A Date with a Monster - Illustrated

One nascent morn,
I fell—
the calculated malfeasance of
aging Oakland Raider's Chankletas to blame.

As the dappled sunlight twisted through Bluejack oak,
producing variegated colors on my offended pride,
a resonating terror trilled my ears,
sending chilling bites to my need.

Harkening a knight,
a princess wept for reprieve.
Stirring wind warbled her cultured scent to my queer detector,
inspiring my heart to beat in a drumming march.

Standing on the hood of pristine motor car,
pointing to an egalitarian monster,
she looked wickedly regal,
as billowing wind provided a glimpse of her girly-girl panties.

Despite tumult of the footsie,
I stood and ventured forth—
the brave slayer of monsters,
knight of the realm and heady savior of fair maidens.

“My hero,” she crooned in scintillating falsetto,
beading sweat dripping from her chamfered brow.
Hands clasped,
she prayed for salvation from a worthy subject.

I bowed with respect,
hoping for a rewarding kiss from a virgin sweet,
enticing a lubricating river to seep in my boyshorts—
how my courage soared!

Ever the brave hero,
mustering unknown strength,
I pulled out my weapon and attacked,
besting the monster with but a single thrust.

Wrapped in a piece of tissue whilst the beastie writhed in fear,
imbued with the muscle of potent Lancelot love-struck by Guinevere,
I cast the monster asunder—
the six-inch alligator never to harm another poor maiden again.