69 hues of deez nutz 11: Ferris Bueller's Gay off

About the Author:

Having created a first draft of "Ferris Bueller's Gay Off" that ultimately had to be discarded because it was identical to the 1986 Classic "Highlander" if Roxanne Hart was replaced with Mr T and the Queen soundtrack was replaced with Electric light Orchestra, Buster Manwomb decided to experiment with the harder stuff before trying again. Moving from powdered eggs to French's Extra Spicy Dijon Mustard, they sincerely hope the end product was worth the blood loss.

Chapter 1: Sonc the Hedhog fuck mah wife!

"Hi, I'm Ferris Bueller the hedgehog, and I can't have children!" A man that looked like Matthew Broderick wearing a feather banana hammock, a wig made of blue pylons, and comically oversized sneakers looked STRAIGHT into the camera. "Look!"

He held up a jar that looked like he hadn't rinsed out the grape jelly before masturbating into it. The fruity coagulated mass of baby syrup contained but one sperm.

"My seed is watery and weak!" Ferris Bueller the hedgehog loudly lamented. "I am as virile and sexually capable as this sample is untainted by grape jelly! Look upon it! It has but one sperm, and it wants to be a Twitch Streamer!"

"Fertilize me, father!" the sperm wailed. "I wish to convince the masses to like and subscribe!"

"A failure!" Ferris Bueller the Hedgehog cast the jar of but one screaming sperm into the fire. "I have one sole hope to bear progeny, and the testicles involved are not my own!"

Ferris Bueller the hedgehog twisted his face to the camera. His grin was wide and toothy. Why were his gums bleeding? Who cares about dental hygiene when you can not have kids. "Now I know what you are thinking?! WHO, is fit to make me, Ferris Bueller the Hedgehog, of stiff penis and limp balls, some babies?" Ferris Bueller the Hedgehog's eye twitched. "LET me answer your question, with, a question!"

Nobody was really asking, but Ferris Bueller the Hedgehog slammed the kitchen table he sat at to give the built suspense an explosive climax. "WHO-"

He spaced out.


"STARRED IN GAMES AS WRETCHED AND EROTIC AS SONIC BOOM: THE RISE OF LYRIC ON… on… Fuck, was it the Apple Pippin? one of those forgettable consoles… Meh. AND WHY? How could a hedgehog star in games so wretched that the lesser of fans would rend the skin off their own flesh to induce a sense of comparative pleasure? Well, because He's just so COOL!"

Ferris Bueller the Hedgehog lost himself a moment, wailing about how cool Sonic the Hedgehog was cool. Just so cool. So very fucking cool. Oh his fucking god how could one hedgehog be so fucking cool? Fuuuuuuuuuck.

As he wailed, he slammed his head onto the table, making the salt and pepper shaker in front of him jump like mexican beans.

Returning to reality, Ferris Bueller the Hedgehog snapped towards the camera, the flesh of his face trailing a full second behind where his skull had moved. "I will accept no children of unworthy seed, and that is why I need Sonic the Hedgehog to fuck my wife! Please fuck my wife, Sonic the hedgehog! Fuck my wife PLEASE, Sonic the Hedgehog! SANC! FUK WIF! AAAAAAAH-"

Sonic the Hedgehog had no idea who this strange and hedgehog man was that had broken into his kitchen. All he knew was that he definitely lost his appetite for the Lucky Charms he was eating: A baffling amount of Ferris Bueller the Hedgehog's spittle had sprayed into the milk.

"First of all… Will you please stop banging your head against the table?" Sonic asked. "I got it for a steal on Craigslist. I don't want to actually pay money on a replacement."

Ferris Bueller the Hedgehog gasped as Sonic spoke, his eyes tripling in size. "Gasp, you spoke to me!"

"Second question" Sonic blurted. " How the fuck do you have a wife?"

"I have her right here!" Ferris Bueller the Hedgehog held up a twitching burlap sack, the dimensions of which were perfect for holding a liter of kittens.

"Oh, Jesus shitting fuckbiscuits." Sonic the Hedgehog retched as Ferris Bueller the Hedgehog upended the bag.

A beachball-sized latex mask of Supreme Leader Snoke fell onto the table with a greasy *plop!*. It was filled with vaseline and Hotwheels. A greasy Hulk-themed minivan was pushing through of it's eye sockets.

"Her name is Bob!" Ferris Bueller the Hedgehog declared. "I beg of you, Sonic the Hedgehog, fire of my imagination, target of my worship, dominator of my porn drive! Please, impregnate my wife!"

"Are you sure that *you're* the reason you can't have kiiiiiiii-" Sonic trailed of as the Hulk-themed minivan popped out of Bob's eye socket, and their gazes met. Sonic was entranced. Off-key 70s synth music swelled in the background, in conjunction with the swelling of his loins. A thin line of drool ran down the corner of his mouth. "I'll do it."

"Yeeeeeee!" Ferris Bueller the Hedgehog squealed joyously. "Where you you want Bob to be when she receives your genitals? Your bedroom? The couch?"

"No." Sonic said, entranced by Bob's greasy curves, he lithely climbed onto the table. "Here. Now. We sex here on the table."

"Cool!" Ferris Bueller the Hedgehog exclaimed. "Can I watch?"

""Have you listened to any of Gary Glitter's music on the radio since he was caught doing the Priestly Mambo?" Sonic asked.

"Shamefully, yes." Ferris Bueller the Hedgehog answered.

"There's your answer." Sonic confirmed before slowly sitting with his legs apart on the table, turning to Bob. Slowly, he hike up his pants. "Now… Bob… are you ready to receive my oft-caricatured love twinkie?"

Bob sat motionless on the table. Bless her heart, she was probably star struck.

"Then prepare, my latex sperm receptacle, for my Amaziiing PEEEENIS!"

There was a hobbit door in between Sonic's milky smooth legs. It pushed open with a slow creak.

"Gasp!" Ferris Bueller the Hedgehog gasp as Sonic the Hedgehog's penis walked out.

"Hidilly doodily! Who's getting the diddly?"