UNDER THE PEPPER TREE AND OTHER STORIES

Under the Pepper Tree - Dr. Julio Jabugo Guijuelo Gordales.

2006-10-22T02:34:00.000+02:00

IF THIS IS YOUR FIRST VISIT, PLEASE CLICK ON UNDER THE PEPPER TREE TO READ THE STORY FROM THE BEGINNING.

As the sun's first rays shafted the velvet pubescent dawn, El Diablo woke up in a skip outside FICEB. He was encrusted in George's liquid dump, some used condoms, rejected sex paraphanalia and rubble from a nearby building. He slowly stood up, pulled a purple butt-plug out of his arse crack and crawled out of the skip. George the Wild Boar was still unconscious and was brought to his senses abruptly with LD's impatient fist on his temple. With a vicious,pounding headache and an aching kidney, still sore from the 900k volts of the Streetwise stun gun, LD mounted the brimstone steed and headed towards Calle Caspe to meet Slippery Sally Clitsen. Being a Sunday morning , the streets of Barcelona were relatively quiet and traffic free. He arrived in Calle Caspe to find Sally collapsed outside the building in the doorway. Earlier that night she had resigned from the Barcelona 690 after the 655th penetration, too sore and bored to continue.

Sally had drunk a bottle of J&B whisky after FICEB and had passed out on the doorstep of her building. She lay on the ground, in a puddle of stale sweat, semen, piss and KY jelly. A gang of Chinese youths had seen her lying comatose on the ground in the early hours of dawn and had proceeded to piss on her huge tits as the final highlight to their night out. LD rang the bell and helped her into the building under the startled, conservative gaze of the portera. Leaving the portera to deal with her, he drank 9 cafe solos at a nearby bar, washed down with 3 large balloons of cheap Spanish brandy. He decided to go to the Cuitadella park at the end of the road. The sound of the million drums emanating from the park did nothing for his pounding head and as he entered, he staggered towards the Gaudi fountain, vomited violently into the water, and then wiped his mouth on George's head. ''Vant beer, sur ? '' said Bashira the Punjabi beer vendor, '' oanly 21 Grisul Juce''. LD turned around & snatched the six pack out Bashira's hand and pushed him into the dark green, slimy water of the fountain. ''Bluddy Baasturd,'' spluttered Bashira as he fell in. LD then found a somewhat secluded spot under a pepper tree and lay down to rest. He drank the six pack and dozed off. 2moro was a big day, as he had his appointment with Dr.Julio Gordales.

Doctor Julio Jabugo Guijuelo Gordales (Dr.Julio J.G.G ) was one of world's leading phalloplasty specialists. His Halloderm Derma-baculum matrix graft technique had brought him great fame and an 'A' list of clients, including various presidents and prime minsters. Dr.Julio was obssessed with his penis and had phalloplasted his bone to an absurd 28 cm yoghurt shooter, often flashing it at dinner parties to compete with the baguette on the table and get some business as well. His scrotum had two ruby studs shot into it and a tattoo on the shaft which read : The World is Yours. Dr.Julio was quite an Anglophile and had ''donated'' a lot of money to the Labour Party in the hope of an honorary peerage and recently offered free phalloplasty to Brown. He was an ardent paraphiliac and had a passion for buggering young duchesses as hard as he could, after submitting them to Krug champagne enemas. Doc.J was annoyed that he had to miss FICEB due to a phalloplasty conference in Geneva, as he ocasionally enjoyed displaying his knob at his stand as an advertisment for his skill and surgical ability. Having just returned from the airport, he headed to his penthouse on top of the Om Hotel. He was fitness freak who did 259 press-ups daily on his knuckles and had a 3rd dan in aikido. He showered, ordered some sashimi and a small jug of Sake and fell asleep impaling the rectum of some blonde Swiss chick he had seduced at the conference.

Gaspar 'Dinero' Robles was a foreman in an invernadero in El Ejido. He was a big barrel of a man with a filthy little moustache.... a vicious, sadistic bastard, who often beat the immigrant workers in the invernaderos with a lead-filled silver baseball bat. He had recently won millions in the El Gordo lottery, hence given the nickname 'Dinero' and decided to move to Marbella to flash his newly acquired cash and fuck a better class of whore. Now that he had money he decided to get a penis enlargement as his 4 incher was a constant source of embarassment in all the puti-clubs in the area. Having heard that Dr.Juilo J.G.G was the very best, Gas wanted to double his little pincho to 8 inches (20.32 cm ). Gaspar donned his finest white Versace suit, complete with a loud Versace shirt, a solid gold Versace medallion and a pair of white Gucci loafers. Puffing on a big, long Cohiba, he headed off to Barcelona in his new white Bentley Azure convertible, stopping at all the 'Clubs' on the way. Gaspar lived for whoring and had planned to keep some very expensive ones once his enhancement was successful and active. He was humming along to a Julio Iglesias song that was blaring out of the monster speakers he had installed in his Bentley, as he tore down the E-15 at 241 k.p.h

A Period of Gestation

2006-09-06T18:13:00.000+02:00

This blog is not dead. It's going through a period of gestation for the moment. Various factors, plus building a house and the last two months of desert heat have parched my creative juices dry, like a camel's rectum. There will be more tales and adventures of El Diablo shortly. Meanwhile there have been intermittent posts at Dancing with the Beggars in my Mind.

Under the Pepper Tree - Full Penetration in Barcelona

2006-03-06T15:16:00.000+01:00

The sky was a translucent cerulean tinged with a smattering of vermillion cirrus clouds. El Diablo, Slippery Sally Clitsen and George the Wild Boar (G.W.B.) were tearing down the highway towards Barcelona. LD had decided to stop at FICEB ( Festival Internacional de Cine Erotico de Barcelona ) as they had to drop off Slippery Sally who was a participant in the Barcelona 690. As they entered Barcelona heading for La Farga de L'Hospitalet, G.W.B was nodding his head to the 2 Live Crew song that was blaring out of the brimstone steed's DAB radio. '' ...you said it yourself, you like it like I do, put your lips on my dick and suck my asshole too...", a befitting entrance as they drove into FICEB.

Slippery Sally got off the steed and handed LD a V.I.P. pass . She told him to meet her later that night at the apartment lent to her on Calle Caspe. As she went in to prepare herself for the 690 performance, LD headed for the V.I.P. bar . Free cava was being passed around in the bar's enclosure. LD ordered a bottle of Chinaco Tequila and drank it all in one large swig. He ordered another, threw 1767 Gristle Juices on the bar and clutching the bottle, headed into the throng of the festival. Most of the people in the audience were men, armed with their digital cameras snapping the live blowjobs and playing pocket billiards. There were different stages setup arond the venue, some were live fuckshows with full penetration, some with stands selling sex-related paraphernalia like dildoes, butt plugs, butterfly vibrators, lube, arse beads, strap-ons, & cock rings, and some showing skin flicks. Slimy Sol had a condom stand in a corner and was handing out free samples with corporate logos stamped on them.

LD noticed that people were staring at them, despite the live fuckshows on the different stages all around. He looked down and saw Emshi Tuk Tuk's chewed-off hand still in GWB's mouth and quickly pulled it out. As he flung it away, it landed on the shaved, dripping delta of Debbie Dagmars' cooze, just before her 397th penetration on the 690 stage. Debbie Dagmars screamed loudly when she saw Tuk Tuk's dead hand plonk itself on her twadge and rushed off the stage in total hysteria. On another stage, a large crowd had gathered to watch Cocko Fuckready pistoning three girls up the arse in random rotation. As he saw El Diablo and GWB pass by, he carried on pumping and called out with a grin on his face : Ciao Diavolo, come stai ? Sempre cazzo duro ! Un cinghiale, ehh ! LD waved to him, thinking he would do anything to swop places with Fuckready, instead of being stuck up a stupid wild boar's arse. He sauntered through the crowds gulping down his tequila .

