My p**is was rock hard that day.
I initially just wanted to go home and f**k the living soul out of Scout's mother in order to blow some Steam™️, before retiring to my smoking room and smoke 500 cigarettes or more, but that day had worser plans for me.
It was December 4th 1987. The sun had unfortunately risen again in Paris. My cocky wanted boing boing, and I was prowling the streets looking for fellow Scout mothers to take home for the night. I was just about to open one of my thousand champagne bottles when there was a commotion going on in the streets. One of my neighbors was pointing at the sky frantically and screaming "MON DIEU, THERE'S A BAGUETTE IN ZE SKY!!"
Sure enough, there was. There was a flying, 100 metre tall baguette the size of my cock flying towards the Eiffel Towers. My failed abortion of a son, Jeremy Pintle, was piloting the schlonguette, and he was going at 100mph towards it.
Aaaaand there we have it... YIKES...
The plane crashed into one of the towers, sending it up in flames and causing smoke similar to smoking a thousand cigarettes out. Everyone and their partners panicked and started running around in circles. One of them got a guillotine out and executed my rich neighbor.
"PREMIER MINISTRE!!!! THEY HIT ZE LUXEMBOURG!!!!" My BLU Spy neighbor screamed out loud, before hyperventilating and collapsing onto the ground. His Scout mother had to drag him away before he got trampled on by the others from the panic.
"OH MERDE ZHERE'S A SECOND BAGUETTE!!!!" another person screamed. I looked up. Jeremy was piloting the second baguette despite having had died in the first one, and by going 200mph, he managed to crash the baguette into the second Eiffel Tower. This time, both towers collapsed, sending rubble all over the place and crushing at least 10k Spies and Scout mothers.
Jeremy died in 9/11. I'm gonna be honest, I'm glad he finally got aborted after 41 years. Now the damn government can stop sending me child support bills
