Fr. Frank slipped off his cardboard roman collar and took out a pen, scribbled a message on it, then reached in between the parade goers to slap it hi...h on the man’s back, just below his neck. The terrorist couldn’t feel it through the fat suit. The priest wasn’t even ten feet away when he heard the sounds of a man being beaten into a new incarnation. Maybe I should have found something more tame to write on his back than ‘I hate the IRA.’ The next one, a block over, was taken down with medical. I began to unbuckle my belt and unzip my jeans. Emma looked up at my crotch, which was level with her face, surprised."What are you doing? Is that going to help me get out? Why are you taking your boxers off too?" I ignored all these questions and proceeded to pull out my rock hard dick. My dick isn't enormous but at about eight and a half inches, it is pretty sizable and I'm proud of it. At the site of this, Emma's face became confused."How the fuck is your dick going to help? Seriously go get. More

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