unscratchedfoot
War is a good thing.
A Tale of Peter & Michael
Sometime very long ago, 2 young gentlemen named Michael and Peter got tired of rum, sodomy and the lash and set upon their own adventure one night when everyone was getting hammered in the hooch. They stole a couple of lifeboats, salted fish and dried fruit along with some stale water and a few comrades to boot.
And off they went.
They should have been lost in the stormy uncharted waters, or been devoured by the terrible monsters said to inhabit the edges of the world, but alas! no harm came to them other than scury, dysentary, dehydration and malnutrition. For upon the New World they opportuned and a feast of relatively unclaimed real estate ripe to appreciate over the coming millenniums.
The weather was pleasantly warm, perhaps even a tad hot to be sure. So they shed their soiled sailor uniforms and ran about the new lands buffed and glorious.
Over time these lads came upon small bands of surprised natives who were going about their daily tasks of collecting wild berries and herbs in the wild. Michael decreed that only the young, beautiful women should be taken as slaves and the males given 50 lashes each and sent off their way to speak of the power of the white man. The old women, few that there were given the short life spans of the time, were simply sent off their way after their basketfulls of berries were devoured by Michael and Peter in a spasm of gluttony and dark juice.
A day or two of diarrhea later and all was back to normal. The new women were prompty 'tested out' by the high living lads, and of course, the best of them were reserved for Michael and Peter who were infamous in their fornication. "The hog of the land is ours to be had I say!" was their decree.
Time went on and an establishment of sorts was built by native slave labor. Designed by Michael, as Peter was always too busy with his humping, the new town was developing into a large shanty town. The shacks were all colored in pastel shades of pink, aqua blue, green and violet using inks the native women fashioned from berries. This town deserved a name so a discussion was held.
"So what are we gonna call this slum?" asked Peter.
"I don't know. Michael's Whore House sounds good." replied Michael.
"Well I say 'Peter's Sty' to be appropriate."
Michael wasn't too chuffed with that one. "Ah no bub, you are not in charge. This is a partnership. Alrighty then, since we can't agree, then let's call it Bob's Paradise. There's no Bob here so there's no argument either."
"Done."
Native foraging parties coming back without their young women and the men properly lashed could, of course, not go without notice by the chiefs and elders of the Indian bands. An expedition was prepared. Montezuma would meet these scoundrels who were abusing the fruits of the land.
And meet him he did. Montezuma being carried up high on a cart by a group of muscled men while Jaguars ran shotgun caused quite a stir in Bob's Paradise.
Michael came bunnyhopping out of a shack still trying to pull up his pants while Peter came moseying out of another clad only in native style flapshorts.
Montezuma cringed at the sight of the 2 hairy chested, skinny whitemen who still had fresh spuzzle on their pale skin drying quickly in the hot noon sun. His Jaguar bodyguards set up a defensive perimeter around the Aztec leader. "So you are the heathens stealing out women, lashing our men into writhing wretches of helpless manhood, and eating our berries. By the way I'm Montezuma."
"Michael, bring my my gun." ordered Peter while looking around at Montezuma and his attendants.
"Get your own." Michael made a point of cocking his rifle as loudly as he could.
"Mohikaka, get me my gun." ordered Peter. One of the native women, still giddy from being freshly humped, ran into the shack and came out with Peter's firearm. It looked more like a small cannon.
BOOM!!! And off came Montezuma's elaborate headress.
The sound of the gun was many times louder than anything the natives had ever heard, and at the shock of it, all Jaguars and servants dropped to their knees and Montezuma went for a spill.
Montezuma got to his knees looking all dazed with his hands in prayer position. He whimpered, "White man looks like foul beast but commands the very thunder itself. I bow before your power."
"Get off your knees girly man and greet me with some respect." ordered Peter while ramming fresh power into his rifle with a big Q-tip.
Montezuma stayed on his knees and and with his arms raised straight up he repeatedly bowed at speed.
"I'll give you one more chance to show me some proper respect, savage." the grimness in Peter's voice grew deeper and he shoved a big steel ball into the barrel.
Montezuma shrieked in despair, "I so sorry oh great hairy white man! I know no other way to honor thee!"
"Then I'll teach you our way. Us Europeans treat each other like real men while you do that girly act." Peter turned around, bent over and lifted up his bumflap to rest on his lower back. He then put his hands on his buttcheeks and pulled them wide apart. "Lick this savage. Only then can you earn my respect."
Montezuma started to shake uncontrollably and looked about to vomit. He was beyond words.
Peter maintained the pose and ordered, "Michael, show him how it's done."
Michael went around behind Peter and gave Peter a swift kick in the behind.
Peter stumbled forward a few steps and yelled, "You idiot! Lick my ass!!"
Michael cringed and shook his head so Peter snarled at him in a small voice the Aztecs could not hear, "Do it idiot and we'll get all these morons to lick our asses everytime. We can own them."
"Oh all right." sighed Michael and he did the deed. He then ran off behind a shack in quite a hurry.
"Your turn Montezuma." ordered Peter.
Montezuma slowly and in a controlled convulsion went through with the act, all the while being serenaded by the sounds of violent heaving coming from the shack Michael had run behind.
With these pleasantries completed and Montezuma's partially digested lunch deposited in some bushes, the natives made their way back home in a very silent mood. The Jaguars behind Montezuma exchanged looks and shook their heads in despair. It was their first defeat by the whiteman. Little did they know the true reason behind Peter's grotesque greeting.
A few days later, Peter visited Michael in the sick bay. Peter scolded him, "Oh come on! You're just faking it now."
"You prick!!" was all Michael had to say.
"You don't get it do you?" said Peter. "We only have to wait and the natives will be destroyed."
"Huh?!"
"Think about it. The fantastic amounts of killer bacteria that Montezuma freak ingested will manifest into terrible contagious deseases. We will wipe them out without a fight."
For a moment, Michael's face shone with understanding and then changed to terror. "What about me? Will I die too?"
"Would I kill you brother? You've got the same bacteria in you that I do. The natives, however, are not used to our European bacteria strains and have not developed immunity to them yet. For all we know, there could have been molecules of black plague on my arse that day. After all I only used a couple of leaves to wipe with that morning."
Michael started heaving at the memory so Peter lighted up the mood with a suggestion. "Hey why don't we head up north and see what's there?"
Michael agreed and perked up in no time at all.
Months later while hiking through the endless trees and brush of the north, Michael stopped and complained, "You know it seems the further we go north, the colder and less berries there are. There's nothing but deer and trees up here. I say we head back to Bob's Paradise and go back to humping."
"Alrighty, you do that. I like this place and I'm gonna set up a town here." declared Peter.
"Ok bye."
A year later, Michael hiked back to the forests of the north to check on Peter to make sure all was okay. But lo! what a sight he beheld upon reaching the town Peter had built. For in a corral on the outskirts was Peter in deep passion humping away with a deer.
Michael approached Peter and said, "I see you are enjoying the abundance of the land."
Startled, Peter withdrew from the deer in a panic. The deer looked around puzzled and knudged Peter with her behind for the action to continue.
"Oh &@#%! Let me know next time when you are coming to visit." said Peter.
"Sorry to interrupt your affair." apologized Michael. After having tea and biscuits, they agreed that Peter would colonize the north while Michael would work on the south.
And this is how North and South America were populated. And sad but true was that Peter's way of greeting tribes destroyed the powerful and exotic native cultures one by one.
The End
