#v; squanching

[squanched-blog]

Squanchy, don't tell my friends but I'm such a closet fan of The Flesh Curtains! *fanboy-glomps you* -Ocean Punk Historical Gaslamp Fantasy Cosplay!Marko Azim Dippel V The Werevhoulbie Anon of The Monstrel Empire

       At first, all he could do was blink and stare, completely           aghast by the fact that he’d just been tackled out by a           complete stranger and was not being held at gunpoint.           What the hell was this, anyway? It took him a few           moments to fully register what they had said to him,           still utterly confused by the way they ambushed him           like that.

                 Oh.                        OH.

       That explained it.

       “Woah, hands off the merchandise there, kid. I dunno           what you’ve been squanching lately, but ya sure don’t           smell like it’s been anything good.” He made a mental           note to tell all of this kid’s friends about his dirty little           secret as revenge. Well. If he ever met any of them,           anyway. Not that he necessarily looked forward to that           happening, given how ridiculously enthusiastic this guy           was.

[squanched-blog]

i thought you were dead

          “Who the fuck’s been squanchin’ lies about me.”

[squanched-blog]

@ricksinchez

       “Rick Sanchez! What’ve you been squanchin’ lately, you           crazy old bastard?” He threw his arms up in exclamation,           a good portion of the beer that was in his hands sloshing           over the side of the bottle and sinking into the carpeted           floor of the man’s living room. Or the mans daughter’s            living room, technically. Whatever. Same difference.           As far as he was concerned, it was still Rick’s place,           especially considering the fact that his daughter and           son-in-law were nowhere to be seen. 

       What a shame. Beth was actually pretty sweet. It was           probably good that Jerry wasn’t around, though. Rick           hated that guy, and if Squanchy wanted to see a fight,           he’d go to that one bar where people bet on fights           between dog/rooster hybrids. Man, was that place a           hoot! But he could watch hellish abominations fight           each other to their deaths any old day. Granted, he           could probably visit with Rick any old day too, but           not when he had the house to himself. Or mostly to           himself, anyway. Where were his grandkids?           Probably off doing homework like a bunch of nerds,           huh?