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.

.

.

"You know, I really wasn't pumped for this one, Amy, I gotta tell ya. But I cooked up some hand sanitizer and I gotta say, I think this is the greatest thing I've ever done."

"You're fucking insane, Sonic."

"No, seriously, I feel great. Weighted. Grounded, you know?" Sonic gyrates his hips in a limited sense, slapping the severed head's paling cheeks vigorously against his inner thighs.

"Your dick is literally nailed to a severed head of some floozy."

"Amy. She has a name. Had a name. It was Rouge. And she asked for this."

"Oh. Thank you, Sonic. She has a name. It was ROUGE! Haha! I'll remember that while I'm cleaning up after her giant tittied corpse that literally shit diarrhea through her spandex onto the kitchen floor! By the way, I fucking hate to thank you for anything, but Jesus Christ, thank you for doing it on the linoleum in the kitchen instead of on the rug in the living room, or the bed, for fuck's sake."

"You're totally welcome! I'm always looking out for you, babe."

Amy sighs audibly. "Would you mind explaining this shit to me, please?!"

"I remember it as if it were a few hours ago, because it was," Sonic sez, drool dripping from his comatose smile. "It was all her idea - she texted me, you see, and she asked me what I was up to. I told her I was pooping and she asked if she could come over, only she spelled come like cum like see-you-em. Cum. Weird, right?"

"Knowing you, no, not really."

"So like 'can I cum over?' can like can and I like me not like ee-why-ee, you know."

"Why would- nevermind."

"So she comes over and cums over twelve times you know what I'm saying? Ha! Haha!"

"I sincerely doubt that. You probably smoked hand sanitizer and went limp inside of her."

"I'm the one telling the story, Amy. Me. Me Sonic, you Amy. You tell story? No, Amy. No Amy no tell story Amy."

"What are you doing? Please stop stroking yourself."

"Batfur is soft. Nnnh."

"I'm surprised you can feel that fine through your gloves but not the, you know, nails in your dick."

"Perception is a funny thing, aint it?"

"Whatever you say. Finish your stupid story."

"No. Wait, okay. Where was I?"

"You smoked hand sanitizer and went limp inside a hooker."

"Right. The condom fell off and I was worried I got some sort of bat disease on my genitals. I started screaming. And so did she."

Sonic and Rouge scream at each other for an inordinate amount of time.

"Do you really have to narrate this in third person?"

Please don't distract me by breaking the fourth wall. Rouge stops screaming and she starts tugging at Sonic's shirtsleeve.

"You don't wear shirts."

So I stopped screaming. I mean, Sonic stops screaming. He grabs her by her shoulders and pulls her in close. She asked if I had ever tried E and I asked if I could pee in her. I mean, Sonic asks if I can pee in her. If Sonic can pee in her.

Stuffing his limp squishturkey into her babyhole, he lets out a vile stream of urine. He hasn't peed in as long as he can remember, and it come out as thick and strong as an icicle, and as yellow as a coward.

The pee fills her womb and there starts the fixins of a mutant baby - so she gets an enemabortion on the couch. That's like an enema and an abortion all at once.

"I fucking knew you ruined something, Sonic, Christ."

Seriously, you're confusing me. Did I tell you I tried E for the first time? E is good. Batfur is soft. That's what Sonic was thinking as he leaned forward and asked Rouge the question that would change his life - both of their lives forever. "Do you like dicks?"

"Yah I like dicks."

"How much you like dicks?"

"Like a lot."

"Like a lot, a lot?"

"Like bunches and bunches and bunches."

"How do you like THIS dick?"

"I'd like it better if it was nailed to my forehead."

And that's when the E kicked in, Amy. That's when the E kicked in and she pulled out a nailgun from nobody could say where. Nobody except maybe Rouge. And Rouge is dead. Well, not yet. Soon.

Sonic cooks up some more hand sanitizer in a greasepan over her head. As he inhales those freeing noxious fumes, he notices something odd about this behavior - his dick is still hard. Hard like Taylor Lautner's abs. Hard like circa 90's Stallone's neck. Hard like the stone Dumbledore slept on in The Count of Monty Crisco. Like diamonds in the muff. For all in tents, and porpoises.

It was a fist in the anus of god. The electricity coursing through the gun of nails, the throbbing member he thunked gingerly against the forehead and the bridge of here nose.

"A-are you sure about this?" Sonic asks timidly, the energy of the cosmos coursing through his veins and dick.

.

"More sure about this than anything else I've experienced in my whole life."

He pressed the nailgun hard against the tip of his moist, throbbing penis and moaned slightly and pulls the trigger.

"You keep changing tenses."

Shut the fuck up. The first nail sent a scream from Sonic's belly to his uvula, dangling it just so as it dingles and dangles. Wiggles and squirms.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA"

Her face went mentally challenged and not retarded, because I am not an ableist. Though you could could consider having a severed head nailed to your head a disability. Who's ableist now, huh? WHO'S ABLEIST NOW?!

"Jesus fucking Christ, Sonic, shut the fuck up and finish your story you goddamn scumbag."

Rude. Anyway, she started twitching when I, I mean Sonic, nails his ballsacs to her cheeks and dragged her by the dick to the kitchen, which was a slow, careful, and excruciating process. Sonic was beginning to get soft, as she cooed her soft mating call.

"Uwaugh," she said, drooling uncontrollably onto the carpet, slapping her hands abnormally against herself and the floor. "Uwaaaaauuuuugggghhhhh."

After what seems like an eternity her body goes limp on the linoleum and his desperate hand finds the butcher's cleaver. And that's when he carefully whacks away at her neck, careful to avoid his own junk and nail hers square on the neck.

"And that, Amy Rose, was the end of Rouge the hooker. I mean bat."

"You really are a piece of work, Sonic the hedgehog."

"You love me."

"Yeah, and?"

"Are they hungry?"

"Shut up," she says, playfully smacking his dick, the head bobbing between his legs, gurgling from the open neck.

"Are they?"

She tries to hide her rose colored cheeks behind her gloved hands. "Maybe."

"Let them feed."

She laughs, embarrassed. Looks away. Looks back up at him. Laughs again. Amy Rose unbuttons her blouse and unveils her naked boobs. The tiny hole on the center of each nipple stretches into a yawn, a dry tongue licking the newly formed lips, smacking against the roofs of the mouths of her newly awakened breasts to generate moisture. Teeth behind the nipplelips chomping hungrily as they clothes in on the flesh of the bat's severed head, licking and tearing away at her drained cheeks and the back of her head.

"I love you, Sonic."

Sonic smirks, proud of himself as he watches Amy's breasts hungrily feed on the carrion portion dangling from his manhood. Those beautiful eyes, that bright smile.

"I love you, too, Amy Rose."

Backpack, backpack - 2017