Her Fucking King

Her Fucking King desperately looked for a chocolate bar that they would break. It should be a new activity, to some, but not to the King, who had come to the conclusion that the idea was awe-inspring. Remarkably, a chocolate bar is the thing to choose.

Her Fucking King found a crown that they would occasionally hug. It was considered to be a funny thing to do, to me, but not to the King, who thought that this idea was epic. Bizarrely, a crown was the chosen thing.

Her Fucking King desperately needed a sword that they sometimes worship. This seems to be a fairly new idea, to my mum, but not to the King, who considered that the idea was simply life. Honestly, a sword was the item that was chosen.

Her Fucking King desperately desired a computer that they would put up their bum. It should have been a fairly astonishing action, to my dad, but not to the King, who considered that the idea was magnificent. Honestly, a computer being the chosen thing.

Her Fucking King carried a big sponge that they would sometimes rub on his belly. One might consider this to be a fairly extraordinary thing to do, to me, but not to the King, who assumed it would be magnificent. Who would have imagined, a big sponge was the thing that was opted for.

Her Fucking King wanted a spade that they would sometimes cuddle. One might consider this to be a fairly exciting exercise, to some, but not to the King, who considered that it was in fact, miraculous. A spade is the item to select.