It has been a year since Wilbur went to Denny's. Now it is JSchlatt's turn, his Uber pulls up at a Nando's over on the piers of Brighton. Like a true New Yorker he carries all of his worldly possessions as a thick wad of cash strapped under his New York Yankees hat. He walks up to the register, where a short boy with a green shirt sits. Tubbo gestures at a sad tiny booth sat between the kitchen and the toilets. It's grimy. No one knows why. He swaggers like a big guy.
Like a little bitch, Jschlatt moves through the restaurant pretending he doesn't look like he lives inside of a dumpster.
In the world's smallest black and red button up, that ends before his rib cage, Wilbur walks out. Schlatt can just barely see the bottom half of Wilbur's nipples appearing under the bottom of the shirt, if it can even be called a shirt.
"Ayup! What do you want?" Wilbur says in a sultry, strong fake cockney accent.
"You?" Schlatt says, bitting his mustache like the shitty cum-soaked sponge that it is.
"Maybe later, big boy." Wilbur says while winking both eyes, ignoring the horrible overbite lip-bite going on in front of him.
"Ok. Two chicken thighs on skewers then please! Lemon & herb of course."
"It will be right out."
69 seconds later Wilbur is coming back out gripping two plain white pieces of chicken. He has forgotten the stick. This Nando's has shit customer service- but it is sexy so it is okay.
"Your dinner. Save room for dessert." Wilbur winks with both eyes again, while holding out the pale chicken, the moist flesh resting on his open palm.
"Thank you," Schlatt says before leaning forward and deep throating one of the two chicken thighs. The white meat slips straight down his throat. Wilbur is still holding the other thigh in his left hand staring confused and very aroused.
Like a human hoover, Schlatt sucks all the tender meat off of the bones. The one-man suck machine 5000 leaves nothing but spit and a very horny long boi. This is the first thigh- his sultry chicken seduction was only getting started.
Wilbur grips the thigh tighter in his freakishly thin and stupidly long fingers. His sausage fingers are just right for sucking off. Schlatt's lips close around the thigh and he starts sucking on more skin, wet slurping between the folds of chicken and Wilbur's hand. He looks up from this disgusting and the sexy display of suckery, diarrhea brown eyes displaying nothing but lust.
As he finishes the chicken, his lips begin to tingle and his tonsils start to burn. Wilbur can only shift his hips to hide his throbbing Tower of London. There's nothing more hot than seeing Schlatt pant and squirm like he's about to shit his pants from the most spice a white man can handle.
Through tears of lemony, zesty, definitely super spicy chicken, Schlatt squints at Wilbur. He's never been more aroused and violently uncomfortable at once: Nando's toilets make him horny. Like, really horny.
They make eye contact like in some terrible chick flick, but there is only dick licking going on within the eyes of these horny bastards.
Schlatt came to Britain to get subpar, bland, spicy, choking hazard chicken and to get fucked in the arse. Today, he would be getting both. He could feel it in his gallbladder.
With his hand fully in Schlatt's mouth, Wilbur wiggles his fingers suggestively. Wet, slippery digits find a bone from the chicken and Schlatt lets out a muffled moan. This is the best foreplay the Queen has ever seemed .
Wilbur leans down and whispers seductively, like the priest during confession, "I'll give you a bowl of milk but you better bend over and lap it up like the good discord kitten I know you are." Schlatt lets out a little "nyah" of a moan, nodding his head. He could feel his Empire State Penis getting hard.
Pulling his hand out of Schlatt's whore throat, Wilbur goes to grab the milk. Schlatt was still panting as he walked away, staring at that flat British bussy.
Tubbo is standing by the bathroom door horrified cause he just had to pee. He hopes that Wilbur never comes back with the milk. This has gotten out of hand very quickly, he is not paid enough for this.
Wilbur walks into the kitchen and finds the milk just sitting on the shelf with a Gatorade nipple attached. Perfect for sucking on, or sucking off. He grabs the gallon quickly and runs out to his white boy.
Said crème man was bent over, his gaping asshole fluttering in the wind. He had shimmied out of his skin tight vinyl shorts that he always wears under his boxers. There was nothing left to prevent the best reunion of Britain and America since the War of 1812. Wilbur skips merrily the rest of the way to Schlatt, stopping when his still pantsed meat pack was pressed against the racists shoulder. Wilbur lead over Schlatt's head, the outline of his schmeat pressed harshly into Schlatt's ear, as he poured the entire gallon of milk into a bowl resting directly under Schlatt's chin.
Wilbur paused, "Why does it look like American Airlines Flight 11 crashed into you hole?"
The lime green buttplug that Schlatt had bought from Dream's 10 million merch drop had been seized by customs. Schlatt's bussy was at the mercy of the Big Ben, his Statue of Liberty resting heavily on his mini mutton chops.
Wilbur licks his nose in excitement. With a sinkhole bussy spread out in the booth for him, he's ready to go spelunking. Just as Schlatt goes to submerge his face in the bowl of milk on the table, he snatches it back. There is milk everywhere on Schlatt's face. It looks like cum. Watery, slippery, medically concerning cum.
With the entire gallon of milk in the bowl, Wilbur dips his dick and balls in it like an Oreo. Oreo thins are the best Oreo, but with a gaping asshole it was more like mega stuffed.
Schlatt lets out a guttural hhrrmmm, like he wanted emeralds, as Wilbur thrusts deep into his colon. "Umph- I know how Mr. Hands felt" the New Yorker groans before passing out, landing face down in the milk bowl.
Wilbur whips his head around at the gentle jingle of the bell at the front door.
There standing in the doorway is Quackity, shotgun strapped to his back and a shiny revolver brandished just below his belt.
