Dud often ordered engelkuchens, but was forced to bail due to the long trek back to Leo's on short rations and a dead cell. Gemmy insisted on getting home before dark, so once again she ditched nassau. When the delivery guy came up empty one too many times, Carmine biked down bleeker and over the billyburg bridge, and stormed into the mission yard. A bewildered Vox rose from the bench in front of the fire pit. Bon soir monsieur, he said, bowing ever so slightly, what can I do for you this evening? ITS JUDGMENT DAY della rocca snarled, busting through the fence with the weaponized kuchen held high. Vax fled the scene in a flurry, making for the ferry at a hectic pace.
Unbeknowst to Vox, the russian oligarchs had hitched a ride on Barry's vinyard Ferry due to the fact the angels were lcosing in on all BALONEY BILLIONAIRES regardless of stripe. GET IT, STRIPE? As they cruised up the river heading for the Benjamin steakhouse, where they thought they could eat on the downlow not realizing nick necktie was on their tail, Barry pontificated on his phony baloney statistics which he had enhanced with the harvard endowment, which somehow grew ten billion during the pandemic while milk dud was starving .Of course we canot be seen togehter, bad form, Barry noted. We can blame it on ole pumpkin head. I'll meet you at the other place with a few bilions.
Ahoy, shouted Bop, who was out fishing ancchovies in the East river in a rowboat.
Aint nobody got time for that Vox yelped, scrabbling wildly for a cigaretto as Carmine, despite his peppe and parmigiano fueled pasta paunch, closed in behind
(its easy to see why hungry peeps might follow Carmine aruond, he obviously have extra food to share out in addition to being a pretty good bodyguard but thats aother story.)
NON MI ROMPI I COJONI CARMINE SCREAMED, hurling the kuchen at Vox with unanticipated force. SPLAT!
Vax was hammered with frosting mid flight and landed on the russian yacht smashing into Depp and Depardieu who was hiding from Macron or whatever idk
Gramsci's ghost swore under his breath. Waste of good kuchen, he said, noting the caloric value in a red notebook titled "gramsci's prison notes".
Neocities.