GWB's continual hunger had been placated by gnawing on Tuk Tuk's dead hand for the last 18 hours. He started whimpering again. LD: what the fuck now ? GWB: I'm hungry, gimme some empanadias or something to chew on. LD was getting very fed up with this situation in his life, a 127 kg porcine appendage chained to his chest. He grabbed a thick, mint flavoured jelly dildo from a nearby stand and shoved it in GWB's mouth. LD growled: Here, chew on this, fuckface ! In the distance he saw a stand with a sign marked " Doctor Julio Jabugo Guigelo Gordales - Leading Specialist in Phalloplasty. That's it ! : he thought and headed for the stand.

A young woman dressed in a white uniform was behind the stand talking to the various 'stars' that were making appointments for their annual service maintenance. As LD approached she eyed him up and down, and with a typical Catalan arrogance said: Bona Tarda . LD's Spanish was limited to one word. He replied : Joder ? She shook her head and said : Can I help ju ? LD : I need to see the Doctor. She : He's away at the moment, I make ju an appointment for Monday morning. LD returned to the V.I.P. bar for more tequila and sat down on a velvet sofa. He was bored with the scene. Normally he would have been up on a stage parading his monstrous baculum, engaged in some form of penetrative irruption. He had been a wild card invitee to previous festivals. He struck a match on his right ball, lit up a Cabrona and took another swig of Chinaco.

Las Chicharrones were a trio of silicon enhanced ''starlets '' who were making their debut at FICEB. They had been a big hit in the mud wrestling pit and were now guzzling copious copas of cava in the V.I.P bar. They saw G.W.B. and waddled across in a state of corybantic delirium. Hola guapo ! : said Peroxide, adjusting her gargantuan cleavage. LD smiled thinking they had come to check him out. His smile rapidly turned into a scowl when he realized that they were more interested in G.W.B. In their pickled cava soaked state they stroked G.W.B. under his snout thinking he was a big furry pet dog. George got all excited and started wriggling around with glee. In his excitement his sphincters muscles relaxed, releasing a peristaltic tidal wave, propelling a noxious, ochre liquid jet-stream of pent-up shit that poured into LD's lap and trickled down his leg onto the floor.

El Diablo was livid as this was the final straw. In his rage, he swung the half empty bottle of tequila hitting G.W.B. on the head with full force, rendering him unconscious. Las Chicharrones screamed and moved away from the sofa. The sound of shattering glass alerted the security guards who rushed towards LD and asked him to leave. A fight broke out as LD was in no mood for authority, loaded to the gills full of Chinaco and ready to release his frustration on the guards. He grabbed two of them and slung them across the bar. As he stood up he felt the two searing bursts of 900,000 volts on his neck and right kidney from the guard's Streetwise stun gun. Convulsing, he fell forwards through an ultramarine glass table, collapsed to the floor and passed out on top of George.

Under the Pepper Tree - current update in progress

2006-03-03T12:59:00.000+01:00

Due to travelling, illness, an abstinence of alcohol, a bout of depression, and a fucked up dial-up connection, the next update of Under the Pepper Tree has been delayed. It is in progress and will be posted in a few days.

Under the Pepper Tree - In Alicunte with Slippery Sally Clitsen

2006-02-09T22:51:00.000+01:00

4.04 a.m. Feb. 9/06 In Alicunte with Slippery Sally Clitsen

The sky was a deep viridian, bucketing rain followed by a vicious hailstorm. As hailstones the size of El Diablo's balls pelted down bouncing off George's head, he screamed : Look out ! The brimstone steed was hurtling down the highway at 217 m.p.h. as they hit a transgenic fluorescent pig crossing the road. El Diablo slammed on the brakes, and the steed hit the pig dead centre at 153 m.p.h. LD and George were pitched forwards and flew through the air for 17 seconds till they landed smack in the middle of a pile of green pig manure by the road side. A few minutes later LD slowly stood up and wiped some of the green pigshit off his eyes.The fall had resulted in a throbbing pain in his swollen dick and George was wailing as his rectum was further torn. Despite the imapct, his bulbous baculum was still firmly implanted deep in George's turd-chute. LD walked towards the steed which was lying on its side minus its exhaust pipe. He picked it up and tried to start it. It coughed once and then bellowed into life . Seeing a sign saying Alicunte 3 km, he decided to stop there for the night to rest.

LD entered Alicunte and drove down to the Esplanada in front of the marina. He parked the steed on the pavement oblivious of its eardrum splitting sonance and sat down at a cafe facing the sea. A cruise ship was in town and a gaggle of geriatric tourists had flooded the cafe and were eating "pai-ella". They shuddered at the sight of LD and George's arrival and tried not to gag on the horrendous smell of the green pigshit that they were plastered in. The waiter approached and LD ordered a bottle of Mescal. The waiter said : We don't have any, try Pacharan. LD: Ok, gimme a bottle of whatever the fuck that is . George ordered a Cuba Libre and was quite excited as he had never seen the sea before. In the distance a middle-aged man was walking his Afghan hound, dressed in a full sleeve white shirt, a pair of Y-fronts and blue slippers. George whistled at the dog who didn't bother responding. LD spotted Slippery Sally sitting at a nearby table drinking a mojito, reading the classifieds in the local paper. She caught his gaze and smiled, got up and headed towards their table.

Slippery Sally Clitsen had just had a tit job boosting her dags to a monstrous 38 FF. She been performing at the Cous Club in Torrevieja and was on her way to perform in a live fuckshow at FICEB ( Festival Internacional de Cine Erotico de Barcelona ) and was looking for a ride. She had an unfortunate sexual disorder when she was aroused. 13 litres of viscid lovejuice with a high pyridine concentrate would pour out of her vaginal epithelium resulting in a virtual tidal wave. The night she had tried to fuck El Diablo was a disaster as he slid out of bed in the fluid torrent of her deluge and had landed on the floor hitting his head on an empty Mescal bottle. Subsequently she had resorted to being hammered up the dung canal, doggystyle, as her slice was too slippery to penetrate and wore a lilac pair of ribbed rubber knee-pads to stabilize herself on the sodden mattress. Slippery Sally was wearing a miniscular white bikini top with her large 80% dark chocolate areolas peaking out at the sides, a pair of tight white cameltoe shorts and white Justin cowboy boots. She kissed LD on the mouth and smiling at George said : Hi LD. Who's your friend ? LD growled : Hey Sally, he's no friend, just some baggage I'm stuck in. George stuck out a paw and introduced himself. I'm George the Wild Boar (G.W.B)

Slippery Sally took them down to the Playa del Postiguet for a shower as the smell of the encrusted, dried pigshit was getting unbearable. She suggested that they go drinking in the Barrio to a little bar she knew which served pitchers of mojitos. As the Carnival was on, all the night's revellers thought LD was in fancy dress with George as a cool prop. LD had to crouch down low to get in as the door was only 3.5 ft high, a difficult task with a 127 kg. boar strapped to his chest. It was packed tight inside, hot and sweaty. LD drank jugfuls of mojitos while the others drank glassfuls, and when the barmaid realized that George was real, gave him free drinks all night long. At about 4.30 a.m. LD yawned and said he needed to collapse. You could sleep with me : said Slippery Sally, but it's a bit difficult with George. LD staggered out of the bar and headed for the Plaza Gabriel Miró. He sat down under the pepper tree and fell into a deep sleep.

He woke up with a start hearing a voice screaming close to his ear. LD : what the fuck is going on ? Thinking LD & George were drunk & fast asleep, Emshi Tuk Tuk, a thieving Algerian, took a chance to try and nick LD's wallet. George had spotted him from the corner of his beady little eye & turned to grab the hand holding the wallet in his mouth, biting down on it. Seeing his wallet in the hand in George's mouth, LD spat : You cunt ! He took a deep breath and unleashed a ball of flames at Tuk Tuk's face. Emshi screamed and shot backwards with such force that his hand came off in George's mouth. As Emshi rolled around on the floor in agony, his face on fire minus his right hand, LD said : we've gotta fuckin' split. He ran to the steed, jumped on, zoomed up to the bar Slippery Sally was being chatted up at, grabbed her and roared out of town into the pthalocyanine dawn.

