The birds were singing, the speakers blasting, and Bradley was simply in a delightful mood. As he is a caring and loving god, he wonders about his fanbase and what their demands were today. "Oh man," he thought to himself, "I can't wait to see what my wonderful fanbase wants me to do today!" He opens Twitter, and to his surprise, no emo music seemed to come up. No P!ATD no TOP no FOB no Danger Days Pt 2 WHEN??? Just many empty comment slots. This concerned Bradley and he went to consult his very best friend in the whole wide world, Buffalo Staple. He dm'd Mr. Staple, hoping that his friend would respond. He wrote out "help man, my life is falling apart, dude, none of my wonderful fans are commenting on my stuff. :sad face:" Mr. Staple, in his awe inspiring glory responded with, "dude, you haven't contacted me in three months, it seems you've completely forgotten me man, but now, when your clout is in danger you contact me???!!" Brad was taken a little aback by this response. As he is a kind and loving man, he responded with, "dude, you are legit scum. fuck you."
Satisfied, Bradley continued his day, reacting to emo, reviewing the death of the grips, when suddenly, he heard a knock at his door. "Who could that be?" Brad thought. He slowly walked to the door, and he opened it, only for it to reveal Buffalo Staple standing there. He looked distraught, and stared at Bradley right into the eyes. "Brad" he said, standing a mere inch from his face. "Please fuck me in the ass."
Suddenly, Buffalo grabbed Bradley and they began to kiss. Brad was, at first, shocked by this encounter, but soon became consumed by the skill of Buffalo's lovemaking abilities. Buffalo softly grabbed Brad's ass, and they landed onto the bed. Buffalo whispered, his breath hot with anticipation, " I wanna see that big baller dick."
Brad stood up and revealed his massive, uncut, 10-inch cock. Buffalo was in awe of this... god. He grabbed it and slowly began to suck it. Brad was near ready to bust at that point, but he held it in. Finally, Buffalo began to stroke and beg for a facial. And brad, being the patrician god he is, kindly gave it to 'em. However, Bradley was not satisfied with just a blowjob. He flipped Buffalo onto the bed and on his back. His cock, throbbing as hard as eighteen naked cowboys in the showers at Ram Ranch, was hungry. He rammed it into Buffalo's ass. He began to stroke unmercifully, expanding Buffalo's hungry, untamed hole. Buffalo began to speak in between each stroke. "YOU-HAVE-SO-MUCH-CLOUT-IN-MY-ASS."
Buffalo was enjoying it immensely. So much so that he had an orgasm early. Bradley was not having this. He used his god like powers to keep the orgasm in until Brad would cum. It wasn't long before Brad wasn't able to hold it in.
The distortion and bass began to rise, and the two editing styles clashed together into a beautiful cacophony of ear shattering cancer. And it rose to a peak as both Brad and Buffalo began to orgasm. Brad yelled his soy boy yell, and Buffalo moaned with satisfaction. Brad, his ego and his dick satisfied, laid next to Buffalo, stroking his hair and staring into his eyes. Buffalo began to speak. His voice, as soft as a sheeps wool, whispered to Bradley "I enjoyed you fucking me."
Brad responded, "I did too."
"I'd give it an 8-."
Buffalo grimaced a bit and said "Eh, I think it was more of a strong 7."
Brad stood up, in shock of what he heard. "Dude, thats some nasty shit you're saying to me. Fuck you. You're literal scum, I hate you. You have a mental illness, not because of depression, but because of retardation."
Brad stormed out. Buffalo laid on the bed, confused as to what has happened.
And so, the day continued like normal, Brad dealing with his fans and complaining on Twitter, and Buffalo, continuing to do what cloutless people do, as Brad said on Twitter. And thus ended the saga of Brad and Buffalo, two lovers destined to be together, torn apart by the gods themselves. I thank you for reading, and I bid you a good days.
