Joe took off his Sons of Anarchy leather jacket. His rolls were rippling in the Fall air, and the cool fifty degree day brought torrents of sweat down his beefy thorax.

"Looks like we'll just have to do something about this, redditard," he said shrugging out of his size forty-eight jean shorts. He pulled a jar down from the top of a cabinet, a hiding place for only the most scandalous things. You see that the jar is labeled CHILD SPIT. "Maybe I'll let you go down on me, maybe I won't. But you're in for one hell of a goatee ride, libtard."

Like Pooh rummaging through a jar of honey, chubby fingers scoop the spit out of the crust covered jar. His fingers find your ass, and he turns you around and puts you against a table. You get a better look at the room. Blue Oyster Cult is watching, seated at the table you're pressed up against.

Joe starts eating your ass. It's not passionate, it's grazing like a stupid lazy cow would. You spray liquid shit into his mouth to get him away from you, but this only makes him rub his stomach with a free hand and start making satisfied yummy noises.

Blue Oyster Cult starts making slash motions against their throats. Joe, retarded and shit and child spit drunk takes no notice. A roadie for Blue Oyster Cult pulls Joe away from your ass and finishes the way a professional would.

Joe walks around the room with his hands raised over his head proclaiming victory. Blue Oyster Cult declare that Carol is not wife material, but Joe, shit and child spit drunk, starts scrolling reddit. He doesn't take his eyes away from the phone for the next seventeen hours. Layla never makes it to school.