Timmy knew all about sex and junk. Well, he thought he did. How complicated could it be if his parents were able to figure out how to do it? And considering how often he found his mom drunk in the kitchen lately, they must be doing it a lot.
The first time a boy asks his dad to explain sex is one of the most intensely intimate and private communications possible between a parent & child. It’s a milestone in male bonding, second only to the first time a boy and his dad cry together because the ‘designated hitter rule’ has ruined (saved) baseball. Oh sure, mothers and daughters could claim that a girl’s first period was a more intensely private, emotional and traumatic experience… but please! We’re talking about baseball… or are we? Anyway, Timmy was pretty sure he had the all the info needed on this sex thing. If (a very big “if”) Timmy was going to become sexually involved with Vicky & Ronnie, then he’d need a few pointers. And once he worked that out he was sure he’d be ready for the real, really real, realest love of his life, Trixie Tang. Let’s respect Mr. Turner and Timmy’s privacy.
* * Press mute on the volume control * *
The three Turners are having dinner. Pulsating grey lumps sit on their plates, extruding whitened bones along with the occasional spastic claw and talon. It’s Monday, meatloaf night. Timmy’s Dad & Mom speak to each other, gesticulate wildly and occasionally attempt to spear bits of meatloaf trying to escape. They don’t appear to notice Timmy who has been trying to get their attention for several minutes. During a momentary lull Timmy blushes and says something to his parents. There is a moment of stunned surprise… Then Timmy’s father begins to jump around the kitchen, strutting and preening like the proudest peacock in the … nest(?) hive(?) peacockery! He grabs Timmy and begins to rub his son’s delicate face across his own stubbly one, shredding several layers of the boy’s skin in the process. It’s been at least two hours since Mr. Turner has shaved. Tears well up in Timmy’s Mom’s eyes. They do not appear to be tears of joy. They look more like ‘tears of unhappiness for some other woman that will have to put up with the sexual antics of a Turner male’… or maybe she was constipated. Without sound it’s hard to tell. Anyway, she flees the kitchen. Well, she starts to flee, then returns with a hand truck and loads up several cases of beer. You can’t exactly flee while lugging a hand truck loaded with beer. But it was a good try… So Timmy’s Mom ‘lugged’ from the kitchen Timmy’s Dad runs through the house dragging a frightened Timmy behind him. He stops in several places to retrieve objects put aside for this very special day. To Timmy this was all a blur. They were back in the kitchen. In a single motion, Timmy’s dad grabbed at his collar and ripped his clothing off, revealing his hairy arms and legs, black panties, fishnet stockings and (inexplicably) black high heeled bedroom slippers. A black bra covered his fish belly pale white chest. He grabbed his son, who now looked like he had been tasered repeatedly, threw him up in the air and plucked his son’s clothing off, as well. Timmy is stripped naked before he hits the ground. When Timmy’s Dad saw that his son wasn’t wearing any underpants (he left them in the locker room when Vicky rescued him... remember?), Timmy’s Dad’s face lit up. And then Mr. Turner went to the refrigerator…
* * Press the Pause button on the remote control * *
Cosmo & Wanda had heard the squeak of the overloaded hand truck.“ “Gee,” Cosmo said. “They must have started sex early tonight.” “Quiet, idiot. No –S-E-X-Y talk in front of the –b-a-b-y-.” Poof was floazing (floating+dozing) near his mama’s head. While Cosmo attempted to translate what sounded to him like random letters into words, Poof yawned, opened his eyes and said “Sexy baby.” Cosmo said, “It’s dinner time, they must be fucking the meatloaf on the kitchen table.” Wanda shot Cosmo a look which left scorch marks in mid-air. She pushed Poof into his arms and invisibly teleported to the kitchen. Wanda didn’t have much patience when it came to human beings and their sexual behavior… or equipment. This was a line that no fairy or magical being was supposed to cross over… ever. It wasn’t just in the Da’ Rulz!, it was the whole point of the rules that governed relations between magical and non-magical beings. Sex was not to be discussed or practiced. Human and fairy sexual organs were purposely incompatible. It could also be grounds for immediate dismissal of Fairy God Parental-hood rights and no Fairy Council, last minute heroics, tricks or muffins could change anything. Most of the last minute reprieves where Timmy lost and regained his God Parents were standard fairy scenarios. They were fantasies played out by the fairies to give their God Kids more heroic & exciting lives. There was no cruelty intended in this Fairy deception. In fact, Timmy truly became a hero many times over because not all of the scrapes he and his God Family endured were fake. Some were as real and dangerous as they seemed… But real or not, human sex was something that all magical creatures had to avoid. Sooner or later the human child would cross the line and try to have sex with his Fairy Family or use their magical powers for sexual gratification. Then the Fairy-Human relationship would come to an end. It was rumored that some Fairies initiated sexual contact. This was the darkest crime imaginable. Wanda loved her Timmy too much to even consider eliminating his sexual development. Well… she may have considered it, but rejected it… mostly. Many Fairies secretly replaced their human godchild’s gonads with Floger’s coffee crystals or did something else to keep them pure & innocent forever. She would never do that (would she?), but she had no compunction against distracting him for as long as she could.
