Today we open with an oddity...Jiraiya's story. He constantly pens scripts for various novels and the like; you know the deal. Naruto sits before a favorite tree within Konoha, having just been handed the prototype play script by his pervy-sensei. Naruto was fully aware of the subject matter Jiraiya touched upon and I'm sure you are too. He eagerly began at the title with a heart full of whimsy:

"My Husband Yelled at Me because I was a Bisexual-Lesbian-Homophobe with Toeskin of Iron."

Naruto began to read.

~

"Mommy!", hollered the little boy. "Gimme a cookie!" His mother slaved over a bucket-full of onions on the counter, cutting them in an abysmal slump. "No honey, we don't have any cookies." said the mother. "But mama, Joel has some next door and we ALL KNOW his family can only afford bacon! He got that cookie from YOU, this I'm sure of." The mother ignored her fussy child and continued to chop the leeks. Peering over her shoulder, she could see the mess that lay strewn about the apartment. A pile of dirty laundry fermented in the catbox, while bananas were scattered on the couch. Without warning, a digusting cranefly dropped out of her bonnet and collided upon the bleach left on the floor previously. "MAH GOD! GET ME OUT!" The mother could hear that cranefly...screaming...kicking...melting...teleporting into space and exploding in the third world. Maggots burst from the onion under her hand and her little boy was stuck in the sink. "GET ME OUT!", he screamed. Mother tossed that knife into the fridge and pulled her boy out of that rotten cat's mouth. Oddly enough, that cat was huge. Big enough to get confused with the sink! She rescued her son, only to toss him into the closet thereafter.

"Honey, I'm home!", shouted the mother's husband. He walked into the apartment, free from his dead-end job at Gramma's House-Fist of Consumables. The mother broke down into a horrible fit of misery, using that enormous cat as a makeshift couch. "Oh my wife, whatever is the matter?", inquired her husband. "My life is horrible." she said. "I'm here cooking all day...for who? Nobody. No one eats my food. You come in everyday and go to sleep. After that, I'm forced to clean the cat's ridiculous bung-fest of malacious colonic heavings while our son plays with dolls in the backyard. The BACKYARD. Don't you know, we don't HAVE a backyard! This accursed apartment backs-up to a BIOHAZARD DISPOSAL FACILITY!" the mother screamed. "Look around us. There are bananas on the couch...the cat's LIVING in our bathtub, and old man Hopscotch won't get off of our table! He invites his friends over for STRIP-POKER and you know what? Do you know what? They call in pizza and blow it up on the wall every night instead." The husband turned his head. Lint fell from his eyes, giving off signs of lifelessness and inexistance. Just like that the mother had thrown him upon the table. She jumped upon his chest, ripping the shirt of in the process. She produced a sharpie from her apron and drew a picture of Hitler on his hairy chest of manliness. Then she spit on it. "You disgust me!", the mother yelled. "I SPIT ON YOUR CHEST FOR IT IS AS REPULSIVE AS HITLER HIMSELF!"

The husband tried to get up, but he wasn't fast enough. She punched a hole through his gullet that impacted the floor, completely missing his belly and redirecting into the wall before them. A cascade of dirt showered onto the road below. After the dust cleared, the mother could see no signs of her husband. A note sat upon the dining room chair which read, "Sorry dear, it's about time I go. We've had a great time together and I'm sure you'll be missed. Love, Momma." The mother sighed and ate the note. She vomited a tulip and threw it at her cat. It ate the flower, only to leave the destroyed apartment as a revolting Telemarketer. With a slight creek, the closet door opened. "Mama!" cried the boy. The mother turned around. "I came out of the closet!" His dirty shorts were now a flowery skirt and his hair of filth now a bow-filled perm. He hugged his mother and their house deconstructed.

The End!

~

Naruto raised an eyebrow. "Ummm...Pervy Sage, what did I just read?", Naruto asked bewildered. "What's the matter? Everybody else that read my new script, "The Woman of The Lake", was simply brought to tears by the touching scenario. That's what you 'did' read, right? The Woman of The Lake?" Naruto handed the script to Jiraiya. His face immediately turned pale. "You were drunk, weren't you, Sensei?" asked Naruto. "Yeah...um..about that...don't tell anybody, okay? Just a secret between us guys, eh? And yes, I was drunk. No question about that." Naruto sighed. "Mm hm. I figured as much."

~EL END.