Avrom slunk back in the leeches nail-bitingly female dominated mode of transport.
He was doomed.
He knew all too well, as he saw the leech peering closely at him in the moose-encompassing rear-view mirror that this was not going to be a light skip in the simple minded park of female courtship. Ohh no. This was the new and improved Mark II model, the ultimate Jewish manhood numbing female.
He reached cautiosly into his pocket and pretended to flick sullenly through his missed-call text messages. This was a ploy. A ploy which to his chauvinistic disbelief turned very sour. Moose shrieked into his ear, meaning to sound soft and womanly but sounding like a bitch being repeatedly humped for non reproducing purposes - from the wildly averted corner of his eye she seemed to be a moose on heat.
He murmured something feverishly in a wild desperate moment which fell on completely club-deafened ears as the beastly twosome clattered on about which venue to proceed to, piercing the ever so frustrating bass noise a-la-mode. He bellowed, making them turn around in slightly annoyed surprise, their eyes berating him on his delinquency.
But he wasn't taking any faecal matter. He bellowed again. This time slightly increasing the tone of his volume.
This time he got the required response; leech jumped huddling closely to the protectful moose
before tightly gripping her femininely garbed steering wheel as if it would save her from this
maniac she didn't seem to know too well.
It seemed to her as she repeatedly glanced guardedly in her rearview mirror that this relationship was not as simple as it had seemed in her pink hindsight....
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