The Retarded Cunt

The Retarded Cunt desperately searched for a spade that they would rub on his belly. It was a fairly original thought, to me and my children, but not to the Cunt, who considered that this idea was miraculous. Strangely, a spade was the item that was chosen.

The Retarded Cunt always carried a sponge to put down their trousers. It would be a surprising suggestion, to my dad, but not to the Cunt, who thinks it would be amazing. Bizarrely, a sponge was the chosen thing.

The Retarded Cunt always had with them a pencil sharpener that they would sometimes drop. It is an unusual suggestion, to me, my mum and my dad, but not to the Cunt, who assumed that it was in fact, sublime. Remarkably, a pencil sharpener was the chosen thing.

The Retarded Cunt searched for a stapler to drop. This might appear to be a funny operation, to my grandma, but not to the Cunt, who assumed it was awe-inspring. Honestly, a stapler would be the item that was chosen.

The Retarded Cunt desperately craved for a can of coke that they would occasionally try to nail to the wall. It would be an original action, to everybody you know, but not to the Cunt, who had decided it would be wonderful. Who would have imagined, a can of coke is the item that was chosen.

The Retarded Cunt desperately looked for a can of coke that they would often experiment on. One might find this to be a fairly exciting approach to life, to you and me, but not to the Cunt, who thinks that this idea was magnificent. Who would have thought, a can of coke is the thing to opt for.