Mewtwo: "Mew, I am obviously bigger and stronger than you,

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Mew: "Oh yeah? But I got the bigger dick, now STFU and suck my schlong you lil bitch"

Mewtwo: *slurp* *slurp* *choke* *slurp* *mouth full of cum*

two outta 3

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Mew: "You think I was over? Nah, I'm just getting started you slut. Now transform into your mega Y form cause you look girlier in it, bend over against the wall and stick out that fat manwhore butt. NOWW!!"

Mewtwo: "o-o-okay" *does all those things*

Mew: *Starts nailing that excuse of a man into submission* "Now say who's your daddy?"

Mewtwo: "ahn aaah. I-I apologize for mocking you earlier. I-I won't do it again I-I swear"

Mew: "I SAID.. WHO'S YOUR FUCKING DADDY YOU WORTHLESS COCKSLEEVE??"

Mewtwo: "HNNNH AAAAAHHH. YOU. YOU'RE MY DADDY. I AM YOUR FUCK PROPERTY. NOW PLEASE BREED ME HARDER, MASTER!!"

Mew: "That's my little good girl. I own your ass and you. ooh, OOH I'm gonna cum. I'm gonna shoot my load, Mewtwo! Deep inside your phat slutty man buns!! GET READY!!!" *FILLS HIS ANAL WALLS WITH HIS MANJUICE*

Mewtwo: *pants* *pants* *while laying flat on his stomach on the floor all exausted like a used up sexdoll*

Mew: That was good, you fat-assed male cumdump. We're gonna keep doing this once a day everyday so you'll better get used to this giant throbbing REAL cock! And next time I'll buy you some make-up and girly outfits and lingerie. Now go take a shower and wash that fuckboi cavity from all my man sperm planted in the insides of it. As for me, I'm gonna go take care of some REAL men business"

Mewtwo: :O ;_; okay pappy :* :* :*


three/3

>>36338557

why is mewtwo circumcised

>>36338582
Mewtwo is Jewish

Annnnnnnd this is why we say ' OP is a faggot ', newfags.

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>>36338571
you're*

originalgrammarnazi

>>36338539
>>36338557
>>36338571

what kind of fucking autism is this

>>36338539
How did it come to this? What went wrong?

>>36338571
>*does all those things*
kek

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>>36338539
>>36338557
>>36338571
God is orignally dead

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INT. RESIDENCE. A very dimly lit room, about eight by ten yards. Filing boxes are stacked in one corner. A desk sits to the east, with an air conditioning unit directly behind it. PORYGON-Z, in a red dress, is slouched on an office chair, eyeing his drink. There's a lamp on the desk, and while the room's dim light is vaguely orage, the lamp's light should be piercing and almost blue. It catches PORYGON's tail and part of his beak, while throwing his eyes into shadow. It should accentuate the birdlike shape of his head, making it almost alien.

PORYGON: Oh, Jesus. Ever think about knocking?

PORYGON puts aside his drink, a clear liquid in a water glass. The audience should not be able to tell whether it's alcoholic.

PORYGON: Listen, I--

PORYGON looks to the side briefly.

PORYGON: Listen. Does the phrase "that which does", does it mean anything to you?

PORYGON: --Well, of course not. But does it?

PORYGON straightens up. His head is down and his flippers are together, like a person wringing their hands. He looks aggravated and fearful.

PORYGON: I think someone's having their fun with me.

PORYGON: You've never heard that, specifically, that phrase.

PORYGON is silent for several minutes. The AC unit rumbles in the background. Finally, he speaks.

PORYGON: Makes very little sense as a sentence. That's how I, uh, noticed it.

PORYGON: This meaningless little sound-bite.

PORYGON: This is stupid to think about. Stupid. Stupid. But what am I supposed to think? It crops up. 'That which does'. Everywhere, in conversation, in...

PORYGON: No explanation of how it got there. Can't find it in books or papers. You ask them where they heard it, they don't know. They look at you like you're funny in the head, and they don't know. Suddenly, in a few days, people who've never spoken to each other are using this silly little drib to describe... Well, fate, tools, anything. Anything, really.

PORYGON: It's awkward, I mean. It's ungainly. "That which does". What which what?

>>36339944
PORYGON: It hurts your mouth to say it. It's all open and arch. It's... inconvenient. I mean it's an inconvenient, ugly set of syllables.

PORYGON sighs. When he resumes, his voice quavers.

PORYGON: Well, I didn't mean that you couldn't find it. Obviously, you can. Uh, Nietzsche. "That which", what, "which kills me", or-- "doesn't kill me, makes me stronger". As part of a sentence, yeah. Sure. Not, though, as... As a thing in itself, a descriptive...

PORYGON: ...An earworm comes from somewhere. A jingle, a... way of speaking. "Zee, can you hand me that-which-does from the, the toolbox"? Who'd say that? It's... Gross.

PORYGON becomes very still. He is talking with obvious effort, and his voice is shaking.

PORYGON: I wish to god that I could forget it, but I can't. Every time I hear that phrase, that meaningless little bit of garbage from nowhere, my skin starts to crawl.

PORYGON: It comes from nowhere, and it means nothing, and I can't get away from it.

PORYGON slackens. He looks tired.

PORYGON: I'm going to the farm, uh, Cooke's place. If I hear-- that-- I'm going to go nuts. If, uhh, "that-which-does" decides to drag me into the lake, or something, I guess you'll know what happened.

>>36338539
>>36338557
>>36338571
Please post more, I need more.