to Watson, kisses him on the cheek, then curb stomps his skull into the pavement. The kicking is delivered with a style, grace, and skill that the Governor has never seen before. Sherlock looks like a ballerina who was done with other people's shit. Watson was now dead. Sherlock looks down at Watson's corpse. Sherlock then unzips his pants and begins to tap one out in honor of his fallen friend. The Governor gives him his space.
The next morning the Governor finds Sherlock sneaking around his room. "Can I help you with something?" The Governor asks.
"No, just looking for clues." Sherlock responds.
"We will find the person," the Governor says in order to assure Sherlock.
"I know. I am almost certain I know who it was." Sherlock declares.
"Who?!" The Governor calls out in curiosity.
"It's simple really. It was THAT BLACK ASS ON YOUR WALL!" Sherlock screams as he jams his index finger into the mounted Michonne's ass' anus.
"But that is just her ass! I cleaved it off myself!" The Governor exclaims.
"So you thought, but look, there is air coming from the plaque. Allow me to prove it." Sherlock wiggles his finger, still up the butt on the wall. Then to the Governor's shock, they hear a giggle on the other side of the wall, and the ass vanishes into the wall!
"She was never dead! She was just sitting there day in and day out to make me believe she was dead!" The Governor realizes.
"Hurry, she is running away. Look! Down there!" Sherlock screams as they look out the window and see Michonne sprinting down Main Street in a pair of assless chaps!
"Damn her! Let's go! Follow my lead!" The Governor screams as he punches the window open. He then stands in the window frame and lets out a high pitched squeal. He then leaps in the air and does a couple of sick spins before landing right in front of Michonne. To the Governor's surprise, Sherlock mimics the move perfectly, even adding an additional sick spin or two.
Michonne is stopped dead in her tracks. She can't get to the gate with these two in the way. "Stand aside and maybe I won't kill you." Michonne threatens.
"Why did you do that to the biters, you got Watson killed!" Sherlock yells, finally letting his emotions out.
"Because the Governor is a dick. I HATE WOODBURY!" Michonne screams. Suddenly the citizens of Woodbury shuffle out of their houses in haunting unison. They begin a bizarre sideways walk towards Michonne while hissing and snapping their fingers perfectly synchronized. "Fuck, there is no way out!" Michonne grabs her katana and goes to commit seppuku in the middle of the scene.
The Governor grabs the blade and stops it short, his vast spiritual pressure prevents the blade from cutting his hand. "Death would be too easy for you. You deserve no such honor. Allow me to finish the job." The Governor says. Then sticks his hand into the road and with the strength of a titan pulls up a massive cube of concrete. "Any last words?" The Governor taunts.
"I shit on you at night." Michonne says with a grin.
The Governor, remembering the mornings he would wake up with mystery poop nuggets scattered across his body, is furious. "I thought that was my scat dreams come to life! DAMN YOU!" The Governor screams, as he slams down the justice brick of death. Michonne is splattered everywhere. Children come streaming out from behind their mothers and shower in the blood of Michonne as it rains down. They laugh joyously as they nibble on her beefy chunks that are now scattered. Some children find some of her bones and start fighting each other to the death. The mothers simply laugh, as only children can be so silly.
With the mystery solved the Governor looks at Sherlock and says, "I never did show you my secret room. Would you like to see it?"
"I would be honored." Sherlock responds.
The Governor leads Sherlock into his secret room with the heads in fish tanks. Sherlock is surprised by the sight. He looks at the Governor and says, "Damn, you are one kinky fucker."
"You have no idea." The Governor responds as he tackles Sherlock to the ground, ripping his clothes off like a feral beast. Sherlock moans as the sudden attack caught him off guard. The Governor then whips out his rod and plunges it into Sherlock's taut boyish bottom. Sherlock lets out a deep, sexy moan. The Governor really lays into Sherlock. The friction creating a very noticeable heat. The Governor finishes hard and blasts Sherlock off like a bottle rocket, right into the head tanks. The tanks shatter and the heads spill everywhere. Hershel's head rolls to the Governor's feet. Hershel's head winks at the Governor and licks his lips, which scares the living shit out of the Governor. The Governor then punts Hershel's head with the skill of an NFL kicker. "LATER BITCHESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!" is screamed by Hershel's head as it flies through a window and into the night sky. The Governor hears a muffled moan behind him. He turns around….to his worst fear. The biter heads that fell on Sherlock started to gang bang him. Daryl and Carl's head are swirling their rotten tongues all over Sherlock's puckered teats. While Rick's head goes down on Sherlock in the most sensual way. Sherlock is overcome with pleasure but also regret as he knows this will kill him. The other heads are scattered on the floor and begin to laugh. The Governor begins to cry.
"Oh no. Sherlock stop. You can't die." The Governor pleads.
"It's okay Governor. At least I got to be with you before I died." Sherlock says as he begins to cry. "In about 30 seconds I am going to cum, then I need you to kill me. I can't be one of them."
The Governor shakes his head, "I can't kill you! I love you!"
"YOU MUST! UGH OOOOHHHHHHH YEAH!" Sherlock shouts as Ricks head hits Sherlock's sweet spot and Sherlock starts spewing jizz like a party popper. "DO IT NOW! I LOVE YOU!" Sherlock calls out.
"I love you too." The Governor responds as he picks out his favorite steel tipped butt plug and rams it straight into Sherlock's eye. The Governor begins to weep. He goes insane and starts curb stomping the biter heads on the floor. He perfectly mimics Sherlock's curb stomping technique from when he killed Watson. "This is for you, my love," The Governor says as his picks up Rick, Daryl, and Carl's heads and starts smashing them like coconuts. "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" The Governor yells as he does the deed. As he does this though, he hears the sound of a fighter jet starting. "What in blazes?" He asks.
The Governor rushes to the window and sees the jet that Sherlock arrived in taking off. "What is the meaning of this?" He rushes outside. The jet is circling over Woodbury like a vulture ready to consume its prey. "Oh no…." The Governor whispers as the jet releases the nuclear bomb right over Main Street. "My vision….it came true." Before the bomb lands the jet flies right by the Governor and he sees that it was Hershel's head that took over the jet.
"MERRY CHRISTMAS! MOTHERFUCKERS!" Hershel's head screams as he flies off towards the horizon.
The nuclear bomb goes off and completely incinerates Woodbury and the surrounding area. The Governor's term has come to an end.