Truly Tasteless, by Dickfart

Tommy was trying to sleep, but was awakened by the sound of squelching, squeaking, and old people grunting.

"Ooooh, Morgana," said Grandpa in the other room. His nice lady friend was sleeping over, like Tommy and Chucky often did. That squelching was a little funny, though. They must have got into some funny putty. The kind Angelica plays with that makes what mommy calls no no noises.

"Lou. You still with me?" said Morgana. Grandpa had fallen asleep mid-coitus, but once he sprang back to consciousness the springs of the mattress squeaked louder than ever. "Oh. Oh!"

"Why..." said grandpa beneath labored breaths and wheezes. "Back in my day, ol' Dinkle here could eject FIFTEEN feet across the room. I used my grandpappy's ol' domino set at target practice."

"Lou. Focus. I'm nowhere near close," Morgan chastised.

Tommy laughed. It sounded like grandpa was having fun. Maybe if Tommy pulled out his screwdriver, he could break free from his crib and play with grandpa and his lady friend too.

However, when he did pull out his screwdriver, he found it was all covered in poo. Tommy went poop in his sleep, and now that there was poop on his hand, this made Tommy sad, so he cried. "WAH! WAH! WAH! WAH!"

"Jumping jackle sacks, that's Tommy," said grandpa.

"Just drown the little prick," Morgana purred. "How long has it been since you've had a booty call?"

"It's been 84 years," said grandpa in a zombie-like tone. He didn't hesitate to fill the tub with boiling hot water before attending to the ol' Dinkle shriveler wailing one room over. Stu and Deedee could always have another one, preferably not during one of grandpa's rare booty calls. God knows they had enough loud and jerky sex that shook the whole doggonned house, while ol' grandpa here was blue-balled. He'd show them. He'd show all of those ninny winkers what's for dagnabbit, or his name wasn't Lou Pickles!

The End