Bottle Rocket Butt Plug

Hey kids, it’s the fucking new year! We’re in lockdown in the American Consulate in the UK. Long story, but Bisket was sliding uglies with a British politician who got us tickets to see the New Year to-do in London. As luck would have it, our walking fishsticks ended up in a lounge pounding some espresso martinis: pinkies and all.

Bisket’s snog machine, Eddie Balls, said he could get us into Big Ben during the fireworks if she pulled his pork before the witching hour. So Bob’s your uncle and Fanny’s your aunt if they didn’t find themselves perched atop Big Ben before midnight.

Bisket handed Madge a lighter and a bottle rocket from her purse. As Madge looked confused, Eddy stared in horror; Bisket stripped down to socks and a Union Jack bra. She quickly laid on her back and curled her arsehole to the sky. She grabbed the lighter and rocket from Madge’s trembling hand and slipped it in her bum. As the countdown began, 10, 9, 8… Bisket lit the rocket as the roof exploded with fireworks, ringing in the New Year.

Knowing how this would look in the tabloids in the morning, Eddy called security and had the gals escorted from the landmark. But Madge wasn’t about to let Bisket have all the fun. So before the hired guards left them on the street, Madge was pointed toward the nearest pub. Bisket noticed a Fox News van parked across the road as they walked into St. Stephen’s Tavern. As Bisket freshened up in the powder room, Madge ordered drinks and noticed a familiar face at the bar.

Tune in next month when we learn the seedy history
Bisket has with one of America’s smallest dicked journalists.

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