Under the Pepper Tree - Pukey Pete Greeley's Pharmacy

2006-01-26T06:26:00.000+01:00

Pukey Pete Greeley's Pharmacy stank of cat's piss, a smell quite normal for a methamphetamine lab. As the pervading smell hit George, he snorted loudly and struggled against the iron chain. El Diablo was more concerned by the appearance of Pukey Pete and the Franchi shotgun pointed at him. Pukey Pete had bright white peroxide hair, enormous lips stuffed with about 353 cc of collagen and was wearing a tight pink polka-dotted dress, cut to just above his bollock line. As an immediate reflex LD put his hands up into the air and George followed suit. Pete realized that this was no bust and lowered the shotgun. He assumed that LD was just a fucking weirdo looking to score some meth.

Pete: You want some ice ? LD looked at him in bewilderment wondering how he knew that LD was in search of icepacks. LD : Yeah, great, gimme 4 bags. Pete went into the back of the pharmacy and returned with 4 packets of methamphetamine sealed in plastic bags. He placed them on the counter and said :That'll be 3067 Gristle Juices. LD: What ! 3067 Gristle Juices for 4 icepacks ! That's a fucking rip-off ! Pukey Pete: Icepacks? this ain't a grocery store, this is high-grade crystal meth, you dumb hillbilly hogfucker. In a millisecond LD grabbed him by the neck of his dress and pulled his face close to his. LD : Listen, filthy cuntwipe, one more remark like that and I'll burn you a new face ! Gimme some pseudoephedrine now !

Ss-ss-pseudoephedrine ? stammered Pukey Pete, freaked out by LD's lightening reaction and iron grip. What the fuck do you want that for? LD relaxed his grip on Pete and said: I was told that pseudoephedrine would solve my bulbous baculum dysfunction. Pete: Maybe so, but I've used up all I have in the lab. There might be someone who can help you though. LD : Who ? Pete : There is a brilliant surgeon in Barcelona, one of the world's leading authorities in phalloplasty. LD: Phalloplasty ? What the fuck is that ? Pete : Phalloplasty is surgery for penis enlargement. Pete had been to see the doctor a couple of years ago and was very pleased with the enlarged results and the angle of his erection. Penis enlargement ?!! shouted El Diablo, do I look like I need my cock extended, you cisgendered moronic rectum ?

George shuddered at the thought of any enlargement, already suffering the brunt of LD's full hoist. Pete : Well, if he can enlarge it surely he can decrease it ? He might refer you to a colleague who could help. LD: Okay, ok gimme his details, i'll try anything to get this pork suitcase off me.Pete scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to LD who snatched it and walked out. As he headed towards his steed George started whining and whimpering. LD : Now what ? George: I'm starving, I've have had nothing to eat for the last 61 hours and I want some Mexican food. LD laughed out loud. Mexican food, eh ! Well I'll give you one fig to eat now and that's it, i'm not having anything passing down your shitpipe whilst i'm stuck in it. LD pulled out a squashed fig from his back pocket and handed it to George who gobbled it down in a flash.

As he was about to mount the brimstone steed LD heard a snorting sound followed by rustling in the bushes nearby. George started squealing and wriggling around. He had picked by the scent of the pigs and was getting excited. LD turned to see a herd of pigs approach him. The pigs were fluorescent green and George yelled out to them in boarspeak . LD took a deep breath preparing to blowtorch the pigs thinking they would attack. George sensing this, said : No, no, relax .They are the new Japanese transgenic pigs made from jellyfish embryos, they won't harm us. The head pig looked at George and said : Ogenki desu ka . George looked at him blankly, limited by his Occidental boarspeak and said nothing. Head Pig : Doko no shussin desu ka. Finally he gave up and said : Kuso, ikou ! and trotted off with the rest off the pigs.

El Diablo looked at the piece of paper from Pukey Pete on which was written, Doctor Julio Jabugo Guigelo Gordales, Passeig de Gracia 72, Barcelona 08007 and fed in the co-ordinates into the steed's dashboard. It was a long nine hour ride at 217 m.p.h and LD planned to rest in Valencia before going to see the doctor the next morning. As they took off down the highway it began to rain.

Under the Pepper Tree - Slimy Sol's Sodom Bar

2006-01-16T01:37:00.000+01:00

El Diablo zoomed along at 183 m.p.h. much to George's chagrin. George was getting tired of being strussed up by an iron chain in an awkard uncomfortable position. He hadn't slept or eaten for two days and was fed up of LD's 27.4 cm hoist up his rectum, continually pummeling his large intestine. He was being driven mad by the wind and the orange bugs splattering on his snout as the brimstone steed tore down the highway at full pelt.''What's the plan ?'' he asked, with some faint ray of hope that all this madness would end soon and that he could return to the peace of his sounder. "Shut your hole !'' growled LD, who was adamant to get to Slimy Sol's Sodom Bar as soon as possible in the hope of getting some ice-packs.

Slimy Sol's Sodom Bar was managed by Vaseline, Sol's scuzzy spunk mopper. Slimy Sol was on vacation in Torremolinos having made a fortune selling used condoms at 163 Gristle Juices per packet of 3. Vaseline swished around the bar with his mop, the top of which was decorated by a singly ionized copper Catalan monk, keeping all the shit and the jizz off the floor. Vaseline constantly wore a pair of rollerblades powered by a lethal combination of nitrous oxide and hydroxy-terminated polybutadiene and had been seen blazing along at 158 m.p.h. on the highway. Vaseline was having a bad day. He had caught his dick-piercing in his zip and had torn a bit of flesh from his meatus. He managed a faint scurvy smile as he saw LD pull up outside with what seemed like a wild boar strapped to him. He swished across to the entrance to meet LD and knew better than to make any remarks about George.

LD was starving and shouted , "Hey Greasy-arse ! What's to eat ?" ''The menu of the day is komodo dragon steaks in sodium pentathol sauce, followed by syphilitic scrotum skins with dingleberry dip and a sorbet of Fauve dog's salivatory mucus," replied Vaseline, irritated, as he hated being called Greasy-arse.'' 3 menus and a large bottle of 80 proof Mescal, and put a rush on it, I'm fucking starving," snarled LD." And get me some ice -packs right now ! " " We don't have any icepacks or ice, the freezer is fucked," said Vas. "Fuck this !" roared LD, banging his fist on the table splintering its cheap formica veneer. He was getting really frustrated at all his attempts to remove the wild boar that was stuck firmly on his baculum. Vaseline asked why LD wanted ice-packs and LD told him to get his food immediately and then he would tell him. George asked if he could eat something and received a solid kidney-punch from LD as a response. He squealed loudly causing all the dogs to turn around and look at him. LD ate very fast and slurped down half the bottle of Mescal. He belched loudly a couple of times and lit a Cabrona, blowing smoke all over George. Vaseline came over and asked him why he wanted the ice-packs.

(At this point all punctuation marks for speech are being removed as it's getting painful )
LD explained that in his Mescal/DMT haze he had buggered the boar forgetting his bulbous baculum dysfunction and had thus been stuck up the boar's arse for the last 2 days. He explained that the ice-packs were one proven method of reducing his priapic hoist. Have you tried pseudoephedrine? asked Vaseline. LD : Pseudo what ? Vas. : Pseudoephedrine, it should get your rig back to normal in no time. LD: Where can i get some ? Vas. : Try Pukey Pete Greeley's Pharmacy, he's open late. LD grabbed the half bottle of Mescal, paid the bill, a total of 1651 Gristle Juices and left. 39 minutes later he arrived at Pukey Pete's Pharmacy. There was a light on inside and a dimly lit red neon cross was flashing above the sign for the pharmacy. He kicked open the door with a loud bang and entered. Pukey Pete was a transvestite whose interest in medicine was pharmacological than pharmaceutical. He had been running a methamphetamine lab in the back of the pharmacy for the last 3 years and was extremely paranoid as a result. When he heard the door opening with a bang, he appeared from the back with an automatic, gas-operated Franchi SPAS -15 shotgun.

