Yeah, that’s stupid. It’s blatantly the other way around. Only thing Johnson has fucked other than his horrible wife is people’s lives. And probably some rentboys.
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Hahaha, sadly all too true!
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Please post it hahahah.
DM it to Neddy… we don’t need ‘Boris fan fiction’ on here, haha. I know you’re not a fan but that’s what it’s called, right?
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I don’t want to read about Boris’ Johnson.
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Hahaha!
Doesn’t take too much to frig the AI tbh. Just throw in some delicious words like ‘engorged’, ‘moist’ and so on. Then the AI just delves into a sex fest 
My inkwell is dry apparently….
I’m not as extreme as some of you guys but I really do hate the Tory party and everything they’ve done to this country since they’ve been in power. But that’s a different topic and I don’t like talking about them either. They make me angry.
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I want to see how close it is to real life.
Chapter 2 please.
What if he’s killed in a massive electrical fire?
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Not sure it’d bother them, they’re used to the fiery gates of Hell, working for Satan and all…
I’’d never seen such a massive Michael Fabricant as this before in my life. Carrying a Berrics deck like it was nothing. Cariumas laced up real tight.
“It’s a new thing,” he said, “just came out last week.”
The game was called Berries. It was an arcade-style fighting game with an unusual premise: the player would take on the role of one of two berry monsters—a raspberry or a blueberry—and fight to collect more berries than their opponent. The catch was that they were also trying to steal other players’ berries while doing so. I couldn’t tell if it was a satire or just another way for people to get into fights over video games, but it had already taken off among the kids.
I knew it was a cover for moneyed Scientologist backside flip extraordinaires to get into kids heads.
Fabricant put down his deck and picked up his phone. “Hey, babe. You still at home?”
He looked up again. “What? Oh, sorry, no. Still at work.” He dialed a number and spoke in a rapid stream of nonsense. Then he hung up.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “My girlfriend is always calling me. She’s really needy.”
It was Buildafire and Warwick’s first date. It wasn’t going well. It would have been going well, were it not for the fact that Warwick kept on saying things like “I’m a fire-breathing dragon!” and Buildafire had to keep telling him he couldn’t breathe fire.
“You can’t,” said Buildafire. “That’s why you’re here.”
Warwick looked confused. “But I thought we could be together?”
Buildafire sighed. “Yes, but—”
“What? You don’t want me to be with you because I’m a dragon?”
Buildafire shook his head. “No! Of course not! That’s not what this is about at all! It’s just… it’s hard to explain…”
He tried anyway. He explained how dragons were supposed to be scary and mean and nasty and violent and stuff, and then there was the whole thing with the magic stones, which made them immortal and powerful, but also kind of evil, so people hated them and wanted to kill them, and Buildafire didn’t really understand why they did that. And then there was the whole thing about how racist dragons are, and the way they think everyone else should be like them or something, which Buildafire didn’t understand either, but apparently it was important.
And finally, he got around to explaining about the fire part, which seemed to make sense to Warwick at first, but then it started to get weird again.
“Wait, so you can’t actually breathe fire?”
Buildafire nodded. “Well, technically yes, but it’s not safe, so no one does it.”
“But why not?”
Buildafire shrugged. “Because if you breathe fire in public, everyone will think you’re a bad guy and try to kill you.”
“Oh.”
Buildafire had expected Warwick to be angry about that, but instead he just sort of sat there, frowning, looking thoughtful.
"Did you see my latest piece in the Telegraph?" asked Warwick. “The one where I called for an end to the discrimination against non-humans? Or maybe the one where I said that it’s time we stopped thinking of ourselves as different and start thinking of ourselves as equal?”
"No" replied Buildafire. "That definitely wasn’t the one I read."
“I’m sure you must have seen it,” said Warwick. “It’s everywhere.”
“Maybe on the internet,” said Buildafire.
“There’s a lot of stuff out there,” said Warwick. “A lot of people say a lot of things. I’m sure you’ve seen a lot of it too.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“You know, I’d never heard of this ‘discrimination’ thing before,” said Warwick. “Never even knew it existed until I met you. And now I’m all fired up about it, and I want to change the world, and I want to make people understand that I’m not a monster, and that dragons aren’t monsters either, and that we can all get along and be friends.”
“Wow,” said Buildafire. “That sounds amazing. Really cool.”
“Thanks,” said Warwick. “So do you want to come back to mine and watch some videos and stuff?”
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Dorries wept. “Don’t take my Boris” she screamed. He was all she had left in the world and now he would be gone for ever. She couldnt bear to lose him. But what could she do? There were no other humans on the planet, just a few apes.
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The perfect short story does exist.
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