"Super Grover To The Rescue!" by Abraxas 2010-09-02
Once upon a time Grover was the King of the Street. All of the little boys and girls wanted to be friends with Grover. And they smiled and they laughed as they watched Grover's adventures. Everyone was happy in those happy good days.
Until a cloud settled on the Street.
A cloud in the shape of Elmo!
A pair of fuzzy blue hands clutched the helmet. Dust fell off of its metal. How many decades it sat, unused, he could not say. He found it only by accident after he sold everything at eBay. There it was, sitting atop the cape, fresh like the day it was retired.
Everybody, every boy and girl on TV, wanted to be his friend - his friend!
Grover cried a tear out of a jumpy, crazy eye.
The days of Super Grover flying, Super Grover rescuing the frog, Super Grover this, Super Grover that were gone - yet - he donned the outfit. To spite everything that the world became after Elmo. It was time for one, last adventure.
He was, always, a very patient monster. He believed the Reign of Elmo was simply a fad - like those days they sniffed pigeons and crack. After a while children were bound to get tired of that dumb high pitched voice.
"Stupid! Fucking! Red! Shit-head! Muppet!"
He flung a bottle of #7 against a wall where it shattered into a million little pieces.
But...Elmo did not go away. And the Street suffered more and more because of it. The upstart stole fans and dumbed them and dumbed them and soon everything reflected what Elmo offered.
The world became stupid. Oscar - forced into therapy. Cookie - became diabetic. The Count was stripped of his thunder and lightning. Because it scared Elmo.
Grover walked into the bedroom.
There was the fucking red monster tied to the corners of the bed and gagged.
"Once upon a time Grover was the King of the Street," he whispered into the muppet.
Elmo looked about the chamber still dazed and confused. The apartment was empty. Undecorated. Unadorned. Except the murals of red scribbled along the walls. A mural dedicated to death. Foreshadowing what was to become.
All around came the ruckus of the party upstairs along with the sounds of Ernie's and Burt's beds creaking in rhythm.
Grover crawled atop Elmo - the blue monster pressed its knees against the red monster. He groped the captive's ass and found its seam. He tore the stitches wide until stuffing popped out of the wound. Unable to scream the captive's body writhed against the restrained - and the resistance made Grover grow longer and harder.
Laughing - eyes jumping around and around - he pressed his cock into the asshole he clawed out of Elmo.
"Do you want a little fuck or a big fuck?"
Elmo uttered something like a scream and Grover almost exploded right then and there.
"Broil a biggie Charlie!"
Grover shoved his cock into Elmo feeling with glee his tool tear into stuffing. He felt, too, the monster's inner fear. It only spurred his frenzy of pounding. Blue fur. Against. Red fur. Little sparks of static flying about. He thrust faster, deeper until the bed collapsed.
Burt shouted he was cumming as Ernie screamed about a banana stuffed and smashed. All the while Grover bit into the back of Elmo's neck until the head fell off.
The blue cock poked out of the red neck and fired off a stream of stuffing.
He took Elmo's head by the fur. The gag slipped. The mouth twitched. The eyes shook.
"This angry sex was brought to you by the letters F and U and the number sixty-nine!"
Then Grover impaled the head by the maw on the body's own stuffed cock.
A bottle of #7 was poured onto the muppet and lit.
Grover walked down the alley. There was no going back. The Street - it was finished. With a pocket of money he shuffled out of the city. A muppet on the run like a fugitive. A happy muppet. A free muppet!
"Sunny days, sweeping the clouds away..."
END