Read Online Hello Devilfish! by Ron Dakron - Free Book Online

me—give up on sense—embrace the glowing pop goddess as she gilds your neurons with corporate goop. What else you gonna do—read? Let’s thrive in happy bliss Japan! And get entranced like me—by that shiny café with a big-eyed Lucite sea slug on top. Whose neon speech balloon said Busty Slug! Let’s Looking For Fun. I see much of a comedy here as I snort till snot gilds my nose—only the Japanese could meld the preteen sleaze of Hello Kitty with the ickiest sea beast alive. And so ha ha I giggled while my grisly fate throbbed only footsteps away.
    My needs are simple—all I want is chaos and steak! And maybe those two chicks in fish costumes hawking slug samples out front—one hottie dressed as a seahorse and the shorter one as a clam, both chanting “Sea slug! Get slug!” at bored commuters. I already pictured them both in my illicit condo, stripping select yummy zones while we writhe in our lust-gummi bed. Hey—how hard can it be to meet a few girls in franchise garb? I gotta do something while I wait on my match.com date—she’s very squid obsessed!
    Duh—what I should’ve done was tromp back to Buraku town and avoided large trouble! I have a fun trouble. Anyway, back to my throbbing fate—which ain’t all that’s throbbing. I was sprouting major wood from watching Seahorse Chick hand out pureed slug samples, her perky tits cupped with green she-beast latex. She must be luscious sweaty in that costume—I got dehydrated just watching her. Either that or from that shrimp-head crepe I scarfed from that dead doc’s fridge—you never know. Sure you do—Hello Doug! Lies are fun with mouths. And mouths are fun with pricks—something about that seahorse hottie’s rubber tongue twanged every male synapse in my spermy medulla. “Treats from the sea,” she passed out more samples, “very slimy!”
    â€œBargains for the insane!” Clam Girl wiggled her fake shell. Hey—they speak-a the Manglish too! All the hip kids are talking it. “What you got?” I leaned in. “Tits from the sea—very horny treats!” she danced around, “eat my writhing cannibal slop!”
    â€œNooooo thanks,” I winced—who eats sea slugs? They’re like crossing boogers with spiders—and this gunk was worse. I give you the Slugwich—puréed frozen soft-serve mollusk swirled on a rice-cake cone. You could even get sea urchin spikes or carp-scale sprinkles on top—your slug needs big flavor! But I was starving—I hadn’t wolfed anyone down for hours! Us Devilfish are semper-vores—we kill to eat and eat to kill. It’s like sex with pancakes and strangers! Wait, sorry—that’s just the Manglish jingle some nearby breakfast dive kept playing. It’s happy time with syrup—it’s sexing with your pancake! And speaking of sex syrup, where was my match.com date? She’s later than Jesus! And twice worth the wait—in her pics she smoldered like a thermite nightingale. My cock is a lush viper snake!
    â€œWhy you tinted so blue ?” Seahorse Chick grabbed my arm, “from a furby party? From Comic Con?”
    â€œIt’s a full-body Yakuza tattoo,” I smirked. Smirking fun for everyone!
    â€œAnd what’s with your pinky?” she pointed at my bandaged stump.
    â€œYou know—bad honor, gangsta boss says cut off my finger,” I fibbed about being Yakuza.
    â€œMakes sense,” Seahorse Chick shrugged.
    â€œGoop from the ocean,” Clam Girl bowed to a German dude, “horribly tasty!”
    â€œIst gut?” he puzzled.
    â€œNope!” Clam Girl yelled. Not to worry—he’s German. They’ll eat anything—pigs, cabbage, history—anything except pureed slugs. “Ewww,” that Rhine monkey passed his sample back. “I’ll try it,” I grabbed his slug muck. Which tasted like hippos