Not soon after I received his message, a yellow Ferrari pulled up to the curb, and the darkly tinted windows rolled down. “Come, you mustn’t be late for your meeting with the liquidian aristocracy,” was mutedly muttered from within the cabin.
“Fool,” I sagely responded,” I AM liquidian aristocracy.”
Defeated, Ares unlocked the passenger-side door, and I entered the vehicle. Immediately, my nose was filled with the scent and sensation of stale couscous, and Ares’ vivid outfit betrayed his east Indian heritage. I smiled, and commented “Looking to impress someone noob?”
Reserved, Ares looked towards the other end of the street, responding “Elly isn’t one to be trifled with Endymion.” With nothing left to be said, Ares pulled out and sped us towards the Liquid Manor. The hour was late, as it had long been established since Nazgul’s coup d'état that the eastern seaboard of North America was to live and bleed on KST rather than EST. The rain hit the windshield as we raced through the empty streets of New York, absently noted by Ares and myself, although it paled in comparison to the events forthcoming.
We soon arrived at the gates of the manor, sealed shut by reinforced steel and concrete. Ares reached into the pocket of his kurta, withdrawing his wallet. Opening it, I caught a glimpse of the contents held within: an ornate golden stamp in the shape of a hammer. He lowered his window, and held out the stamp to a sensor. The gates quickly swung open, and we entered the grounds.
As we drove up the windy road to the foreboading structure at the top of the hill, I noted the flocks of sheep grazing on the grounds. There were a few which were black, although they were mostly white. They congregated around signs labeled “Starcraft 2” and “General,” although the sign labeled “Broodwar” was depressingly devoid of any substantial number of the creatures. Ares abruptly stopped the car, although he was in no way surprised or phased. He reached back into the hold of the ferrari, and looked at me. “U gotta sk8,” he said, handing me a skateboard. I thanked him, and exited the car.
U gotta sk8
Ares turned around while I was forced to skate up to the door of the manor, although the now absence of rain allowed for a much more pleasant ride than I had expected. Ascending the steps to threshold, I saw a large green dinosaur statue to my left. “Hah, even Liquid can’t forget the memory of Dino.” I promptly struck the door, anxious to not keep my lady waiting.
Soon after my knock, the doors swung inward, and Chill stood before me, perplexed “What are you doing here, Endymion. Your post review is tomorrow, the Korean Prime Minister is here for our statements regarding Kespa 2.0’s regulation.” I could hardly understand him; he seemed in odd humor.
Acting surprised, I responded. “My mistake Chill, is there any way that I can wait inside while I call for another chauffeur? The weather looks dreadfully like rain.”
Annoyed, Chill obliged me and led me to the drawing room within the manor. “Make yourself at home, I’ll have a servant bring you some soju.” He then departed from the room.
Waiting for Chill to travel a sufficient distance as to where I wouldn’t be heard, I inspected the contents of the room. It was lavish, a traditional red and brown, reminiscent of the Victorian era. Everything seemed to center upon one jar on the central table, containing one large bumblebee, buzzing quite loudly. I followed Chill’s example while disregarding his directions, leaving the room in search of Elly.
After some close calls of being spotted by both Tyler and Ret, I finally found her room. I knocked softly, and a quiet voice from within beckoned me in. Entering the room, I saw her: the elephant of my dreams. She sat in lavish pink lingerie on a contrasting blue and white bedspread, with the liquidian signet embroidered on it. I walked over to her, and I began stroking her long trunk, which was soft yet firm at the same time. She cooed with delight, wrapping her tail around me. I was distracted by pictures upon the wall, however, which I remember to have been drawn and commissioned by Fake Steve some years back, although they were of notably less size than would normally be optimal for viewing. “The pictures, why are they so small?” I inquired to Elly, fixing my gaze upon her once more”
“XXIO thought that the large size was distracting, so he had us reduce it substantially for a cleaner look.”
“Oh, I’ve had some experience with that,” I responded, half sarcastic half truthful. Resuming my assault on her glorious ESPORTS body my hands found crevices that only the most daring of elephant connoisseurs could hope to conquer, spreading her ladyhood with my adept over 400 apm BW fingers. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door! It was Chill!!! I quickly hid underneath the bed, and Elly threw a bath robe on to conceal her state of stimulation.
I heard Chill’s voice from the hallway, stating “What was that ruckus?”
Elly angrily yelled “CHILL GET OUT,” shutting the door on him. I returned to the mattress, lying flat and firm, ready for my ample lover. She returned, and upon removing her robe she mounted me, providing ecstasy which not even Stephano’s fans know to exist.
We made love for about the amount of time a BW TvT would last, and as I was climaxing I shouted “ESPORTSSSSS!! I’M CUMMING!!”
an artist's (mr wiggles) rendition of the situation