Rob Halford used to be hell bent for leather. Now he's just hell bent for fine smoking tobacco.
Seriously though, that is one bitchin' pipe. It looks like something straight out of the gayest Sherlock Holmes novel ever.
"There is no way Lord Hightower could have committed this heinous murder", spoke Holmes as he drew a long puff from his pipe.
"But Holmes!" said I, "What about the evidence? Clearly his Lordship is implicated!"
"If I may draw your attention to the victim," remarked Holmes "you'll note that the buttplug in the late John Winston's tight twink cum hole was manufactured in Devonshire and by the freshness of this lube, I'd say it was fabricated no later than the 3rd of March."
"And his Lordship was traveling abroad in the States on that date!" I cried. "By Jove Holmes, the eyewitnesses from the bathhouses his Lordship frequented on his journey alone are enough to prove his innocence!"
"That, my dear Watson, is elementary."
After years of being misunderstood, I had hoped we finally had "our" story. I was wrong.
He had a yellow inflatable tube around his waist, the kind with a comical duck head. There was a tiny fish in one of his hands, and a trident in the other. In the background a squirrel wearing shades was water skiing.
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