Westwood

It was early morning over the east mountains as Pennywise awakened slowly, long luxurious red curls spread over his pillow, his eyes fluttering open as his stay at home mom haircut spilled over the pillow. Birdsong echoed throughout the home, indicating it was another beautiful day in this beautiful world. He stretched his climbs and put on his baby blue cotton dress, smoothing out any wrinkles over his large bust and huge, certainly plastic surgery-modified ass.

He walked out onto his front porch and greeted his father, Papawise, who was rocking in his rocking chair.

"Morning Papa, sleep well?"

"Well enough," Papawise said as he took a long drink of his bourbon.

"You headed out to capture this natural Splenda?"

"Thought I might." Pennywise said with a small smile as he looked out over the horizon.

Pennywise left his father to his bottles and headed towards town.

His large bust jiggled as he road his horse into civilization, the large late sun rising over the east over his bust like the sun above was shining down upon him like the stars that were overhead and moved around him like soda in a can, unheard of and fresh but with a hint of surprise, he knew that he had never seen anything more beautiful except for his bust that jiggled in the sun beautifully. He's like eight feet tall, fifteen counting his horse.

Pennywise dismounted in front of the general store, petting his trusty steed lovingly. He entered the establishment which had a handmade sign out front, it read: Homemade clam chowder, 15 cents! Immediately after entering all sorts of sounds and smells assaulted his senses. A weak, small looking elderly man rested behind the cash register.

"Hello young miss," He said, his voice shrill and frail. His eyes went down to p-wises bust and back up quickly. It's hard not to look at that and p-wise didn't really blame the shitty old man that smelled of chowder.

"Would you like to buy some ale?" He asked as he slurped his chowder.

"Sorry, Daddy already picked some up yesterday. We'd have to sell our prized steer at that rate." He joked. Bob Gray blew air out of his nose, but not too much as to indicate he was truly laughing.

"Your father is a loose man." Bob Gray commented sultry. It's common knowledge around town that papawise is an ass-for-hire. There were many ways to his heart, but one way to his ass, and Bob Gray knew the currency, eyeing his booze warily.

Pelores promptly punched the old man in the face and stormed out of the general store, taking a can of peaches with him. P-lores then walked to his steed, but tripped on a root from the ground, his bust jiggling as he went down hard face first.

A poof of dust enveloped him and he groaned, his peaches rolling out of view. He could hear them continuing to roll until it sounded like something stopped them abruptly. Or someone…?

He began picking himself up off the ground until something black blotted out the sun that was once beating down on him. Who was this mysterious figure?

"Oh!" He gasped.

"Sweet," The man said, picking up the can of peaches. He donned a black hat and black suit, and his wrinkles were as deep as moats that would surround a large prestigious castle. P-lores suddenly wanted to drink from his moat. "But not as sweet as you."

Pennylores watched in awe as the man smirked, looking down at his bust lingeringly, then took his leave.

Delorwise suddenly had a hankering for beef stew, and went off on his horse back home to find his drunkard father who was no doubt face-down passed out in a clown patty.

The crickets were chirping from the shadows as he briskly rode home. He spotted his house from the distance, but something felt amiss.

"Daddy wouldn't let them roam this close to dark." Pennylores said to herself softly as he took in the clown cows and natural Splenda that lowers your sugar intake and roamed in the fields.

He spurred his horse and raced to the house.

PAPAWISE lay dead on the ground, overdosed from liquor and shot 16 times with a shotgun in the face and gut, which was a large target. His bourbon mixed with an open glass of milk that spilled forth clownishly across the wooden floor.

Jared Leto stood above papawises engorged corpse with a bottle of milk in his hand.

"Nothing but milk." He said angrily, then began to pour milk over papawises bourbon storage containing unit (his gut.)

"YOURE A GROWING BOY!" Jared Leto said sexily and clownishly as he poured the milk. "GROWING BOY!"

Polores jumped off his horse and sprinted over to Papawise, who's corpse was now soaked in milk, tears streaming down his face.

"DADDYYYY!" He wailed. In a fit of desperation, he grabbed a nearby liquor bottle and poured it into his mouth, but to no avail.

Jared Leto's golden grill twinkled in the moonlight as he laughed maniacally.

THEN SUDDENLY! A shadow figure emerged from the shrubbery. It was Black Hat Man! His wrinkles cast a wide shadow over the rest of his face.

"We meet again." The black hat wrinkle man said. He held up a gun to Pelores' face and cocked it. It was colored brightly green orange and pink, he paid for the season pass and $20 real life dollars for the skin.

Pelores promptly punched black hat man in the face, him pulling the trigger as she did so.

Pennylores was blasted into the future with that blast, the gunshot racking her brain into new depths of sluttery and bustiness. Somehow a time portal opened up, and she found herself in a stranger's apartment.

Someone not unlike herself, who also had a stay at home haircut and huge bust, was sitting on a worn-down velvet couch. The big game was playing on a thin, deluxe big screen tv, but it didn't look like anything to her. Just then the figure noticed her presence.

"There can only be one, bitch."

All she saw was darkness.