#bowiecest

some bowiecest I drew on my phone @bowie-and-bond-007-fan @crowreys-wormstache

more PUKE

@bowie-and-bond-007-fan i swear to god this is your fault

The blood-stained television set stared at Dave as he watched Pierrot double up on the ground with pain and fear. The Duke lay on the sofa in shock, nervously eyeing the television as though something could jump out of the set and claw him to death. Dave stood, thinking of what to do. He had been in many situations, but none quite like a demonic television. Pierrot threw up on the carpet, adding to the deep red stains on it. His eyes swarmed with tears and his face was covered in stomach fluids. At this, the Duke averted his eyes away from the static screen and focused on Pierrot. He slowly pulled himself up from the sofa and dropped to the floor, beginning to crawl towards the crouching figure still throwing up. Warm arms wrapped around Pierrot, calming him down. Sniffing, Pierrot raised his arms weakly to hug the Duke back. It looked almost like a scene of comfort from a horror movie, with some kind of cinematic nostalgia. Yet Dave was missing it all, instead picking up a glass vase filled with dirty plant water and throwing it on the carpet. Pierrot and Duke ignored the resulting crashing sound, bringing each other’s faces in for a mutual kiss. The hissing television set watched on as lips met and passionate pecks entertained the screen. Dave yelled. Crackling sparks leapt from the box. Circuits shorted and smoke puffed out of the technicolor screen as the rainbow way died. And Pierrot and Duke still kissed, on a display of flying lights. The Duke didn't care that Pierrot smelt like sweat and puke, or that his face was covered in half-digested food scraps. Pierrot was his, and he was Pierrot’s. Dave had collapsed over the marble kitchen bench in an attempt to find a spot to rest. His body was rolled over the entire bench, having knocked over any inconvenient objects (dinnerware) that was in the way. The result was, of course, a floor peppered with glass, china and pools of condiments and fruit. Pierrot and Duke had drifted away to the dream lands themselves, their bodies on top of each other in an odd fashion. Duke didn't seem to mind that his face lay on top of Pierrot’s now hours old spew. The first to stir was Dave, who didn't take long to understand his situation. He rolled off the bench and onto the messy carpet, the perfect wake up call for a stressed hit man. He looked up and was relieved to see that the television he had been worrying over so much was dead. He knew, however, that this meant the girl inside it must be gone too. He didn't care. Dave stumbled to his feet and, trying to balance himself, staggered over to the pile of half naked babes in front of the TVC 15. Dave suddenly had a mind to join their half conscious hugging but then took a whiff of the stink and decided it best not to. They needed to clean themselves big time if they wanted to escape this hell hole of an apartment.