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Yet more of the infamous history between Vogelson and Repanse...
Wolf Lord Vogelsson: oh Repanse, thy dear sweeteth Repanse, thy luminous
beauty knoweth no bounds-
Wolf Priest Clayekk: -she should be bound-
Vogelsson: -he should be *what*?!!!
Wolf Scout Fellatio: -speaking of bounding-
Clayekk: no, no, my lord-
Vogelsson: -please, the Primarchian English!! *Milord* me young bucksome
lad, **Milord**!!
Clayekk: okay, okay, milord-
Vogelsson: Goodeth! Now, whateth did thy speak evilly about on my dear
Repanse's bounteous bosom?
Fellatio: -remember when you, milord, bound me up on that "experience
campaign" with the other young and tootsome Wolf Scouts?-
Clayekk: no, no, milord, I didn't say *bound*, I said *round*, as in I hope
her girthy hips prove worthy of many pups, milord!-
Fellatio: -and after that "exercise", we played "pin the tail on the
feminate Wolf Scout", and you chose me to-
Vogelsson: what beith thy thinking, mine Clayekk? What talk give you of
thy beauteous Repanse's hips?
Clayekk: you know, for the pups she'll have after tonight, you know *wink*
*wink*, after the honeyfullmoon *nudge, nudge*, which reminds me, I brought
this paper sack for her-
Vogelsson: what, what are thine words meaning?!! What in the Fenrisian
Style of Manship are thy moist lips parting with?
Clayekk: no no, milord, I doth not mean her fugly, I just thought the
paper sack might, um, might, um, um, might reduce hyperventilation on your
part for tonight's "excursion"-
Fellatio: -and then we played "Combat Twister", and you got the "Invade the
Port of the Brown Circle, remembering the ways of your Greek forebears", the
spot I was already on, and so you-
Vogelsson: Damn it, my beloved Wolf Priest, give nay to the accursable
paper sack, what are you talking about my adorned Repanse having pups?
Fellatio: -boy I couldn't sit on those hard chowhall bleachers for a full
Fenrisian year-cycle!-
Clayekk: um, milord, you have been instructed on thine Tyranic Hivebirds
and Cthullian Cudbees, yay???
Vogelsson: What?
Clayekk: that your *shudder* sweet Repanse should expect to be "with pups",
as it were, after your deeds have been accomplished-
Fellatio: -and then you slipped that mickey into my combat rations when we
were the only survivors during the Donner's Fall campaign-
Vogelsson: What are thine brains yammering about? How could mine fair
Repanse, composed of such manly forms, give birth to mine offspring, though
longing as I am to have pups to comfort me in old age?
Fellatio: -now that's what I call, a sticky situation!
Clayekk: um, milord, you, um, um, doth realize Repanse is of thine womanly
disposition?
Vogelsson: What?!!!! Repanse is thine woman?!!! uhhh uhhh uhh,
Fenris...spinning....brain....dizzying....knees....weakening.....waste
depositor....dilating...uhhh hhh, quick my beautiful charmer of a Wolf
Priest, get me to mine sickbed, call off the wedding, and bring me that
paper sack, so I may dispossess the liquids of my grinding and gnashing
mouth...
Clayekk: yes, milord.
Fellatio: so what are these "hamsters" that these Dark Angels keep talking
about? They sound so exotic and intriguing....
Well, maybe you had to be there for it. But like i said, Repanse is Jon's
chick, his main squeeze, etc etc...
End.
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