Sonique slammed the food down. It wasn't really food because the meat was formed from fetuses and the bread was made of headless chickens making love to little ponies made from marshmellows. But it was still food.
"Knackles, if you stop licking that emerald we'll starve and no one shall slaughter everyone and their gods in the universe!"
"I am not Knickles." The ancient furry dropped some of the galaxies he juggled. "The power has shifted. I am Kneckles of the Republican clan."
He flexed one of his arms made of nuclear missiles and punched a planet so that its population of inbred chinamen lost their beards.
Sonique gave a glance towards the chili dog made of manflesh that had suddenly appeared in her hand. Hideous and beautiful moans emanated from its moist folds. She was hungry. She looked at a nearby cup. It had wizards laying on the bottom. She thought about weed.
Her thoughts came into being. Jesus stood before her, his mighty penis shining with the power of a billion suns.
"Jesus, why haven't you called me? I have a fantasy about a bottle of chocolate sauce, a turkey baster, 3 raw eggs, and an Easter basket. What I did that one day was unforgivable I know, but I need your dirty club in my butthole, and I can't stand it any longer! Jesus, please forgive me! Amen."
"You are forgiven."
She leaned over and started frenching with the Lord, and the homosex caused Pluto to turn to mush. Why? Because it did.
Kneckles was turned on.