Kool-Aid Man Goes Twenties

Chapter One: The Legging of the Boot

It was just another day in the Roaring Twenties. Prohibition had taken effect, but it didn't stop partygoers. New York City was especially booming. Jazz and Big Band played on every corner, and one man strode and snapped his fingers with the beat. He wore flared trousers, many decades ahead of the style. His top hat tilted, its brim touching his brim. The man was headed towards a particularly swingin' club, The Rusty Trombone. He developed a taste for the foundations of swing, and his jazz repertoire was unrivaled. He wore the same expression mostly. He tucked his hands into his pockets and withdrew a five-dollar note. His lack of money would soon change. He smiled, straightened his hat and bow tie, and jumped through the wall.

"OHHHH YEAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" he bellowed as the waitresses and prostitutes began to flock near him. His luscious eyebrows perfectly upon his face, the latter seemingly carved from glass. All the men raised their mugs and motioned him over to a table. Each man held a small hand of cards and had a cigar dangling from their lips. The table was covered in chips and money, in the center was a deck of cards. "Eyyy, Kool-Aid Man! Whatchu doin' here, ah?" smirked a man at the head of the table. The man's stack of money greatly exceeded that of every other man sitting at the table. "Come and-a play, buddy boy." said the man, whose nametag identified him as ǝuodɐɔ ןɐ. Kool-Aid Man sat down and ordered himself a beer. "Hey, this guys with me, ah? Hook 'im up, Marcie." "Yes, Mr. Capone" replied a blonde waitress with curly hair and a tight dress.

The cards were dealt, and Kool-Aid Man knew that he was holding a winning hand. Capone put down his cards and puffed his cigar. "Full house, buddy-boy" he smirked as he watched the other men push their chips his way. Kool-Aid Man layed his cards down. The other men saw that he carried a straight flush, and everyone pushed their chips back towards Kool-Aid Man, including Capone. The occupants at the bar gasped. Mr. Capone never loses.... was among the whispers. "Eh, it was a fluke, ah? Won't happen again." Kool-Aid Man proceeded to swindle Capone as the night went on, robbing him essentially of all of his possessions he carried with him. Including the clothes on his back and the cigar on his lip. "OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Kool-Aid Man yelled as he held all of the chips at the table. His juice had turned a bronze colour as a result of his copious alcohol consumption, and he took the money, clothing, and chips and began to make his way out. He stumbled and sloshed. The women in the bar claimed "he was getting them all wet". Capone called out "I'll getcha for this! Next time around, you'll be sorry!" But Kool-Aid Man didn't slow down. He reached the door and staggered back down the block, down to his one-room apartment. He fumbled for his keys, pulled them out. Dropped them.
"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK."
He opened the door with much effort, and there, sitting on his bed. was Marcie. Kool-Aid Man dropped his load and said
"Little Debby, amma bowda cut-a nigga HEART OF THE CARDS if you don't tell me da fuq u doin' on my bed, NIGGA!"
"...."
To Be Continued

End of Chapter One.





Chapter Two: Kool-Laid
Warning: Reader's discretion is advised. The following chapter includes graphic sexual content.

"Y-y-yoooo, weren't you th-that waitress from the **hic** bar?" Kool-Aid Man stammered.
"Yeah, baby. It's my job to show you a good time, both inside the bar and out." she cooed seductively. She crossed the room, her long legs taking her to him quickly, her hands meeting his barrel chest before he could react. She slowly started to slip off her clothing. First her lacy dress, then her thigh-high fishnet leggings and her lacy bra. She is wearing so much lace that southern belles get jealous. "I just love big juicy ones like you" she says in a sexy tone. Finally, she slips off her lacy panties to reveal a long hard, veiny, throbbing knob an elegant, shaved ice container. She maintained a G-string and moved in to seduce Kool-Aid Man. As Macie began to press her diamond-stiff nipples against him, Kool-Aid Man began to spew red vomit all over her breasts and down her body. After the two-minute onslaught finished, Macie -now thoroughly doused- reeked of alcohol and cherry powder mix, her milky white skin dyed a deep red from the juicy explosion.
"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!" Kool-Aid Man called, feeling much better now. He let her use his shower to clean up, and after she was done, they made hard, passionate sex all night long. Kool-Aid Man knows how to phuckabich.
"OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.... OHHHHH..... OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!....."

"YEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

After giving Macie a taste of what he's made of, Kool-Aid Man dumped the unconscious meat sack on the curb, as any good gentleman would do, Kool-Aid Man then closed and locked his door and made his way to bed. Tired from his recent conquest, he turned out his bedside lamp and hit the sheets. Kool-Aid Man doesn't use candles for sex. Kool-Aid Man lets his package do the talking.

End of Chapter Two



Chapter Three: Kool-A.I.D.S

Kool-Aid man woke up with a severe itching sensation deep in his pants and running up his shaft. He knew he shouldn't have let Marcie do that kinky sh*t last night. He was also severely hung over. He made his way into his makeshift kitchen and made himself his favourite breakfast - toaster streudels and Tang. Kool-Aid Man isn't about the cannibal nigga life. Still urping, he decides to take a look outside for the harlot he dumped on the sidewalk. Birds had recently shat on her, and she lay amidst puddles of excretory fluid and urine. Kool-Aid Man smirked, as he always likes a hoe to get what she deserves.
"OHHHHHHHHHHHH YEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!"

Kool-Aid Man decided to go to the doctor, as his glass rod was beginning to burn and itch immensely. Upon reaching the doctor's office, he sat down and patiently waited to be seen. Upon being let in, Kool-Aid Man dropped his pants and let his length be seen. It had a bunch of chips in it, and it was leaking a bit. The doctor diagnosed Kool-Aid Man with "Kool-A.I.D.S", the human equivalent being crabs. Even though nobody in the twenties knew about A.I.D.S, this doctor did because she is the sh*t. She gave him some polish and told him to apply it twice daily. Kool-Aid Man left the doctor and went back to his place, where Macie was still spread out on the ground. A homeless man had his knob in her mouth. She deserved it. He still didn't know how she got through his window. Kool-Aid Man decided to be courteous. Having once laid amidst the puddles of cum and piss, he placed Macie in the nearest dumpster. You could say that Kool-Aid Man likes to take out the trash. His piles of money were still near his door, and Kool-Aid Man likes to shop. Kool-Aid man stuffed some "hunneds" in his pocket and walked out the door, setting his destination as his main nigga's house
....

To Be Continued

End of Chapter Three

I like it. Eagerly awaiting the next chapter.

Thank you, now I don't have to do this.



I don't have to do this now, right?

Updated. Kool-Aid Man Goes Twenties, Chapter Two, Kool-Laid has been posted.

L wrote:Thank you, now I don't have to do this.



I don't have to do this now, right?

You never had to in the first place. The offer was that you do a good job and get Token King. Whether or not to go for it is up to you.

Updated. Kool-Aid Man Goes Twenties, Chapter Three, Kool-A.I.D.S has been posted.

buckthefuffalo wrote:

L wrote:Thank you, now I don't have to do this.



I don't have to do this now, right?

You never had to in the first place. The offer was that you do a good job and get Token King. Whether or not to go for it is up to you.

Wat....so he's already making one, yet I can still continue that trainwreck of a story I was making to get token king? o-o

If you can best me. Remember this. Never let your stories lack entertainment value. Once it's lost its ability to make the audience think, you're washed.

The lack of fried chicken and watermelon disappoints my eyes.

That's the 2000s and 2010s.

Korasi wrote:If you can best me. Remember this. Never let your stories lack entertainment value. Once it's lost its ability to make the audience think, you're washed.

Rubba dub dub in the tub.

Go wash your HEART OF THE CARDS, Pikachu Rose.

Korasi wrote:Go wash your HEART OF THE CARDS, Pikachu Rose.

Um....I'll....I'll try....

You had better, baby.

Korasi wrote:You had better, baby.

Oh great I'm still being forced. ;-;

Don't let a big man calling you baby intimidate you.

Die

For you? Gladly.

Okay.