Under the Pepper Tree - Jesus Flymo’s Porcine Flagellation Station

2006-01-06T13:17:00.000+01:00

A few Neo-Geo dogs were standing by the bar, and they swung around at the smell of the boar as LD entered. The boar growled at the dogs and a couple of them pissed themselves resulting in a viscous day-glo green frothy puddle on the floor. Sister Morphine was playing loud via an iPod behind the bar.Jesus Flymo’s Porcine Flagellation Station was bathed in ultra-violet light, decorated with a few of Peter Halley’s trashy neon paintings hung on the walls, pigskin sofas and a few tawses draped over the entrance door. Jesus Flymo appeared to greet LD. Stifling a laugh, he took in the sight of LD with a large wild boar chained to his chest, and a large pair of purple balls hanging out of his leather trousers and asked who his appendage was. LD introduced the boar as George and Flymo offered them a drink. LD ordered an Absolut Royal Fuck and asked the boar if he wanted a drink. The boar grunted, “ Gimme a jugful of Absinthe Martini".

After chugging down a couple of “Royal Fucks“, LD felt a lot better. George meanwhile had drunk the better part of a jugful of Absinthe Martini and felt his bladder swelling up. He started to feel a bit queasy, unused to being strussed up and off the ground. Suddenly without any warning, he vomited a stream of bilious green gunge over the bar, splashing Jesus Flymo who was serving at the other end. Flymo was furious at being covered in boar puke and told LD to get the fuck out of his bar. Reluctantly LD left, realizing that the main purpose of his visit had been to get icepacks from bar.

Furious at being thrown out with no chance of getting any icepacks, El Diablo punched the boar on the back of his head. George gasped in pain and promptly pissed himself. As a warm stream of boar piss trickled down LD’s black leather trousers, he cursed himself wishing the day had not begun. LD went and sat down under a pepper tree nearby to collect his thoughts, thinking that perhaps a chainsaw was that only way to get rid of George. He then thought that the Neo-Geo dog with the smouldering face that he had left at the bar’s entrance might oblige in giving him a hard kick in the balls. LD slowly got to his feet and walked over to the dog. The dog saw him approaching and cowered. “I want you to kick me in the balls with full force," said LD. The dog thinking this was a trick and valuing what was left of his face said," You what ? "LD explained that he would be very grateful if the dog kicked him in the golas with all his might and promised that there would be no repercussions.

LD’s scrotum was a large hairless purple sack covered in dermal bone, rather similar to a South American 3-banded armadillo’s body armour. It was as hard as 130N/mm2 strength concrete, totally impervious to pain, and it had proved useful at times as a party trick where LD would strike a match off it and crack walnuts with it. Oblivious of this, the dog thought he would get some satisfaction for his charred face by kicking in El Diablo’s scrotum. As LD lifted up the boars’s hind legs for the dog to get a good shot, the dog unleashed his best right foot catching LD square in his balls. There was a loud crack of shattering bone and the dog screamed hopping on his left foot as his right foot hung limply, a mess of blood and fragmented bone. Adding insult to injury, LD muttered,'' You're fucking useless" and shuffled off with George. He mounted his brimstone steed and drove off in a cloud of dust.

Under the Pepper Tree - Bulbous Baculum Dysfunction

2005-12-23T04:05:00.000+01:00

In his haze he had forgotten his bulbous baculum dysfunction (he had an occasional case of his dick swelling up resulting in getting stuck for hours, like two dogs fucking). He realized after a short while of pumping the boar and screamed loudly as it happened again. A momentary spark of sanity sputtered in his addled brain as he realized that he had a 127kg wild boar as a temporary appendage, considerably heavier than any blonde he had been stuck in. His previous methods of curing his bulbous baculum dysfunction were either applying ice packs to his genitalia or getting someone to give him a vicious kick in balls. As there were no ice packs at hand, nor anyone in the near vicinity, he decided to go to Jesus Flymo’s Porcine Flagellation Station where help would be available.

LD carefully picked up the boar in his arms and struggled towards his brimstone steed. He unfurled a heavy steel chain attached to the back of the steed and proceeded to tie the boar with it to his chest making sure that it was properly tied to avoid snapping his dick off if the boar slipped and fell. The boar grunted as he was tied upright to LD’s chest and wondered how much further his ordeal would continue. Straddling his steed, LD adjusted himself and the boar, verbally entered the co-ordinates for Flymo’s Bar into the steed’s sat-nav panel, kickstarted the steed into life and thundered off in the direction indicated.

Two hours later he arrived outside Jesus Flymo’s, quite exhausted by the extra baggage he had been carrying. As it was 2.30 a.m. there wasn’t much life at the bar as it all strarted happening around 4.a.m. He got off the steed and slowly walked towards the entrance. At the door there were a couple of Neo-Geo dogs hanging out who looked at LD and the boar as they approached. Guffawing loudly, one of them sang out , “LD, you fucked some pigs in your time, but never one as rough as that !’’ El Diablo looked at him briefly and opened his mouth unleashing a hot scorching flame riddled with Mescal and other vile toxins. It hit the dog and blew half off his face off. Leaving the dog screaming with a half melted face, El Diablo entered the bar.

Under the Pepper Tree - The Wild Boar

2005-12-09T03:52:00.000+01:00

El Diablo (LD) woke up with a start, sweating profusely. It was dark with a sliver of a new moon peaking through the clouds. Rubbing his head, he adjusted one of his horns that bent in the fall. His head felt like a small chain-saw was buzzing through it and he slowly staggered towards his brimstone steed. Reaching into the saddle bag, he pulled out a large bottle of 80% proof Oaxacan Mescal and took a long swig, drinking half the bottle. He belched loudly and spat on the ground. Fumbling in his pockets, he pulled out a pack of filterless Cabronas and lit one up, scratching his arse as the Mescal fired through him.

He spotted some reed canary grass growing nearby and went towards it to pick some. Stuffing fistfuls of it down his throat, he smiled to himself while ingesting the grass which he knew had a high DMT (dimethyltryptamine) content. He swallowed a handful of harmal seeds (a monoamine oxidase inhibitor) , needed to retain the full effects of the DMT, and washed it all down with more Mescal. LD heard a rustling in the bushes and his infra-red sensors picked up the presence of a wild boar. Despite his fucked up state, he charged into the long grass and in a second had the boar in his grasp.

Tying him to a tree, he sat down and smoked another Cabrona . He thought about what he would do tonight and his thoughts drifted back to the previous night’s sex. As the DMT took its toll, twisting his neurons, swelling his pineal gland , the Mescal sloshed around his rancid guts, and he jumped to his feet. He ran towards the boar, grabbed it by the head, pulling his swollen baculum out of his black leather trousers, and stuffed all 274 mm. of it up the boar’s rectum. As the boar squealed in pain being hot-rodded, El Diablo roared with delight thrusting back and forth.

UNDER THE PEPPER TREE

2005-10-05T02:59:00.000+02:00

The Devil sits on a whitewashed wall under a pepper tree, masturbating furiously. He ponders on the night’s excessive foray up the chocolate highway at 154 m.p.h. on his brimstone steed, leaving a wake of sore rectitude in his trail. As he sits sucking on a lemon-lime, a cigarillo dangling off his lip, he smiles in priapic bliss, sweat pouring from his brow .... dripping onto his rig. Another 15 minutes of shaking his bone, he points at a ripe fig by his feet and shoots white jasmine glory, the fig sizzles red picante as he leans over backwards in momentary ecstacy and falls off the wall.

DEC. 9/05 3.52 a.m. THE WILD BOAR

El Diablo (LD) woke up with a start, sweating profusely. It was dark with a sliver of a new moon peaking through the clouds. Rubbing his head, he adjusted one of his horns that bent in the fall. His head felt like a small chain-saw was buzzing through it and he slowly staggered towards his brimstone steed. Reaching into the saddle bag, he pulled out a large bottle of 80% proof Oaxacan Mescal and took a long swig, drinking half the bottle. He belched loudly and spat on the ground. Fumbling in his pockets, he pulled out a pack of filterless Cabronas and lit one up, scratching his arse as the Mescal fired through him.

