Whipped Corpse and the Congo

Fred says: Hullo
Imogen says: Greetings, Whippish one.
Fred says: I am Whippish, what is it to you?
Imogen says: As a meringue inspector extraordinaire, it is everything.
Imogen says: You might claim to be Whippish, and I and many others may call you such,
Imogen says: but are you truly Whipped?
Fred says: As a meringue I view you with some disdain
Imogen says: Disdainful meringues are something which I am sure I heartily detest.
Imogen says: Particularly those lacking an oozy lemon filling and light pastry casing.
Imogen says: You sir!
Imogen says: Where is your casing, may I ask?
Fred says: Look... my casing, well that's interesting because...
Fred says: *whips you*
Imogen says: Aha! Illegal Whipping without a licence, is it?
Imogen says: *handcuffs you to a radiator*
Fred says: Look, I left my license in my casing...
Imogen says: And where is that?
Fred says: Hurrrm, it's at the bakers....
Imogen says: And your creamy soft oozing lemony centre, how about that?
Fred says: Erm....
Fred says: Look, I don't know what happened to Lemon
Imogen says: So you claim.
Fred says: All I know is one day a spoon went right through me and Lemon was gone.
Fred says: It's the truth dammit!
Imogen says: *Paces the room agitatedly*
Imogen says: Then how do you explain this?
Fred says: I told you
Fred says: Spoon goes in
Fred says: Lemon goes out
Imogen says: *Holds up picture of you disgustingly licking and devouring your own creamy centre*
Fred says: That could be any Whipped creamy top.
Imogen says: I think you'll find this explains your recent spout of blindness
Imogen says: Or not, because you are blind
Fred says: I shan't say another word until I see my baker.
Imogen says: All in all I've been rather thoughtless about this.
Fred says: Not only am I not blind
Fred says: I'm barely sentient!
Imogen says: Your baker is already facing criminal charges in another court of law.
Fred says: Then I want another baker.
Imogen says: *holds up photograph of you joining Mensa*
Imogen says: Fair enough.
Imogen says: You can have Jacob
Fred says: *Sigh*
Fred says: I'm a smart meringue.
Imogen says: Is there something wrong with Jacob?
Imogen says: He's a fine boy.
Fred says: His muffins are doughy and his doughnuts muffiny.
Fred says: He'll mistake me for a trifle!
Fred says: No inspector, this simply won't do.
Imogen says: All this is somewhat incongruous considering Jacob's indefatigable aptitude for the practice of Lemon Meringue Law.
Imogen says: And it's Inspector Incredible to you, oh Empty One.
Fred says: I needn't remind you that I am NOT a lemon meringue, not anymore
Fred says: I am above or at least excused from these laws by that simple default
Fred says: In fact I've been interviewing some cherries
Imogen says: It is not what you ARE that concerns me.
Imogen says: It's the fact that you are chained to a radiator and therefore entirely under my power!
Fred says: *Sigh*
Imogen says: *faps*
Fred says: *sighs*
Fred says: Need I remind you of my consistency?
Fred says: *dribbles away*
Imogen says: Drat and double drat!
Imogen says: *summons flying monkeys*
Fred says: *melts into a drain*
Fred says: Imogen cat, do tell, how is life?
Imogen says: All is well, as long as I disconnect both my brain and my hormones.
Imogen says: My hormonal brain, as it were.
Fred says: Then all is a contusion!
Imogen says: Indeed! To the keep! *runs away*
Fred says: But what is wrong with your hormones in relation to your brain?
Fred says: *sits in the keep*
Fred says: So, Ronnie, I saw your wife last night *nudges you*
Imogen says: Ah well due to lack of sun I become sad, or S.A.D, which then leads my brain to go all crazy schizo and imagine that all the world is my enemy, even the small percentage of it made up of cupcakes.
Imogen says: Whassat 'bout my wife?
Imogen says: *looms over you*
Fred says: I SAW 'er last night, Ron.
Imogen says: Oo-er. She's been dead these past forty years, Ted.
Fred says: Looming isn't legal, not since the king *points at a portrait of your hormonal brain* the king says looming is for his guards only.
Imogen says: You do realise that since my hormonal brain is apparently king, we are living in a world WITHOUT CUPCAKES.
Fred says: I can live with that, Ron....
