Chicka pop-bop-bop... chicka. Chicka bop-pop-shoowop... a bubba wump-a, a humpa, a thumpa, a chubawumba thumpa, a boom-boom bounce, bounce, bounce bitch, bounce.
That is the sound Jennifer Dragon makes when she struts her stuff. It's pretty hard to put into words, but imagine this... your town has just been destroyed by an F4 tornado, and out of the smoke, the cinders, the absolute destruction comes this woman about the size of a cannon. She has cankles, missing washtowels, oversized t-shirts, slanted tits - the whole package. She is huge. But she walks through it all like it's no big deal. Though her trailer has been trashed, she has only one current priority - to find sustinance.
She's gotta pack her face with something soon, or otherwise her stomach will open up a black hole. But there really isn't any food around - it's all been blown away by the twister. But she thinks some people are hiding their foodstuffs - and no doubt this is wise when Dragon comes snooping around - but nobody in all honesty had even found food, or were even thinking about hunger at the moment.
A middle aged man has salvaged his Lay-z-Boy recliner and placed it where his house once was. He sits in it - rubble about him, wishing he had a beer and a television, but when Dragon approached, this would be his entertainment...
"Where's your food now fat ass!" the man yells from his chair. But this, was a mistake.
Dragon's breath impulsed her own brain sockets an upon this hunger-induced rage, her bodess stormed toward the man at something like maybe less than five miles per hour. But this was very fast - she approached with such an anger, and with such spectacle, that the man was awe-struck at the lobes of fat which thundered towards him. He peers beyond the fat and looks at her skeleton - poor thing.
The man hadn't been this scared since the twister. And though his ears didn't pop when she arrived over him, his pupils dialated as Dragon's teeth sank into his flesh. She began to eat him alive. He would have tried to stop her - but it seemed that her breath was fire - cooking the flesh as she ate him.
A bird coos from a treelimb.
Apparently, Jennifer took some substantial amount of offense from this - so she threw out her hand and digipathically annihilated the bird - it burst into a temporary fountain of chemicals which dripped all over the man's carpet.
"You bitch" he moaned under her spell, "Finish the job!"
So she ripped off his thighs - the meatiest parts of his body - and threw his remnants into a vortex she created out of her own left slipper. She watched his body tumble into infinity as she ate the rest of him. She was a monster - a bitch - and a Dragon.
Wings burst from her shoulder blades - ripping through the flesh like a pulsating corpse-fuck and she flew away into the daylight - her fat body bobbing up and down - her face in a state of terminal drunkness - blood dripping from her mouth and smoke puffing out her nose.
What a state, what a wicked state is this, she thought to herself as she surveyed the destruction. But in the distance, someting captured her eye. There it was - the tornado. There she would take out her vengeance, and possibly find some of her food floating around inside it.
But as soon as she started off, an expert duck hunter from below fired a twelve gauge clusterfuck into her side - sending Dragon tumbling to the ground. She bashed into some bog which captured her massive body, but fucked up her hair.
The hunters approached her with weapons drawn - a wise decision.
"Hey haw!" one of the hunters called out, sending a Beagle dog to investigate the kill.
But as soon as his little white mitts dipped into the bog, a slithering tongue sprung from the muck and sucked the dog down under.
"Hoa, now." the hunter stopped everyone.
"Let's light this bitch up." one hunter suggested.
Weapons drawn, they aimed at the beast and fired. But when the bullets came near enough, the beast emerged, drenched in surge of mud and bog sloth - the Beagle dog captured in her gaping mouth. The bullets only got as far as her stomach - she ate them and spit out the dog, sending him ripping through the air at such a tremendous speed that it impaled itself on one of the shotgun barrels.
This defense from Dragon was only followed by a breath of pure fire. She bellowed and blew some of the hottest flames upon the men, and they all burned alive - shotguns left in cinders and rounds exploding in the heat. Her job here was done, so she flew up into the sky and dialed nine one one.
With flames comming out her mouth, "My bitch is on fire!" But she melted her cell phone - so she devoured it. It was at this point when she was dialed out of existance thank goodness.