He spotted some reed canary grass growing nearby and went towards it to pick some. Stuffing fistfuls of it down his throat, he smiled to himself while ingesting the grass which he knew had a high DMT (dimethyltryptamine) content. He swallowed a handful of harmal seeds (a monoamine oxidase inhibitor) , needed to retain the full effects of the DMT, and washed it all down with more Mescal. LD heard a rustling in the bushes and his infra-red sensors picked up the presence of a wild boar. Despite his fucked up state, he charged into the long grass and in a second had the boar in his grasp.

Tying him to a tree, he sat down and smoked another Cabrona . He thought about what he would do tonight and his thoughts drifted back to the previous night’s sex. As the DMT took its toll, twisting his neurons, swelling his pineal gland , the Mescal sloshed around his rancid guts, and he jumped to his feet. He ran towards the boar, grabbed it by the head, pulling his swollen baculum out of his black leather trousers, and stuffed all 274 mm. of it up the boar’s rectum. As the boar squealed in pain being hot-rodded, El Diablo roared with delight thrusting back and forth.

Dec.23/05 4.05 a.m. bulbous baculum dysfunction

In his haze he had forgotten his bulbous baculum dysfunction (he had an occasional case of his dick swelling up resulting in getting stuck for hours, like two dogs fucking). He realized after a short while of pumping the boar and screamed loudly as it happened again. A momentary spark of sanity sputtered in his addled brain as he realized that he had a 127kg wild boar as a temporary appendage, considerably heavier than any blonde he had been stuck in. His previous methods of curing his bulbous baculum dysfunction were either applying ice packs to his genitalia or getting someone to give him a vicious kick in balls. As there were no ice packs at hand, nor anyone in the near vicinity, he decided to go to Jesus Flymo’s Porcine Flagellation Station where help would be available.

LD carefully picked up the boar in his arms and struggled towards his brimstone steed. He unfurled a heavy steel chain attached to the back of the steed and proceeded to tie the boar with it to his chest making sure that it was properly tied to avoid snapping his dick off if the boar slipped and fell. The boar grunted as he was tied upright to LD’s chest and wondered how much further his ordeal would continue. Straddling his steed, LD adjusted himself and the boar, verbally entered the co-ordinates for Flymo’s Bar into the steed’s sat-nav panel, kickstarted the steed into life and thundered off in the direction indicated.

Two hours later he arrived outside Jesus Flymo’s, quite exhausted by the extra baggage he had been carrying. As it was 2.30 a.m. there wasn’t much life at the bar as it all strarted happening around 4.a.m. He got off the steed and slowly walked towards the entrance. At the door there were a couple of Neo-Geo dogs hanging out who looked at LD and the boar as they approached. Guffawing loudly, one of them sang out , “LD, you fucked some pigs in your time, but never one as rough as that !’’ El Diablo looked at him briefly and opened his mouth unleashing a hot scorching flame riddled with Mescal and other vile toxins. It hit the dog and blew half off his face off. Leaving the dog screaming with a half melted face, El Diablo entered the bar.

1.17 a.m. Jan.6/06 Jesus Flymo’s Porcine Flagellation Station

A few Neo-Geo dogs were standing by the bar, and they swung around at the smell of the boar as LD entered. The boar growled at the dogs and a couple of them pissed themselves resulting in a viscous day-glo green frothy puddle on the floor. Sister Morphine was playing loud via an iPod behind the bar.Jesus Flymo’s Porcine Flagellation Station was bathed in ultra-violet light, decorated with a few of Peter Halley’s trashy neon paintings hung on the walls, pigskin sofas and a few tawses draped over the entrance door. Jesus Flymo appeared to greet LD. Stifling a laugh, he took in the sight of LD with a large wild boar chained to his chest, and a large pair of purple balls hanging out of his leather trousers and asked who his appendage was. LD introduced the boar as George and Flymo offered them a drink. LD ordered an Absolut Royal Fuck and asked the boar if he wanted a drink. The boar grunted, “ Gimme a jugful of Absinthe Martini".

After chugging down a couple of “Royal Fucks“, LD felt a lot better. George meanwhile had drunk the better part of a jugful of Absinthe Martini and felt his bladder swelling up. He started to feel a bit queasy, unused to being strussed up and off the ground. Suddenly without any warning, he vomited a stream of bilious green gunge over the bar, splashing Jesus Flymo who was serving at the other end. Flymo was furious at being covered in boar puke and told LD to get the fuck out of his bar. Reluctantly LD left, realizing that the main purpose of his visit had been to get icepacks from bar.

Furious at being thrown out with no chance of getting any icepacks, El Diablo punched the boar on the back of his head. George gasped in pain and promptly pissed himself. As a warm stream of boar piss trickled down LD’s black leather trousers, he cursed himself wishing the day had not begun. LD went and sat down under a pepper tree nearby to collect his thoughts, thinking that perhaps a chainsaw was that only way to get rid of George. He then thought that the Neo-Geo dog with the smouldering face that he had left at the bar’s entrance might oblige in giving him a hard kick in the balls. LD slowly got to his feet and walked over to the dog. The dog saw him approaching and cowered. “I want you to kick me in the balls with full force," said LD. The dog thinking this was a trick and valuing what was left of his face said," You what ? "LD explained that he would be very grateful if the dog kicked him in the golas with all his might and promised that there would be no repercussions.

LD’s scrotum was a large hairless purple sack covered in dermal bone, rather similar to a South American 3-banded armadillo’s body armour. It was as hard as 130N/mm2 strength concrete, totally impervious to pain, and it had proved useful at times as a party trick where LD would strike a match off it and crack walnuts with it. Oblivious of this, the dog thought he would get some satisfaction for his charred face by kicking in El Diablo’s scrotum. As LD lifted up the boars’s hind legs for the dog to get a good shot, the dog unleashed his best right foot catching LD square in his balls. There was a loud crack of shattering bone and the dog screamed hopping on his left foot as his right foot hung limply, a mess of blood and fragmented bone. Adding insult to injury, LD muttered,'' You're fucking useless" and shuffled off with George. He mounted his brimstone steed and drove off in a cloud of dust.

1.37 a.m. Jan 16/06 Slimy Sol's Sodom Bar

El Diablo zoomed along at 183 m.p.h. much to George's chagrin. George was getting tired of being strussed up by an iron chain in an awkard uncomfortable position. He hadn't slept or eaten for two days and was fed up of LD's 27.4 cm hoist up his rectum, continually pummeling his large intestine. He was being driven mad by the wind and the orange bugs splattering on his snout as the brimstone steed tore down the highway at full pelt.''What's the plan ?'' he asked, with some faint ray of hope that all this madness would end soon and that he could return to the peace of his sounder. "Shut your hole !'' growled LD, who was adamant to get to Slimy Sol's Sodom Bar as soon as possible in the hope of getting some ice-packs.

Slimy Sol's Sodom Bar was managed by Vaseline, Sol's scuzzy spunk mopper. Slimy Sol was on vacation in Torremolinos having made a fortune selling used condoms at 163 Gristle Juices per packet of 3. Vaseline swished around the bar with his mop, the top of which was decorated by a singly ionized copper Catalan monk, keeping all the shit and the jizz off the floor. Vaseline constantly wore a pair of rollerblades powered by a lethal combination of nitrous oxide and hydroxy-terminated polybutadiene and had been seen blazing along at 158 m.p.h. on the highway. Vaseline was having a bad day. He had caught his dick-piercing in his zip and had torn a bit of flesh from his meatus. He managed a faint scurvy smile as he saw LD pull up outside with what seemed like a wild boar strapped to him. He swished across to the entrance to meet LD and knew better than to make any remarks about George.

