Amy, you are one stupid and sexy bitch.

"Do you wanna see it?" She asks me, teasing coyly. She's talking about her hard, wet vagina.

"Yeah I wanna see it," I say. I'm talking about her hard, wet vagina.

"Why did you arrest me again, bayybeee?" she asks, grinding her ass against the bars on her cell. "Tell me why you arrested me, big boy."

"I arrested you to see that vagina," I say, in the manliest voice I can muster. "Now let's see that vagina. Before I arrest you again!"

"Ohohoho!" she growls! She wants me to know she's toying with me. "Maybe if you put your big bulgie-wulgies against the bars I can use my thicc mudflaps for a little beef jerkies, huh? Then I'll ***show*** it to you."

"You'd better show me that vagina you stupid sexy bitch," I say, grinding her logwedge through them bars like a hotdog at a chilidog contest. "You'd better show me that vagina of your after I grind my sausasage against your American Justice System."

"Oh yeah. You like that don't you babe? My hot sweaty American Justice System against your throbbing sexual penis."

"Yeah but you like it more than I do!" I say, my manliness at capacity like an upscale golfclub in the face of commoners. "You're a woman and I'm a man!"

"Yes!" She pants, lifting her tails over her pants and bending over. Dragging her skirt up her back. She's not wearing any panties, and neither am I.

As I bend towards her gaping fishwound, the smell slaps me in the face like that bad piano wire in the movie The Haunting 1999.

There it is, just before me. Her genital tulip.
The mound that throbs and pulsates just inches before me. Emanating a stink - her stink. The stink the glandz in her vagina makes when she's hornier than a hedgehog what's covered in horns.

The nectar from her oily rosebud smells like a dead fish dipped in motor oil, and I'm so fat in my groin I could fuck the ribs out of a farmcow.
That's right, it's hard. It's possibly harder than it's ever been. And the harder it is, the bigger it is, the more manly it is. The more manly I become, the faster I impregnate her and the better my sex is! YES!

I can't take it anymore. I'm like a starving man to a glass of water, or blood to a vampire. Or Tails to my own breathing cum. I hungerily bite into her mound apple like that stupid bitch from the holy yard of god.
It's forbidden, and that's why the glandz in my anus glisten like a Sailor Moon costume exchange. I lick with authority, taking laps like a track runner as my tongue hungrily digs through the dried crust on the surface of her furry flesh. Tongue flicking upward, shoveling her unwashed essants down the back of my throat, like when you guzzle the salt from a bag of vinegar chips.

"Oh! Sonic! Sonic your COAT looks so good on you! I'm! I'm cumming!"

The peehole in her clytorious sprays me in the face with cumjuice, and I snort it like sweet rock yummies through the hopes and dreams of the poor. (Author's Note: That means cocaine through a hundred dollar bill.)

"Yeah girl," I say licking the slime from her ass hairs. "Tell me how god I look in my coat."

"You look like someone important in that COAT," that dirty little minx caterwauls. "You look like someone who manages a dry cleaning service, and retained the property of your most rich customer when they forgot their ticket in their COAT, the COAT you stole from them and are currently wearing! WAAAHHHHHH!"

I wipe the goo from my chin and stand erect as my penis, the penis attached to me that is currently erect.
"Yeah girl. How do you like it? From the pumper to the dumper or from the stick to the sick?"

"Oh Sonic I-"

"Jesus Christ what the fuck is going on here," Tom the Cop says, bewildered and in mild to extreme disbelief.
Knuckles is with him, snickering like the goddamn circus clown his mother signed him up to be when she opted out of using a condom the very night he was conceived.

"I'm visiting the prisoner," I tell him, eyes shifting over to the prisoner, who is pulling up his pants still, somehow. "What does it look like?"

"It looks like you were eating Dr. Robotnik's ass out through the bars of a jail cell while he was wearing a pink wig and a couple of fake foxtails."

"Jee Sonic, when I said you could visit the prisoner, I didn't mean this!"

"I don't like what you're implying, fella," I say prodding Tom the Cop in his heart shelter with a hand stiffer than a board and harder than Old Yeller. "I aint done that gay stuff in a long time, at least a year. What words you are making at me are slanderous, and I won't sit for it. Or stand for it. And I damn sure won't lay down for it! None of it! Around me! Ever!"

"I walked in on him watching you, dude, there are cameras in every corner of this room."

I freeze. Never before have I been this angry at a human being. Other animals? Yeah, those things suck ass. But a human being? The tall, fleshy, lovable dunderheads?
No. He's gone too far. "You've gone too far."

"I'm sure he didn't mean it," Tom tries to calm me down over Knuckles's cackling. "It was my fault, really, I shouldn't have-"

"Your fault?" I ask, admittedly unhinged. "YOUR fault? YOU are GODDAMN RIGHT, it was your fault. This is an invasion of privacy! I did NOT agree to to to," I gesture wildly, "be VIDEOCAMERA'D."

"There are signs everywhere stating that you're being watched, security cameras are kinda standard issue in these kinds of places."

"Sonic, I told you they were watching when you asked me to put on the costumes," Robotnik says out of turn and out of line.

"I could have you DISBARRED, Tom the Cop, DISBARRED FOR WHAT YOU'VE DONE."

"I'm not on the bar," Tom the Cop says. "I'm a cop. Tom the Cop."

"Wai- WAIT!" Knuckles says, trying to catch his breath."Does he make you call him Amy or Tails?!"

"He doesn't make me do anything."

"You know what I mean," Knuckles says, catching his breath on his knees. "You know what I mean. Out with it." He gestures towards himself. "Come on. Give it to me."

Robotnik looks at me and shrugs before looking back at Knuckles. "Depends. Seems kinda arbitrary, if I'm being completely honest."

Knuckles begins guffawing again, and his laughter snaps something inside me.

"I'm off that stuff," I say, clenching my jaw and my fists and my anus.

"Excuse me?" Tom the Cop asks, blinking.

"I HAVEN'T DONE GAY THINGS IN AWHIIIIIIIIIIIILE!"

And that's when my emotions clash with my psychic ability and I inflate into a Cronenberg fleshed baby and absorb all of Station Square.