Excerpt 3

Hank:
What are composite trees? Well that’s simple, you docile little slut. Generally speaking they’re a cypress, aspen blend used primarily in gymnastics for the uneven bars and such. I’m pretty sure they were invented in the Eternal city by a man that lived with his family in some old turret.

Chula:
Pardon me if I interpose Hank, but you look a little stiff. Is it the noise factor from that “Girls Gone Wild” commercial, or is it otherwise inexplicable?

Hank:
I apologize Chula, but I’m fantasizing about using a bean stalk right now, and only the Penates alone are keeping me from devouring that girl there and the rest of the wolf pack she runs around with. If you cohabit with me long enough you’ll learn that though I may look solemn, my hormones are like a raging bus. Now hand me the manual so I can figure out how to inflate this stoop ball.

Chula:
Hank do you realize that right now, down at the dry-dock, one of our offspring is having relations with a mannequin he picked up at the five-and-ten…and those things usually don’t have limbs!

Hank:
Well he’s clearly no diplomat, but there’s no need for moral decree. Not everyone can be as well put together as that four hundred day clock over there. I’m quite certain with a little vigilance we can parch him of his craving for mannequin love.

With that being said, Chula threw a slice of rasher on the griddle and proceeded to doff her evening gown. Though he found the sight quite offensive, he made love to her anyway in a manner that could only be found in heroic verse.