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Chapter Two

It was a rainy Saturday night, and Pete R. was in his basement lifting bags of potatoes. They were the closest things he had to weights. He wanted to be ripped and muscley like Sir Battlescarred.

Pete R. began daydreaming about running his hands across Sir's rock hard 6-pack of abs, and perhaps maybe even twisting his nipples around to be playful.

He wondered what it would be like to kiss Sir Battlescarred. Would his lips be soft and tender? Or would they feel like wet fur like Toffee's? Pete R. found himself gagging at the thought of Toffee's lips again.

Feeling a little blue, Peter thought of going to the party Confetti Carnivale was throwing to kick off the first day of summer. After all, she had said that all residents of Lalaloopsy Land were invited.

Pete R. slipped into his blue suede shoes and put on his sexiest fedora. He put on his tightest jeans, hoping that they would exaggerate the size of his penis. When he looked at himself in the mirror, he was quite depressed at the results, and put a jock strap on to make it look larger. He also drew abs on himself with a Sharpie in case anybody ripped off his shirt.

He examined himself in the mirror, tipping his fedora slightly and winking in the mirror. He was ready to roll.

Later

Pete R. swung the doors open and swaggered into Confetti's house, swarming with girls. It would be hard to find Sir in this huge mess.

But a chocolate fountain that Candle Slice O'Cake was practically drinking out of seemed to magnetically pull him to it.

What sorcery was this? A fountain cascading with chocolate?! Clearly Toffee wasn't here, or else she would have stolen it.

Pete R. dipped a finger into the everflowing chocolate and tasted it. So nice, creamy, and warm. He wondered if Sir's jizz tasted this wonderful.

Sir!! What was he doing, eating liquid chocolate? He needed to find Sir!!!

Pete R. shoved through the cluster of Loopsies, desperate to find Sir. He did find Sir's ex, Lady Stillwaiting. She always kept tabs on whatever he was doing.

"Hey, Lady, did you happen to see where Sir went? He owes me five bucks," Pete R. said casually.

Lady grimaced at him, her face stuffed full of pickleburgers. She frequently binge-ate whenever she felt depressed.

"Sir is MINE! Nobody will take him! Nobody, Canfly, you hear?!" she shouted, spitting pickleburger in his face.

Pete R. wiped chewed pickle off his face.

"Yes, well, I just wanted to get some money from him," he lied.

Lady gave him a hot glare, and had to finish chewing her food until she could answer properly.

"He's upstairs in Confetti's bedroom," she replied, the word "Confetti" seeming to burn her tongue as she said it. 

Pete R's fragile little heart sank. Sir and Confetti were probably fucking.

"Is there any chance I could join in and we could have a threesome?" he asked.

Lady choked on her next bite of pickleburger. Pete R. had to give her a falcon punch in the throat so that she wouldn't choke to death.

"You? A threesome with Confetti and Sir Battlescarred?" she cried.

A few Lalaloopsy turned and gave them quizzical looks. Only one of them strolled over to meet Lady and Pete R, and his name was Ace Fender Bender.

"Where exactly would this threesome be taking place?" he asked.

"There is no threesome, that's that. If you have sex with Confetti you get STDs," Lady snapped.

Suddenly, Pete R. had the greatest idea ever.

"Of course there is. I'll lead you to it, Ace," Pete R. murmured sexily. Ace felt disgusted, but still wanted to get in on the action.

Pete R. led Ace into a broom closet, where he hit Ace over the head with a broom and stole his clothes. He could do a great impression of Ace; his smooth voice, and they even had the same hair and eye color!

Pete R. put a bottle of bleach (uncapped) next to Ace, to make it appear that he had been drinking bleach and that's why he was unconcious.

Proud, Peter strutted out of the broom closet and upstairs.

There were several doors up there, as Confetti lived in what was practically a mansion, but Pete R. could locate which room Sir was in by the low moans coming from it. Sir's moans stimulated Pete R. in his pants, and he flung the door open.

He was surprised at what he saw. Sir was lying on Confetti's bed, while Confetti sat at the edge of the bed with a scornful expression on her face. Pete R. was in love with Confetti's silky nightgown--the thought of seeing Sir in it gave him a boner.

Rosy came out of the bathroom connected to Confetti's room, holding a small thermometer in one hand.

"Now, put this in your mouth, Sir, and don't say anything," she commanded, jabbing the thermometer into Sir's mouth so hard he almost choked. Pete R. imagined that the thermometer was his dick and almost pissed himself at that exciting thought.

"What's he doing here?" Confetti groaned, looking over to Pete R.

He felt disappointed; she'd recognized him! After all, why would she be sad to see Ace? Pete R. thought Ace was pretty sexy, after he'd seen him in his underpants in the broom closet.

"I, um, wanted to get in on a threesome with you two," he confessed.

Sir raised an eyebrow, and Confetti died with laughter.

"You thought we were fucking? You wish! I was just giving the asshole a Tylenol when he threw up in the hallway!" she snorted.

Pete R. came closer to Confetti's ear and whispered, "Do you think he's pregnant?"

Sir, in clear earshot, took out the thermometer and yelled, "I'm a man, what the hell is with you? I've got the flu."

"Which we'll never know for sure if you don't keep this in your mouth!" Rosy snapped, jamming the thermometer back into Sir's mouth.

Pete R. was very disappointed that he wasn't going to be in a threesome that night.

"Listen, Ace, if you're interested, there's a threesome going on downstairs with Suzette, Tippy, and Jewel. You could join that and make a foursome!" Confetti joked.

"Ace? That's Pete R, you dumbass," Sir snorted, almost choking on the thermometer.

Rosy yanked it out of Sir's mouth and said, "102."

Pete R. rushed over to Sir and felt his burning forehead. Sir slapped his hand away, feeling horrible enough. He didn't need that fucktard swooning over him.

"Get away, both of you. Sir Battlescarred is very sick and highly contagious!" Rosy ordered. She turned to Sir and then told him, "As for you, I reccomend you go home and get some rest."

Confetti stormed out of her room, pissed. She really wanted Sir to get down on her! 

Pete R. slowly backed out of the room. He thought he could still feel the warmth of Sir's forehead on his hand. It took a while to register in his mind he'd actually touched Sir Battlescarred! His heart soared with delight.

~end of chapter two~

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