"Takato-san-sama-chan-uh-oni", the mustard yellow dog thing said as she wiped the boy's dank semen from her surgically enhanced lips.
The digital creature had her 1s and 0s edited by the lonliest jabba tech junkie she could find. The edited code gave her some pretty rad tits, a fetus factory, and a poop pumper, but didn't remove her gross bendy legs, to all their own I guess.
Anyways, the teenage boy, his horse cock "stumpy cumberbatch", and Renamon had enjoyed a night-long lay down of the upmost primal and deranged fashion. A super sweaty slam fest of doggy style, missionary, good time 69, and the Busterdrillonator. The room's walls almost burst with the oniony scent Takato's sweaty grundle emitted. The sheets had been wrecked to all ruin, holy shit, and you could even hear the bedframe's futile cries for help.
"I love the smell of wet dog in the morning", Takato lit his cigarette and blew the smoke in a sweet ring shape. His sick sunglasses gleamed and shone uncomfortably in his eyes, making him squirm in a pretty lame way.
Renamon blocked the sun when she mounted Stumpy Cumberbatch for another danky dance.
"I hear there's gonna be an eclipse today...", Godammit.
"And I hear there's gonna be a lunar landing.", Takato replied. Their hips started bouncing and swaying and smashing and crashing and thrashing so hard your grandmother would have to be hospitalized. You should visit her sometimes, it gets lonely. Asshole.
As Takato and Renamon were about to climax in unison like synchronized swimmers fuckin somehow, the window shattered and three just fuckin massive Krogans flew into the room. The bat-lizard meatheads watched as man and his more-than-best-friend cried out in ectasy, the room soon filled with the small tablets. Don't do drugs kids.
"Renamon, I've been looking for you ever since that night on Eden Prime.", the leading krogan said, his gloved finger prodding in her general direction.
"You left me there, angry, lonely, angry, sad, and angry!", his growl ruptured Takato's ear drum and he died.
"Now that I'm free, why don't we continue where we left off?", the vixen gave him the fuck me eyes.
"Yes I will, and you'll be generous enough to allow my battlemaster, Dick Cheese, and my krant, Ruptured Rectum, to join me." Dick Cheese and Ruptured Rectum smiled and rolled out their throbbing fat dicks like a couple of Autobots. Optimus would be proud.
As the krogan cockfest continued to combat Renamon's cuddly cock sock, a rather strong and grody stench started to flood the bedroom of the penthouse.
"What the hell?" The leading krogan said. He pulled out and accidentally impaled his ally, Ruptured Rectum. With his massive dick, just to clarify. Unfortunately, this happened as the leading krogan climaxed, so Ruptured Rectum's ruptured guts started filling with krogan cum. Bleh. He inflated and burst like a balloon, the sperm exploded outwards like tiny high caliber bullets, killing his impaler. Dick Cheese chuckled and finished the job.
As he pulled out his putrid penis, the wall smashed down and a piece of it it struck him on the head, he died too.
"This is MY swamp." the ogrelord bellowed. The great Shrek looked down at Renamon, as she unleashed a torrent of krogan love onto the brand new carpet, to avoid death by IBP, Inflation-Ballon-Popping. Its a very serious condition resulting in the deaths of one-in-sixty krogan females. Please donate at , or call 1-800-faggot.
"It's... it's..."
"All ogre now..." the jolly green giant hushed Renamon as he placed his smelly sausage fingers over her lips, and I don't mean the ones on her head.
The great ogre released the kraken, His big green shwang crashed onto the bed. It was girthy enough to be used as an ironing board when He did His laundry on Sundays. A thick goo oozed from the tip of His one-eyed-snake, it's rank onion smell hypnotized Renamon. It may have actually killed brain cells but that isn't a fetishy thing now is it faggot?
He scooped up His bangerang with His hot musclely arms and lined it up with the rather small in comparison hole that was in fact Renamon's new vagina.
He thrust it forwards like a Lord of the Rings battering ram and that was the last of the mustard dog, her fleshy giblets raining like men in that one song.
He roared like Simba feeling the love tonight and flew off into infinity.
The End.