A Scary Cunt

A Scary Cunt desperately looked for a bottle of wine to share. It would have been an unusual activity, to my grandpa, but not to the Cunt, who thought it would be awe-inspring. Bizarrely, a bottle of wine would be the thing that was chosen.

A Scary Cunt craved for a can of coke that they liked to put in the bath with him. One might find this to be a fairly unusual approach to life, to my children, but not to the Cunt, who felt that the idea was fun. Remarkably, a can of coke was the thing that was selected.

A Scary Cunt desperately looked for a can of coke that they would rub on his belly. It is a bizarre undertaking, to my grandpa, but not to the Cunt, who assumed that it was in fact, entertaining. A can of coke would be the thing that was selected.

A Scary Cunt desperately needed a stretchman that they would sometimes demolish. One might say this is a bizarre action, to my grandma, but not to the Cunt, who assumed that this idea was magnificent. Bizarrely, a stretchman being the thing opted for.

A Scary Cunt searched for a sponge that they would throw. It might be an astonishing undertaking, to me, my mum and my dad, but not to the Cunt, who had decided that the idea was spectacular. Honestly, a sponge was the thing that was opted for.

A Scary Cunt desperately desired a bottle of coke that they would occasionally throw. It might have been a fairly original thought, to me, my mum and my dad, but not to the Cunt, who assumed that this idea is epic. A bottle of coke is the thing to select.