LD was starving and shouted , "Hey Greasy-arse ! What's to eat ?" ''The menu of the day is komodo dragon steaks in sodium pentathol sauce, followed by syphilitic scrotum skins with dingleberry dip and a sorbet of Fauve dog's salivatory mucus," replied Vaseline, irritated, as he hated being called Greasy-arse.'' 3 menus and a large bottle of 80 proof Mescal, and put a rush on it, I'm fucking starving," snarled LD." And get me some ice -packs right now ! " " We don't have any icepacks or ice, the freezer is fucked," said Vas. "Fuck this !" roared LD, banging his fist on the table splintering its cheap formica veneer. He was getting really frustrated at all his attempts to remove the wild boar that was stuck firmly on his baculum. Vaseline asked why LD wanted ice-packs and LD told him to get his food immediately and then he would tell him. George asked if he could eat something and received a solid kidney-punch from LD as a response. He squealed loudly causing all the dogs to turn around and look at him. LD ate very fast and slurped down half the bottle of Mescal. He belched loudly a couple of times and lit a Cabrona, blowing smoke all over George. Vaseline came over and asked him why he wanted the ice-packs.

(At this point all punctuation marks for speech are being removed as it's getting painful )
LD explained that in his Mescal/DMT haze he had buggered the boar forgetting his bulbous baculum dysfunction and had thus been stuck up the boar's arse for the last 2 days. He explained that the ice-packs were one proven method of reducing his priapic hoist. Have you tried pseudoephedrine? asked Vaseline. LD : Pseudo what ? Vas. : Pseudoephedrine, it should get your rig back to normal in no time. LD: Where can i get some ? Vas. : Try Pukey Pete Greeley's Pharmacy, he's open late. LD grabbed the half bottle of Mescal, paid the bill, a total of 1651 Gristle Juices and left. 39 minutes later he arrived at Pukey Pete's Pharmacy. There was a light on inside and a dimly lit red neon cross was flashing above the sign for the pharmacy. He kicked open the door with a loud bang and entered. Pukey Pete was a transvestite whose interest in medicine was pharmacological than pharmaceutical. He had been running a methamphetamine lab in the back of the pharmacy for the last 3 years and was extremely paranoid as a result. When he heard the door opening with a bang, he appeared from the back with an automatic, gas-operated Franchi SPAS -15 shotgun.

6.26 a.m. Jan. 26/06 : Pukey Pete Greeley's Pharmacy

Pukey Pete Greeley's Pharmacy stank of cat's piss, a smell quite normal for a methamphetamine lab. As the pervading smell hit George, he snorted loudly and struggled against the iron chain. El Diablo was more concerned by the appearance of Pukey Pete and the Franchi shotgun pointed at him. Pukey Pete had bright white peroxide hair, enormous lips stuffed with about 353 cc of collagen and was wearing a tight pink polka-dotted dress, cut to just above his bollock line. As an immediate reflex LD put his hands up into the air and George followed suit. Pete realized that this was no bust and lowered the shotgun. He assumed that LD was just a fucking weirdo looking to score some meth.

Pete: You want some ice ? LD looked at him in bewilderment wondering how he knew that LD was in search of icepacks. LD : Yeah, great, gimme 4 bags. Pete went into the back of the pharmacy and returned with 4 packets of methamphetamine sealed in plastic bags. He placed them on the counter and said :That'll be 3067 Gristle Juices. LD: What ! 3067 Gristle Juices for 4 icepacks ! That's a fucking rip-off ! Pukey Pete: Icepacks? this ain't a grocery store, this is high-grade crystal meth, you dumb hillbilly hogfucker. In a millisecond LD grabbed him by the neck of his dress and pulled his face close to his. LD : Listen, filthy cuntwipe, one more remark like that and I'll burn you a new face ! Gimme some pseudoephedrine now !

Ss-ss-pseudoephedrine ? stammered Pukey Pete, freaked out by LD's lightening reaction and iron grip. What the fuck do you want that for? LD relaxed his grip on Pete and said: I was told that pseudoephedrine would solve my bulbous baculum dysfunction. Pete: Maybe so, but I've used up all I have in the lab. There might be someone who can help you though. LD : Who ? Pete : There is a brilliant surgeon in Barcelona, one of the world's leading authorities in phalloplasty. LD: Phalloplasty ? What the fuck is that ? Pete : Phalloplasty is surgery for penis enlargement. Pete had been to see the doctor a couple of years ago and was very pleased with the enlarged results and the angle of his erection. Penis enlargement ?!! shouted El Diablo, do I look like I need my cock extended, you cisgendered moronic rectum ?

George shuddered at the thought of any enlargement, already suffering the brunt of LD's full hoist. Pete : Well, if he can enlarge it surely he can decrease it ? He might refer you to a colleague who could help. LD: Okay, ok gimme his details, i'll try anything to get this pork suitcase off me.Pete scribbled something on a piece of paper and handed it to LD who snatched it and walked out. As he headed towards his steed George started whining and whimpering. LD : Now what ? George: I'm starving, I've have had nothing to eat for the last 61 hours and I want some Mexican food. LD laughed out loud. Mexican food, eh ! Well I'll give you one fig to eat now and that's it, i'm not having anything passing down your shitpipe whilst i'm stuck in it. LD pulled out a squashed fig from his back pocket and handed it to George who gobbled it down in a flash.

As he was about to mount the brimstone steed LD heard a snorting sound followed by rustling in the bushes nearby. George started squealing and wriggling around. He had picked by the scent of the pigs and was getting excited. LD turned to see a herd of pigs approach him. The pigs were fluorescent green and George yelled out to them in boarspeak . LD took a deep breath preparing to blowtorch the pigs thinking they would attack. George sensing this, said : No, no, relax .They are the new Japanese transgenic pigs made from jellyfish embryos, they won't harm us. The head pig looked at George and said : Ogenki desu ka . George looked at him blankly, limited by his Occidental boarspeak and said nothing. Head Pig : Doko no shussin desu ka. Finally he gave up and said : Kuso, ikou ! and trotted off with the rest off the pigs.

El Diablo looked at the piece of paper from Pukey Pete on which was written, Doctor Julio Jabugo Guigelo Gordales, Passeig de Gracia 72, Barcelona 08007 and fed in the co-ordinates into the steed's dashboard. It was a long nine hour ride at 217 m.p.h and LD planned to rest in Valencia before going to see the doctor the next morning. As they took off down the highway it began to rain.

4.04 a.m. Feb. 9/06 In Alicunte with Slippery Sally Clitsen

The sky was a deep viridian, bucketing rain followed by a vicious hailstorm. As hailstones the size of El Diablo's balls pelted down bouncing off George's head, he screamed : Look out ! The brimstone steed was hurtling down the highway at 217 m.p.h. as they hit a transgenic fluorescent pig crossing the road. El Diablo slammed on the brakes, and the steed hit the pig dead centre at 153 m.p.h. LD and George were pitched forwards and flew through the air for 17 seconds till they landed smack in the middle of a pile of green pig manure by the road side. A few minutes later LD slowly stood up and wiped some of the green pigshit off his eyes.The fall had resulted in a throbbing pain in his swollen dick and George was wailing as his rectum was further torn. Despite the imapct, his bulbous baculum was still firmly implanted deep in George's turd-chute. LD walked towards the steed which was lying on its side minus its exhaust pipe. He picked it up and tried to start it. It coughed once and then bellowed into life . Seeing a sign saying Alicunte 3 km, he decided to stop there for the night to rest.

LD entered Alicunte and drove down to the Esplanada in front of the marina. He parked the steed on the pavement oblivious of its eardrum splitting sonance and sat down at a cafe facing the sea. A cruise ship was in town and a gaggle of geriatric tourists had flooded the cafe and were eating "pai-ella". They shuddered at the sight of LD and George's arrival and tried not to gag on the horrendous smell of the green pigshit that they were plastered in. The waiter approached and LD ordered a bottle of Mescal. The waiter said : We don't have any, try Pacharan. LD: Ok, gimme a bottle of whatever the fuck that is . George ordered a Cuba Libre and was quite excited as he had never seen the sea before. In the distance a middle-aged man was walking his Afghan hound, dressed in a full sleeve white shirt, a pair of Y-fronts and blue slippers. George whistled at the dog who didn't bother responding. LD spotted Slippery Sally sitting at a nearby table drinking a mojito, reading the classifieds in the local paper. She caught his gaze and smiled, got up and headed towards their table.

