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WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain very strong language, drug usage, graphic violence, or graphic sexual content. Reader discretion is advised. |
Dead things weren't quite his favorite thing to roll in but they were pretty fuckin' close. His absolute favorite thing was horse or mule shit but well he'd found this racoon and it seemed a complete shame to waste it, recycling and all that jazz that Ronnie was always brashing on about. It was a ripe one too, the flies and maggots had done a good job and the juices were flowing. Perfect.
Like the completely disgusting canine that he was, John rolled around on top of the dead animal, smearing it about and making sure to get a liberal covering all over himself. Wouldn't the ladies just love him when he returned to the camp place where his brother was building a village. He'd be the hottest stallion in the stables.
Staggering to his feet, John shook his rust colored body and flung bits of gore all about himself. Covered in bits and pieces of things that many would rather not think about, John thought about all of it and then some, his tongue lolling from his mouth.