Talk:Jabberwock/@comment-92.32.101.142-20150204223137/@comment-24561895-20150211060144

I slowly recollect myself and calmly consider my options;

1: Start running into the woods and hope nothing else tries to get me on the very unlikely chance she hasn't taken interest yet and snatches me up for herself.

2: Ignore the fact that you have rock hard timber and try to respectfully if not graciously ask for directions to get back home in which she will probably push me down and have her way with me or rip my head off for having the gall to speak to such a high-class Lady without the request of an audience.

3: Completely ignore the little voice in my head telling me to anything but to sexually assault her and do just that.

Shrugging off common sense and wisdom, I instead tell myself that I haven't had enough to drink, pull out a pocket-sized bottle of 150 proof Vodka, knock it back and promptly slip into a coma.

It wasn't long before I found myself under an archway covered with white and red roses and wearing a groom's tuxedo with a beautiful bride at my side with a bashful, shit-eating grin on her maws and face. I smile back and am thankful it wasn't a dream afterall. The Cheshire judge smiles wickedly and pronounces us husband and wife.

I discover that the ceremony doesn't end with just a kiss, as the consumnation is supposed to be in front of all her family and other Wonderland attendees with their husbands who are also getting into the mood, ensuing a pink, fuming orgy in which we are the stars of the event. Looks like my wood wasn't taken care of until now as she pulls me into the sky and we ravish each other mid-air. Her silky hair, smooth scales, and juicy lips do their very best to take me in as we just can't get enough of each other.

The honeymoon is even better, as my hips give and right shoulder are in searing pain for a month after the week-long retreat. My pelvis isn't faring too well either. Oh boy, someone's getting ready for round eight. Ehehehe.

The End

Epilogue

My family scorns me for hooking up with such a woman, but I simply don't care. The arranged marriage back home was with a prissy bitch after our dough. My ex-fiancee bawls at her inheritance as I give her the birdie through my wife's looking glass and we both rub it into the whore's face by perfoming exhibitionistic sex right as my mother tries to yell at me again. My father just leers and tells me not to come back into the mansion anymore before breaking his contact mirror.

And who says we're mad?

What is normal anymore?

If we're all mad, that just makes those naysayers and goody-two shoes the real oddballs. Love has no boundaries here, as they live in a world made of rules and discrimination. Content with my new home, I end today's blog and cuddle with my pregnant wife (We're having twins!).