Henry Hoover doesn't give a fuck that you came
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Hello everybody, my name is David. My wife died 6 years ago. Turns out you can hold in a shit for too long. But it was a really smooth journey to my parents' that year, so it was all worth it. I was also ok with her death because I still had my daughter, Janey, to get through the hard times.
"Daddy," said my daughter Janey to me one day after school. "Can you help me with my math homework?"
"No, Janey. I don't want to do that. Do I look like a chump? Why don't you go outside and play in the road for a bit."
"Ok dad."
Several hours later I received a phone call from the police. Apparently Janey had been hit by a bus and died. Apparently buses run all night long and don't give a shit if there's kids playing in the road.
"Thanks officer." I said and hung up the phone.
I sighed. "Just you and me now, Henry." I said to my Henry Hoover; a Hoover that has the face of a man, his nose being the hose and the top vacuum producer looking just like a classy bowler hat.
Henry Hoover wiggled back and forth with delight. Henry Hoover rolled his eyes and winked at me.
"Hey, what was that wink about just now?"
Henry started flailing his hose around the room, smashing the pictures of my now dead wife and child from the mantlepiece. Henry's long extension cord extended towards me, wrapped itself around my legs and pulled down my pants.
Now, I know you're thinking, where is this going? And it's basically going to me and my Hoover having sex. Like, the Hoover was going to totally suck me off. My wife had been dead six years and the prostitutes had quickly worked their way through Janey's college fund. But Henry had always been there for me and had both a hard and soft sucking option.
So there we were just enjoying being two free individuals. And I'm ashamed to say, because it had been so long, I finished pretty quick. Henry wasn't mad, he just kept going. I was like, ok, this time's for you Henry. But then after the second go, Henry just kept on sucking.
"Henry, this has to stop. I need something to eat and to arrange the burial of my child."
But Henry's smile just grew wider and wider. And he kept on sucking.
I tried cutting the nose hose, the power cord, I even tried sticking a screwdriver in Henry's eyes. But he just kept sucking. Sucking.
Sucking. Like I was some kind of filthy carpet.
"Henry, stop. There's nothing left!" I said three days later when I entered a rare state of lucidity.
"HENRY DOESN'T CARE THAT YOU'RE DONE. HENRY NEEDS YOU TO BE CLEAN." Said Henry.
And I'm afraid to say that I too eventually died.
Credited to koalazeus
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