Slippery Sally Clitsen had just had a tit job boosting her dags to a monstrous 38 FF. She been performing at the Cous Club in Torrevieja and was on her way to perform in a live fuckshow at FICEB ( Festival Internacional de Cine Erotico de Barcelona ) and was looking for a ride. She had an unfortunate sexual disorder when she was aroused. 13 litres of viscid lovejuice with a high pyridine concentrate would pour out of her vaginal epithelium resulting in a virtual tidal wave. The night she had tried to fuck El Diablo was a disaster as he slid out of bed in the fluid torrent of her deluge and had landed on the floor hitting his head on an empty Mescal bottle. Subsequently she had resorted to being hammered up the dung canal, doggystyle, as her slice was too slippery to penetrate and wore a lilac pair of ribbed rubber knee-pads to stabilize herself on the sodden mattress. Slippery Sally was wearing a miniscular white bikini top with her large 80% dark chocolate areolas peaking out at the sides, a pair of tight white cameltoe shorts and white Justin cowboy boots. She kissed LD on the mouth and smiling at George said : Hi LD. Who's your friend ? LD growled : Hey Sally, he's no friend, just some baggage I'm stuck in. George stuck out a paw and introduced himself. I'm George the Wild Boar (G.W.B)

Slippery Sally took them down to the Playa del Postiguet for a shower as the smell of the encrusted, dried pigshit was getting unbearable. She suggested that they go drinking in the Barrio to a little bar she knew which served pitchers of mojitos. As the Carnival was on, all the night's revellers thought LD was in fancy dress with George as a cool prop. LD had to crouch down low to get in as the door was only 3.5 ft high, a difficult task with a 127 kg. boar strapped to his chest. It was packed tight inside, hot and sweaty. LD drank jugfuls of mojitos while the others drank glassfuls, and when the barmaid realized that George was real, gave him free drinks all night long. At about 4.30 a.m. LD yawned and said he needed to collapse. You could sleep with me : said Slippery Sally, but it's a bit difficult with George. LD staggered out of the bar and headed for the Plaza Gabriel Miró. He sat down under the pepper tree and fell into a deep sleep.

He woke up with a start hearing a voice screaming close to his ear. LD : what the fuck is going on ? Thinking LD & George were drunk & fast asleep, Emshi Tuk Tuk, a thieving Algerian, took a chance to try and nick LD's wallet. George had spotted him from the corner of his beady little eye & turned to grab the hand holding the wallet in his mouth, biting down on it. Seeing his wallet in the hand in George's mouth, LD spat : You cunt ! He took a deep breath and unleashed a ball of flames at Tuk Tuk's face. Emshi screamed and shot backwards with such force that his hand came off in George's mouth. As Emshi rolled around on the floor in agony, his face on fire minus his right hand, LD said : we've gotta fuckin' split. He ran to the steed, jumped on, zoomed up to the bar Slippery Sally was being chatted up at, grabbed her and roared out of town into the pthalocyanine dawn.

3.16 A.M. March 6/06 Full penetration in Barcelona.

The sky was a translucent cerulean tinged with a smattering of vermillion cirrus clouds. El Diablo, Slippery Sally Clitsen and George the Wild Boar (G.W.B.) were tearing down the highway towards Barcelona. LD had decided to stop at FICEB ( Festival Internacional de Cine Erotico de Barcelona ) as they had to drop off Slippery Sally who was a participant in the Barcelona 690. As they entered Barcelona heading for La Farga de L'Hospitalet, G.W.B was nodding his head to the 2 Live Crew song that was blaring out of the brimstone steed's DAB radio. '' ...you said it yourself, you like it like I do, put your lips on my dick and suck my asshole too...", a befitting entrance as they drove into FICEB.

Slippery Sally got off the steed and handed LD a V.I.P. pass . She told him to meet her later that night at the apartment lent to her on Calle Caspe. As she went in to prepare herself for the 690 performance, LD headed for the V.I.P. bar . Free cava was being passed around in the bar's enclosure. LD ordered a bottle of Chinaco Tequila and drank it all in one large swig. He ordered another, threw 1767 Gristle Juices on the bar and clutching the bottle, headed into the throng of the festival. Most of the people in the audience were men, armed with their digital cameras snapping the live blowjobs and playing pocket billiards. There were different stages setup arond the venue, some were live fuckshows with full penetration, some with stands selling sex-related paraphernalia like dildoes, butt plugs, butterfly vibrators, lube, arse beads, strap-ons, & cock rings, and some showing skin flicks. Slimy Sol had a condom stand in a corner and was handing out free samples with corporate logos stamped on them.

LD noticed that people were staring at them, despite the live fuckshows on the different stages all around. He looked down and saw Emshi Tuk Tuk's chewed-off hand still in GWB's mouth and quickly pulled it out. As he flung it away, it landed on the shaved, dripping delta of Debbie Dagmars' cooze, just before her 397th penetration on the 690 stage. Debbie Dagmars screamed loudly when she saw Tuk Tuk's dead hand plonk itself on her twadge and rushed off the stage in total hysteria. On another stage, a large crowd had gathered to watch Cocko Fuckready pistoning three girls up the arse in random rotation. As he saw El Diablo and GWB pass by, he carried on pumping and called out with a grin on his face : Ciao Diavolo, come stai ? Sempre cazzo duro ! Un cinghiale, ehh ! LD waved to him, thinking he would do anything to swop places with Fuckready, instead of being stuck up a stupid wild boar's arse. He sauntered through the crowds gulping down his tequila .

GWB's continual hunger had been placated by gnawing on Tuk Tuk's dead hand for the last 18 hours. He started whimpering again. LD: what the fuck now ? GWB: I'm hungry, gimme some empanadias or something to chew on. LD was getting very fed up with this situation in his life, a 127 kg porcine appendage chained to his chest. He grabbed a thick, mint flavoured jelly dildo from a nearby stand and shoved it in GWB's mouth. LD growled: Here, chew on this, fuckface ! In the distance he saw a stand with a sign marked " Doctor Julio Jabugo Guigelo Gordales - Leading Specialist in Phalloplasty. That's it ! : he thought and headed for the stand.

A young woman dressed in a white uniform was behind the stand talking to the various 'stars' that were making appointments for their annual service maintenance. As LD approached she eyed him up and down, and with a typical Catalan arrogance said: Bona Tarda . LD's Spanish was limited to one word. He replied : Joder ? She shook her head and said : Can I help ju ? LD : I need to see the Doctor. She : He's away at the moment, I make ju an appointment for Monday morning. LD returned to the V.I.P. bar for more tequila and sat down on a velvet sofa. He was bored with the scene. Normally he would have been up on a stage parading his monstrous baculum, engaged in some form of penetrative irruption. He had been a wild card invitee to previous festivals. He struck a match on his right ball, lit up a Cabrona and took another swig of Chinaco.

Las Chicharrones were a trio of silicon enhanced ''starlets '' who were making their debut at FICEB. They had been a big hit in the mud wrestling pit and were now guzzling copious copas of cava in the V.I.P bar. They saw G.W.B. and waddled across in a state of corybantic delirium. Hola guapo ! : said Peroxide, adjusting her gargantuan cleavage. LD smiled thinking they had come to check him out. His smile rapidly turned into a scowl when he realized that they were more interested in G.W.B. In their pickled cava soaked state they stroked G.W.B. under his snout thinking he was a big furry pet dog. George got all excited and started wriggling around with glee. In his excitement his sphincters muscles relaxed, releasing a peristaltic tidal wave, propelling a noxious, ochre liquid jet-stream of pent-up shit that poured into LD's lap and trickled down his leg onto the floor.

El Diablo was livid as this was the final straw. In his rage, he swung the half empty bottle of tequila hitting G.W.B. on the head with full force, rendering him unconscious. Las Chicharrones screamed and moved away from the sofa. The sound of shattering glass alerted the security guards who rushed towards LD and asked him to leave. A fight broke out as LD was in no mood for authority, loaded to the gills full of Chinaco and ready to release his frustration on the guards. He grabbed two of them and slung them across the bar. As he stood up he felt the two searing bursts of 900,000 volts on his neck and right kidney from the guard's Streetwise stun gun. Convulsing, he fell forwards through an ultramarine glass table, collapsed to the floor and passed out on top of George.

