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Good Luck

Brent Holloway pulled the oars and lifted the blades out of the emerald water, which trickled off in brilliant spangles of light. The back of his neck was like cinnamon baked in the summer sun. His hands were worn leather. His penis, fresh dug tuber.

Leon waited on the beach with his aught six. He caught the line Brent tossed and helped him pull the skiff up on the sand.

“Did you bring the map?”


“Well this is gonna be a mess.”

Brent led the way up to the cabin. Leon pointed the aught six at the back of Brent’s head and squeezed. Brain shower.

Brent’s body collapsed like an old man’s dick. Leon searched through Brent’s pockets and found the map. He unfolded it and when he saw what it said a merry little smile pranced on his face. He bent down to unzip Brent’s fly and began to scrape the thick crust of dirt off Brent’s tuberous penis. He took the four-leaf clover from his vest pocket and stuck the stem into Brent’s urethra.

Leon-the-leprechaun was gonna get his fucking gold.

Date Written: March 09, 2004
Author: Ewan Snow
Average Vote: 3.5714

03/15/2004 qualcomm (3): macaroni.
03/15/2004 Will Disney (4): yeah this one's pretty macaroni
03/15/2004 Craig Lewis (3): Can it possibly be coincidence that this morning, less than 48 hours prior to St. Patrick's Day, both of the newly published shorts are Irish-themed?
03/15/2004 anonymous: This one is a coincidence. Didn't realize it was st. pat's.
03/15/2004 Jon Matza (4): I like that 1st paragraph.
03/15/2004 scoop (4): Yeah so do I. It would've been nice if it ended with the "mess" line, I think. Tuber=Penis=Gross=Truth
03/15/2004 Vampa1978 (4): A triumph.
03/15/2004 Benny Maniacs (3): Disgusting macaroni, but macaroni none the less. Nonetheless.