Alas, Sweet Olaf

Imogen: I would like to marriage you.
Imogen: I'm so lonely.
Imogen: *Has orgy*
Imogen: :P
Beatrix: Marriage me?
Imogen: Indeed, my sweet and delectable dirgybird
Imogen: *caresses cheek*
Beatrix: D:
Beatrix: What's got into you woman??
Beatrix: *slaps you*
Imogen: I'm sorry, WOMAN?!
Imogen: What on earth has got into YOU?!
Beatrix: I'm a male chauvinist now :(
Imogen: I've only been inserting my oversized member into you for the last TWELVE years.
Imogen: You of all people should know I'm all man.
Beatrix: D:
Beatrix: That was your MEMBER?
Beatrix: I thought it was your leg
Imogen: *inserts oversized member*
Imogen: Well sometimes it was.
Imogen: But MOSTLY it was my member.
Beatrix: It felt like a leg...
Beatrix: *suspicious*
Beatrix: It even sounded like a leg...
Imogen: I have a condition. Imogen: I don't like to talk about it.
Imogen: *withdraws misshapen member with foot-like kink in it, wearing a bizarre kind of thrid trouser leg*
Imogen: *third
Beatrix: D: D: D:
Beatrix: Oh God...
Beatrix: That's so...
Beatrix: Erotic.
Imogen: You know it, baby.
Imogen: I stiched the trouser leg myself :)
Imogen: *stitched
Imogen: It took me three weeks and I ran out of thread and had to use my own hair...
Imogen: All of it.
Beatrix: .....
Beatrix: I don't want to talk to you any more.
Imogen: *plays sad music on a tiny mandolin*
Imogen: Don't say that, my grimsby-snidge
Imogen: Our love is forever. *handcuffs you to bedrail*
Beatrix: Oh shi- Beatrix: Let me go!
Imogen: What's that, my tasty gristle?
Imogen: You want us to be together until the end of time?
Beatrix: LET ME GO!
Beatrix: *pulls at chains*
Beatrix: Aargh!
Imogen: I don't know why you're pulling at those chains, my wickedness.
Imogen: I distinctly remember handcuffing you to our connubial bed.
Beatrix: Because I'm trying to get free :@
Imogen: But... Well carry on then.
Imogen: *chains are the only thing suspending bed from boiling pit of lava*
Beatrix: Oh SHI-
Imogen: *filled with slugs. Dead ones.*
Beatrix: *clings onto bed railings*
Imogen: *Watches detachedly as bed falls from weakened chains into lava*
Imogen: *calls down* Don't worry, my crispy corpse! I'll still love oyu!
Imogen: *you
Beatrix: *is a charred corpse*
Beatrix: Happy now?!
Imogen: Yus ^ ^
Imogen: *faps*
Beatrix: D:
Beatrix: Stop that
Beatrix: I'm still sore there D:
Imogen: Fair enough
Imogen: I'm done now anyway. *Mooches off for tissue*
Beatrix: Oh, what's the point?
Beatrix: Leave it there, it might help heal the wounds
Imogen: I doubt it. But I'm sure you know best. *rubs AIDS infected semen into wounds*
Beatrix: OH SHI-
Beatrix: You could've told me :(
Imogen: Now you have to stay with me forver :)
Imogen: *forever
Imogen: Noone else will want you because you are horribly burnt and have aids and you also smell.
Beatrix: I do?
Beatrix: Why?
Beatrix: *sniffs self*
Beatrix: I think I smell okay...
Imogen: That is probably because your nose is burnt off.
Imogen: You smell like a chorizo.
Beatrix: Mm :) Tasty.
Imogen: Exactly *summons the wolves*
Imogen: Awowowowowowwoooooooooolflikenoises.
Beatrix: Woah....
Beatrix: Wait
Beatrix: We can talk this through...
Imogen: Hey, there's Olaf now!
Beatrix: *bites out chunk of own burnt flesh*
Imogen: I bet my offer of eternal love and sticky companionship is looking pretty appealing right now...
Beatrix: *spits it at Olaf's mouth*
Beatrix: *gives him AIDs*
Beatrix: *Olaf dies*
Imogen: That's terrible!
Imogen: He was Fred's life partner!
Beatrix: *feels guilty*
Beatrix: Uh...
Beatrix: We could stuff him?
Imogen: Why would you do such a thing?!
Beatrix: It's kind of like my dead stuffed husband only a little less weird?
Imogen: I only invited him round for a bit of a stroke and a biscuit!
Imogen: Now look at him!
Imogen: What, do you think Fred won't notice?!
Beatrix: You invited him over to EAT ME ALIVE!
Beatrix: You can't possibly call that 'stroke and a biscuit'
Imogen: THAT'S NOT WHAT "Awowowowowowwoooooooooolflikenoises" MEANS!
Beatrix: *scowls*
Beatrix: I don't believe you.
Imogen: "Awowowowowowwoooooooooolflikenoises" Means "Hey Olaf, my furry amigo, come round for a nice stroke and a biscuit, and meet my crispy corpse wife, she's really nice and I'm sure you'll be friends!"
Imogen: *wolves, attracted to the noise, come close and are stroked, and eat biscuits*
Imogen: *they politely shake your hand*
Beatrix: Thanks, guys...
Imogen: You know, this is a much nicer way of thanking them than the way you THANKED OLAF.
Imogen: ALthough I think I mean "THANKED" notethesarcasticquotationmarks!
Beatrix: Look, I'm sorry about that.
0Beatrix: I thought he wanted to eat me.
Imogen: Then why weren't you at the funeral, Beatrix. Tell me that.
Beatrix: The funeral?
Beatrix: ?!?
Beatrix: Already!?
Beatrix: So fast?
Beatrix: He only died ten minutes ago...
Imogen: Olaf had a very specific will in which it is essential he is buried 2 minutes after his death to prevent him rising from the grave as an enraged and vengeful zombie!
Beatrix: I had no idea...
Imogen: Yes well, thanks to your "We could stuff him" idea we only managed it in 3 minutes
Imogen: *glances nervously at ground*
Beatrix: You mean -
Beatrix: ??!
Imogen: *Olaf arises*
Beatrix: Uh oh....
Beatrix: *grabs chainsaw*
Imogen: *rubs gristle in eyes*