what's your poison?

Do you ever look at your pet and go holy shit that is a little beast moving and doing things of its own volition. In my home

inagine working a shitty ass minimum wage at some fuckin gas station on the side of the road in the middle of buttcrack missouri where you havent had a single customer in like a week and a half and suddenly you hear the dudty ass bell chime like a sweet song from god telling you that the door opened so you look up from your seventeen magazine from 2012 you found on the side of the road that youre only reading because its the only thing distracting yourself from your own mortality so you look up from the magazine and standing in front of the checkout desk its the fucking pope. wearing the full fucking pope getup in all his glory a foot in front of you watching you read a mud stained magazine where bella thorne talks about her favorite prints to mix and match and the pope is still a paying customer so you just smile and say hi how can i help you? :) and he just fucjing stares at you with his cold dead pope eyes and slowly raises his sceptre into the air and then bangs it on the ground so hard that the tile broke and thats either coming out of your paycheck or just never getting fixed at all and he hasnt broken eye contact with you since you first saw him and he smells like the pope probably smells and he tells you he demands your finest dobby pussy indulgence may god bless your soul. what would you do how would you feel if that was something that happened to you