Grandpa Likes Drugs

Larry knew the minute he opened the window, he’d be caught. You’re not supposed to smoke weed at the Greasy Woodchuck Retirement Home. Well fuck. Larry’s weed was being bought by the state cause of his condition. The weed helped mellow him out and gave him the fucking munchees and he would go into the kitchen and shave a cat turd sandwich etc…
The first time Larry entered the Greasy Woodchuck, he knew it was the place for him. More than half the chicks were over seventy years old. Larry liked them young. He was in heaven. There were a fukload of social events. Everything from dances and picnics, to orgies and petting world. What he didn’t like though were the substance codes. Only blunts in the Jacuzzi, no gas huffing, roofies, or ludes, and no teabaging the fish pond.
Larry had been a bounty hunter all his life. And now it was time to settle down, sip some beer, eat some cafeteria food, and score some old beaver. He had been saving his whole career. Every time he got a paycheck it went straight to his habit. But the gorillas had been kind to him. In the summertime he would live in their cave, running around packing giraffes and anteaters.
Earl had become Larrys best friend at the Greasy Woodchuck. They would cruise the bingo halls trolling for trim. Earl had a fleet of Larks. He had a different Lark for every day of the week. He always had the newest Lark. Earl loved those fukin Larks. He fell in love with the handling. Though most didn’t have the acceleration in the high end. For that, he preferred a modified Rascal.
You’re probably not wondering why Larry got out of bounty hunting. He didn’t fully get out. He still worked freelance as a nark for senior homes. Bout as much action he could handle anyway these days. He had packed so much cabbage in his young days that his abdomen muscles are severely overdeveloped and he walks with a hunch back. It leans slightly to the left to counterbalance his Jensen. Or else the guy would walk in circles.
The courtyard was particularly smoky on the day it all went down. When the shit killed the fan. The damage those seniors did in one day was enough to shut the Greasy Woodchuck down for good. It was a good thing the ninjas didn’t catch Larry. He had done a few stupid things in his career. He single-handedly dismanteled the Krondorf cartel, he caught the Blarkfart Brothers. But the stupidest mistake he made was to arrest the third son of Hamdick Jinkins, master of the Tang Shredders Ninja Club.
For the last six months he had been on the run from ninjas. That’s why he changed his name to Larry in the first place. . . .
CHAPTER 2
Larry had been born in spring ’47 under the name Harry “The Limp Dick” Sasquatch. He had a normal child hood. Well, as normal as any child born from a hydraulic anus.
Harrys mother and father had been a repo team until Harry was old enough to take up archery. He became an archery fanatic and he started winning tournaments all over the galaxy. He was sponsored by all the heavy players in the arrow sports. The sweepstakes in some of the tourneys was enough to keep his dad into hookers and blow for years. Mom got her robotic chicken hooked on blow.
Harry had a brother until his brother blew up in a grain dust explosion. A very noble man, Harry’s brother. The town had weeped for weeks. For weeks not a single thing had been done in Blutark. The cry of a thousand lonely brothels howled into the night sky. His brother had been their main source of income for the past twelve years.
Once Larry left his parents nest, he started doing repos all around the world. Re-posessing cars had been his life. It was a fast life, with fast cars, fast women, and hard drugs. LSD was his favorite. Larry did a fukload of LSD in his early twenties. He didn’t have any common sense. He was riding motorbikes in gorilla suits with his dick strapped to the tail light. Someone tailgated him and Larry/Harry couldn’t fart cause it would make him pee and now his pee forked in uncontrollable directions.
Harry remembered his first true love. Well he didn’t remember it very well anymore. Those years on LSD did a number on his long term memory. What they didn’t touch was his toupee selection. In the back of a van he repo’d was a crate of merkins and a sack of toupees. Harry put the toups in his locker before the inventory did their rounds. He was yanking his hair out the minute he laid eyes on them.
Harry used to go to the park with his toupee on. Walking the toupee he called it. A fine conversation starter it was. When the women ran up to pet it, he would grab their butts. That’s how he met his first true love.
CHAPTER 03
Larry would break dance in the nude in front of the mirror every morning.
Then when he reached age thirty one, his Jensin stopped working. The turgor pressure went down to nothing overnight. And Larry bought his first hydraulics kit. He started hot rodding that sucker. Extended it another five inches. Tatoo’d flames down the side of it. The women went wild.
Flossie was her name. The first woman who liked him for who he was. They met by accident. Larry was testing beds all across the continent. Flossie was an educational video producer with a knack for documentary programming. The one on retirement homes was Larry’s favorite. So when they met in the flesh for the first time, Larry knew this one was special.
Flossie was twice his age. Larry found her irresistible. The way her bowling bags wobbled drove him out of his mind.

You Mean HOOKERS?