2.34 A.M. OCT.22/06 Dr. Julio Jabugo Guijuelo Gordales.

As the sun's first rays shafted the velvet pubescent dawn, El Diablo woke up in a skip outside FICEB. He was encrusted in George's liquid dump, some used condoms, rejected sex paraphanalia and rubble from a nearby building. He slowly stood up, pulled a purple butt-plug out of his arse crack and crawled out of the skip. George the Wild Boar was still unconscious and was brought to his senses abruptly with LD's impatient fist on his temple. With a vicious,pounding headache and an aching kidney, still sore from the 900k volts of the Streetwise stun gun, LD mounted the brimstone steed and headed towards Calle Caspe to meet Slippery Sally Clitsen. Being a Sunday morning , the streets of Barcelona were relatively quiet and traffic free. He arrived in Calle Caspe to find Sally collapsed outside the building in the doorway. Earlier that night she had resigned from the Barcelona 690 after the 655th penetration, too sore and bored to continue.

Sally had drunk a bottle of J&B whisky after FICEB and had passed out on the doorstep of her building. She lay on the ground, in a puddle of stale sweat, semen, piss and KY jelly. A gang of Chinese youths had seen her lying comatose on the ground in the early hours of dawn and had proceeded to piss on her huge tits as the final highlight to their night out. LD rang the bell and helped her into the building under the startled, conservative gaze of the portera. Leaving the portera to deal with her, he drank 9 cafe solos at a nearby bar, washed down with 3 large balloons of cheap Spanish brandy. He decided to go to the Cuitadella park at the end of the road. The sound of the million drums emanating from the park did nothing for his pounding head and as he entered, he staggered towards the Gaudi fountain, vomited violently into the water, and then wiped his mouth on George's head. ''Vant beer, sur ? '' said Bashira the Punjabi beer vendor, '' oanly 21 Grisul Juce''. LD turned around & snatched the six pack out Bashira's hand and pushed him into the dark green, slimy water of the fountain. ''Bluddy Baasturd,'' spluttered Bashira as he fell in. LD then found a somewhat secluded spot under a pepper tree and lay down to rest. He drank the six pack and dozed off. 2moro was a big day, as he had his appointment with Dr.Julio Gordales.

Doctor Julio Jabugo Guijuelo Gordales (Dr.Julio J.G.G ) was one of world's leading phalloplasty specialists. His Halloderm Derma-baculum matrix graft technique had brought him great fame and an 'A' list of clients, including various presidents and prime minsters. Dr.Julio was obssessed with his penis and had phalloplasted his bone to an absurd 28 cm yoghurt shooter, often flashing it at dinner parties to compete with the baguette on the table and get some business as well. His scrotum had two ruby studs shot into it and a tattoo on the shaft which read : The World is Yours. Dr.Julio was quite an Anglophile and had ''donated'' a lot of money to the Labour Party in the hope of an honorary peerage and recently offered free phalloplasty to Brown. He was an ardent paraphiliac and had a passion for buggering young duchesses as hard as he could, after submitting them to Krug champagne enemas. Doc.J was annoyed that he had to miss FICEB due to a phalloplasty conference in Geneva, as he ocasionally enjoyed displaying his knob at his stand as an advertisment for his skill and surgical ability. Having just returned from the airport, he headed to his penthouse on top of the Om Hotel. He was fitness freak who did 259 press-ups daily on his knuckles and had a 3rd dan in aikido. He showered, ordered some sashimi and a small jug of Sake and fell asleep impaling the rectum of some blonde Swiss chick he had seduced at the conference.

Gaspar 'Dinero' Robles was a foreman in an invernadero in El Ejido. He was a big barrel of a man with a filthy little moustache.... a vicious, sadistic bastard, who often beat the immigrant workers in the invernaderos with a lead-filled silver baseball bat. He had recently won millions in the El Gordo lottery, hence given the nickname 'Dinero' and decided to move to Marbella to flash his newly acquired cash and fuck a better class of whore. Now that he had money he decided to get a penis enlargement as his 4 incher was a constant source of embarassment in all the puti-clubs in the area. Having heard that Dr.Juilo J.G.G was the very best, Gas wanted to double his little pincho to 8 inches (20.32 cm ). Gaspar donned his finest white Versace suit, complete with a loud Versace shirt, a solid gold Versace medallion and a pair of white Gucci loafers. Puffing on a big, long Cohiba, he headed off to Barcelona in his new white Bentley Azure convertible, stopping at all the 'Clubs' on the way. Gaspar lived for whoring and had planned to keep some very expensive ones once his enhancement was successful and active. He was humming along to a Julio Iglesias song that was blaring out of the monster speakers he had installed in his Bentley, as he tore down the E-15 at 241 k.p.h

All the characters and events portrayed in this story are fictitious, and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. Certain references have been taken from The Art Dog- Food Bars.

The Art Dog - Food bars

1990-11-18T07:20:00.000+01:00

The cherubic nubile and her post - modern dog strolled down to the nubiferous pthalocyanine dawn on their way to the Rusty Sardine Bilirubin Bar - two salty dogshakes and a nemesis sandwich later ( total bill of 93 Gristle Juices)......
Violet mallards and biomorphic geese, shine in the obmutescent vermillion glare of their conception as the bashful picador lunges, streaks of good-natured blood seep through the Sacred Cow like the Prussian Blue cheese stuck in the rejoneador's armchair.

Embedded firmly in noxious green parrots are now the latest micro-reality visors, laserseismicophotological viscous stations of platitude and Malatestations of mesomorphic mongrels incast in conical heaps awaiting their saviour in a matchstick. How many (Los) Angels can dance on the head of a pin? Or feed upon their neighbours Pointillist dog; the Cubist dogs tasted of asparagus sausages, (thus all devoured), while the Surrealist dogs don't taste of Brie, but of honeydew melons, draped in ermine fur and travel by Yolkswagons or by Futuristic dogs pulling large Emu eggs.

The Fauve dogs in their pink pyjamas, live in the vicinity of Slimy Sol's Sodom Bar. It differs from the soporific salty slags that mooch around the Bilirubin Bar cruising for a few Gristle Juices, while slurping down their Vandenburgh reaction saltshakes - a far cry from Slimy Sol's Sodom bar, a place where a priaptic 12 incher is mandatory for entry as Vaseline, Sol's scuzzy spunk-mopper, armed with an ionized Catalan monk-mop and nitroglycerine octane fusionized roller-skates greets you with a scurvy smile. He also serves sodium pentathol steaks and syphilitic scrotum skins with dingleberry dip, glazed with Dada dogs salivatory mucus - the menu of the day.

There are finer menus in MoolaPrick Bay, only 2 more bars though. Gross Bill Greenbaum's Gothic Bar, better known as the Fungusarse Bar, where the quality of crudd served is an Abstract dog's eye mixed with its rectal worms (they sparkle phosphorescent cerrulean ), topped up with ten day old cockcheese from the Consctructivist dogs. The Prussian Blue cheese appears again, flying across the room in razor -sharp shards farted out of the cider barrel.

Fine food, but a limited menu leads the cherubic nubile to eventually spontaneously combustofracture into Jesus Flymo's Porcine Flagellation Station where mealy mouthed rectums serve up pig-puke pie with faecal determination. This is a Minotaur dive, no toreros allowed and free admission for the Neo-Geo dogs with their acrylic day-glo cunts frothing rainbow juices. Jesus Flymo is a true shyster, selling used condoms in all the dog flavours (61 Gristle Juices each ) on a stall propped up by his prick. His latest wares are aphrodisaic doughnuts, guaranteed to induce serious instant priapism and slobbering gristle grazing within seconds. He now cuts them with salmonella screwfaces and amoebic pus found in the rectal cysts of the Realistic dogs.

With so much business in MoolaPrick Bay, no wonder there was no room for Ornery Orville's Onanistic Orgasim Café - no dogs left !