** Let’s rewind a bit and press Play **
Yadda-yadda-yadda… Timmy yadda-yadda… No underpants… and so on.
* * Press the Mute button again * *
And then Mr. Turner went to the refrigerator and removed a number of cans and jars and tossed them to his naked son. Mr. Turner grabs one of the cans and shoves it in Timmy’s face. The label reads “Dimmidale’s Fancy Fucked Pineapple Rings in Heavy Syrup”. Frantically Mr. Turner grabs one of the crudely built devices on the kitchen countertop. It superficially resembles a can opener. It seems to combine the most dangerous parts of a gas driven lawn mower, a chain saw, two previously working can-openers and a sledge hammer. It was held together with bent, rusty nails and looked like something the ICBL (International Campaign to Ban Landmines) had nightmares about. Timmy’s dad finds a single intact surviving pineapple ring and delicately places it on a plate. His then picks up a jar of pickles and inserts it into another one of his kitchen devices. The lid unscrews itself perfectly… then a claw hammer shoots out of the side and smashes the jar. He selects the largest, greenish most uncircumcised pickle he can find and… and… stops. Timmy’s Dad must be a “connoisseur” (I think that means some kind of thing from a sewer). He sniffs the pickle. Rubs and rolls it between two fingers, judging it’s heft, weight and balance. He rubs the tip against his face then slowly, intimately across Timmy’s stunned lips, then tries to push the extra-large vegetable (fruit? condiment??) into his son’s mouth. Timmy resists frenching the cuc. For a change his buck teeth have come in handy, acting as the ultimate facial draw-bridge. From the look in Mr. Turner’s eyes you know that he’s thinking that “No-means-yes” and that “Timmy must like it rough”. Timmy’s dad lies on the table, the sliced pineapple ring now covers his panty-clad daddy bits. 6 kosher dills have been wrapped together to form triple wide green daddy dick. To increase the realism of the sexual demonstration, he covers the pineapple pussy with chopped coconut, sand, broken glass, rusty barbed-wire and vinegar. “Just like your mom’s,” you lip read. He looks lovingly at his son, grabs the back of the boy’s head and smashes him face first repeatedly into the sweetly foul pickled-pineapple pussy.
* * Let’s “accidently” press the Mute button again… I want to hear this * *
“… and that’s what sex with your mother is like!” Mr. Turner then cries like a little girl for a minute and then turns over on the table, puts his thumb in his mouth and falls asleep. Later Timmy’s Mom finds her son huddling in a dark corner, shivering and talking to himself. “That’s what it’s like? That? That's sex?!?. That!!!!" Timmy hears the snap of Mom-sharp teeth on the kosher-pickle-phallus that his dad had used to simulate sex. He is afraid to look, but the awful sound of crunch-crunch-snap-crunch will haunt his dreams for years... Before she leaves the kitchen, Mom finds the smallest, weakest, most pathetic neglected little gherkin that had somehow escaped the carnage. Pushing it through the devistated pineapple pussy ring, she says “Now that’s what sex with your dad is really like!” Wanda was relieved. She figured that the graphic demonstration would keep her Timmy pure and afraid to have sex for a long time. She rejcts any thought of magically castrating him. Timmy's human parents could do a far better job of that than she could, "And they don't even have to use magic." And she was right... it was a long time before Timmy thought about having sex again... with anyone. Nearly ten whole minutes...
