"Belching Birds"

"Imagine being socially aloof, partially due to an inattentive mother; forced to turn tricks because pop, with his running ass, never ran the books, he just took; until the day those guys showed up during that episode of 'The Honeymooners', where Ralph..."

Clutching her pearls with her long, subtly thick digits, Zabby stopped Corey in his tracks, three-quarters aroused, an eighth, frightened, and the last eighth, confused as to why she was aroused, yet frightened. "Maybe you should turn the television off before you pass out next time, silly."

"If only my mind were remotely controlled by a remote control; I'd have something that, even remotely, could be mistaken for control; but I can't, you understand? And, why you cut me off for? It's not very polite to cut a man off when he's opening his heart to you." Corey flashed a simple side of a smile, and reached into the box of poultry, blindly. He'd always marveled at how he could bite into a fresh batch of Louisiana's Kitchen, and be transported to a place he'd never been. The crispy skin; tender, juicy breasts, always followed by a behemoth's paw-full of Cajun fries, presented Corey with all of the simple joy that escaped him his whole life. His side smile always turned triumphantly full after an eight piece, mixed, spicy of course, with his fries. Double on the fries, because who can eat eight pieces of chicken and not have enough fries to shovel…