“All I can recommend is that you stop plowing those squirrels. Your dick is gonna fall off if you keep up this routine. It’s just a matter of when. Now if you’re still gonna fuck land mammals, despite everything we have talked about, then please wear protection. Next time you come in here with your ballsack clawed to bits will be the last time that I let you in this office.” Dr. Jum Tannis put away his stethoscope and pressed the intercom. “Darlene, I need a prescription for Ferd. Yes, the usual.”
Ferd jumped down from the examination table and put his shirt back on. “So level with me doc. You don’t want me fukin squirrels, marmots, badgers, otters, woodchucks, hamsters or voles? Well that still leaves mice, chipmunks, possum and tree frogs. I think I can live with that.”
“Good, cause there’s not much more we can do for you here. Even then, I would recommend a piece of pvc or garden hose as a rubber.” Said Dr. Jum Tannis.
“I saw something on the news about a stunt dick…”
“I would certainly not recommend a stunt dick at this time. The technology has a long way to go.”
“They said some of the celebrities are using them already and that they are getting great results.”
“Well that’s news to me. I talked personally to Dr. Houston myself, we’re old golf buddies. His company is the one that certifies all the new prosthetics with the FDA. He said there are still substantial risks involved with the latest stunt dicks. Though he does expect that they will be ready by this time next year.”
“Doc, I can’t wait till next year. I’m all alone up there. It gets so boring some times. If I can just plow something on a regular basis I will be happy.”
“What ever happened to Mable or Grezzy?”
“You know how women are. They want more to life than sex and farming turnips.”
“Maybe you haven’t found the right women. Have you tried a service or the internet?”
“You mean HOOKERS?” said Ferd, “Disgusting! That’s the last thing I need. Some crack whore breakin my bed apart.”
“I don’t know what to say Ferd. My next client is waiting, so I’m gonna have to get over there. Take care of yourself. We’ll see you in six weeks.”
Dr. Jum closed the door behind him. Ferd looked out the window at the squirrel running along the power line. He put his shoes on and walked to the check out desk.
“So we’ll see you in six weeks, ok?” said Jasmeal. She scribbled something on a card and gave it to Ferd. “Here’s your prescription. Have a fukin tits day.”
“Oh I will,” said Ferd, “I will indeed.” Ferd was talking but his mind was on that squirrel. He put on his raincoat and went to his truck. He unlocked the door and pulled out his climbing rope and grappling hook. The squirrel was still there calling for him, enticing him, teasing him. Ferd threw the hook over the top of the power pole and climbed up to the top. He sprayed essence of acorn on his crotch and crawled along the power line toward the trees.
When he reached the end of the power line, he reached his hand down into a big hole in the tree. There was a squirrel in there all right, Ferd could smell the squirrel piss from ten feet away. He fiddled around and pulled on a lever. The hole dialated and opened big enough so that he could walk in. There was a ladder and a large arrow pointing up. Ferd climbed up the ladder into the inside of the tree.
He was two stories up in the tree and he could hear a large grumbling noise. It sounded like squirrels fuking. Ferd started climbing faster. The ladder opened into a big hall. There was a squirrel orgy going on. Ferd whipped out his dick, put on his squirrel suit and started fukin squirrels.
Everything was going fine until one of the squirrels recognized Ferd. “Hey, that ain’t no squirrel, that’s a humanoid,” it said.
“No I am not!” said Ferd. “I am just a lonely squirrel like yourself. I just need a little good clean powerfukin. So everybody, lets just get back to our orgy.”
The squirrels kept on fukin and plowin and pakin and humpin. Ferd was about to bust a nut for the fourteenth time when he felt something shoot up his ass. He turned around and there was a giant squirrel giving him the cornhole patrol.
“I ain’t gay, dammit,” said Ferd, “get yer curly dick out of my fukin ass or I’ll turn around and knock your block off.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” said the giant squirrel, “you wouldn’t want to draw any unwanted attention. Not with three hundred angry squirrels after you.”
Then another giant squirrel walked in the door. “Well what do we have here?” said the second giant squirrel. “A little orgy, a little booze, good thing I brought the reefer. Hey Milt let me go a round on that squirrel.”
“This ain’t no squirrel, it’s a pesky human buttin’ his pecker in where it don’t belong. So I figured I’d teach him a thing about how us subspecies do the deed.”
“Well send him over to my room when you’re done with him. It’s been a long time since I drilled me one of them humans. Want to rip a doob?”
“Naw, I’m about to paste,” said the first giant squirrel.
Then he blasted a nut and Ferd blew up in a puff of wads.
“How’s that for a taste of your own medicine?” said the first giant squirrel.
“Ya gotta use that duct tape Milton, that’s what its there for,” said the second giant squirrel.
“Time to get stoned,” said the first giant squirrel.
They got stoned.

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