Well, we met on the Internet and everything was going great. After dinner we went back to his place and he held my eyes open with a couple of those Clockwork Orange clamps and then...nothing...a drizzle at best. It was terrible. He tried drinking a bottled water, some caffeine pills, nothing like the scalding fire hose of eye piss he promised on his bio.
File this one under "Sounded Good at the Time." I have a feeling the instant that jaw goes pop things are going to take a turn.
There's no easy way to put this, so I'll tell it like it is. Bouillon is died. He went missing before the weekend and yesterday I found his skeletonized remains at the bottom of the #3 soup vat during one of my swims. I thought the cream of mushroom soup had an especially nourishing taste, and a lot more clumps of fur and skin than usual.
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