Imogen says: Of course YOU can. You sexually service the dead.
Fred says: Look, your wife's only been dead forty years, that's alive compared with some of 'em
Imogen says: Ted, just because you can jiggle her about without any limbs dropping off does not make her "alive" in any sense of the word.
Fred says: But in some sense... you still mourn her for instance
Fred says: 'er mem'ry is alive in you
Imogen says: That doesn't give you the right to keep your love mayonnaise alive within HER though, does it?
Fred says: *coughs*
Imogen says: (was that a little too far?)
Imogen says: (I can never tell)
Fred says: (For us, no)
Fred says: My love mayonnaise is about all that's preserving her at the moment.
Imogen says: You should really cut down on the high vinegar content of your food then, Ted.
Fred says: *Swigs back some vinegar cider*
Fred says: You should cut back on the crap, Ron, your bowels aint what they were back in 76
Imogen says: *That's not vinegar cider, that's piss in a bottle*
Imogen says: *not that it should make much of a difference, in my opinion*
Fred says: *coughs*
Fred says: Ron, I'm just going to get more cider.
Imogen says: I wouldn't if I were you.
Imogen says: You honestly don't want to know what I put in the other cider bottles.
Imogen says: I'm an angry man, Ted.
Imogen says: And as you mentioned, my bowels ain't what they used to be.
Fred says: Ron....*put hand on your metal armor thigh*
Fred says: Sometimes I wish you'd let some of that anger loose on me.
Imogen says: I might be cold, Ted.
Imogen says: But it's the metal
Imogen says: I'm not dead yet.
Fred says: *Sigh* but at 68, Ron, you aint got long left.
Fred says: And I'll be there
Fred says: Burying you next to your wife
Fred says: Burying into you next to your wife..
Imogen says: Ted, do you know much about cats?
Fred says: No, Ron.
Imogen says: Well, it just so turns out that I happen to be one.
Imogen says: *rapes you with my mighty barbed penis*
Imogen says: Wasn't that fun?
Fred says: Praise to the hormonal brain....*dies*....
Imogen says: *pisses on corpse*
Imogen says: *catches AIDS*
Imogen says: *dies*
Fred says: So, we were killed by the whim of the hormonal brain
Imogen says: Indeed.
Imogen says: Thus be the cruel and indifferent world we live in.
Imogen says: Praise be to the brain.
Fred says: *nods*
Fred says: So brain, where to now?
Imogen says: The Congo
Fred says: *gets out a machette(sp) and some cigars*
Imogen says: Where, even now, flesh eating gorillas improbably guarding Soloman's diamond mine await us.
Fred says: Thiise mishion is daingeroos, Jaine!
Imogen says: Faddleposh!
Imogen says: Now mount this giant spiny elephant so that we might climb that suspiciously smoking thick-jungle covered mountain!
Imogen says: *mounts her remarkably less spiny elephant with ease*
Fred says: But Jaine, that mountain is mount Atumbu, it is held by rebel militia and some say their iies a massiieve ape der!
Imogen says: Not to fear Manunday! I have packed you this small and unbelievably blunt knife with which to defend yourself!
Fred says: But Jaine, dey have AK47s and RPG launchers, not to mention T49 armored tanks!
Imogen says: Look Mr Ungrateful, you shall have your small greasy blunt broken knife and be happy with it!
Imogen says: *climbs inside tank*
Fred says: Lemme in dat tank Jaine!
Imogen says: Uhhh... Nah
Fred says: Jaine, you are a bihatch, I am going ro illegally traffic arms and diamunds like I should've have from da start
Imogen says: You can try, Manunday, but you shall never succeed against the improbably flesh eating apes of the congo!
Fred says: *Sigh*
Fred says: Jaine your hormonal mind suffocates me
Fred says: This jungle is so close
Fred says: And your tank is unseemly in dese surroundings
Imogen says: *Squirts hormones in your eyes*
Imogen says: Don't criticise me!
Fred says: AHHH!
Imogen says: Take this: oestrogen!
Fred says: *Dies from AIDs*
Fred says: There, you AIDs ridden fool.
Imogen says: SHIT
Imogen says: Now there is no bait to distract the flesh eating apes from my kleptomaniac intentions regarding the mines they are sworn to protect!
Imogen says: *is eaten by apes and dies*