Autistic Wooly Gimp
A Short Story
by Kiroy
Wooly Gimp looked at the phallic gun in his hands and felt salty.
He walked over to the window and reflected on his Underwater surroundings. He had always loved Beautiful Bikini Bottom with its cool, cautious Coral. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel salty.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Donald Trump. Donald was an autistic god king with fluffy hair and small hands.
Wooly gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was an autistic, diving, brandy drinker with hairy knuckles and a curvy spine. His friends saw him as an attractive, amused autistic. Once, he had even jumped into a river and saved a beautiful coral reef.
But not even an autistic person who had once jumped into a river and saved a beautiful coral reef, was prepared for what Donald had in store today.
The wind teased like crying whale sharks, making Wooly buttmad.
As Wooly stepped outside and Donald came closer, he could see the diced glint in his eye.
Donald glared with all the wrath of Donald's autistic wasteful smile. He said, in hushed tones, "I hate you and I want destroy the ocean."
Wooly looked back, even more buttmad and still fingering the phalic gun. "Donald, you are not real," he replied.
They looked at each other with sad feelings, like two sweet, scary salty whale sharks at a very autistic election, which had indie music playing in the background and two autistic uncles salty to the beat.
Wooly regarded Donald's fluffy penis and ruddy hair. "I feel the same way!" revealed Wooly with a delighted grin.
Donald looked suicidal, his emotions blushing like a klutzy, knobbly knife.
Then Donald came inside for a nice glass of brandy.
THE END
Rest now sweet prince, you will be missed.
