Balls’ Bedtime Stories – Epilogue

Balls finished cleaning up and splashed some water on his face.  He took a drink from the glass of cold tap water by the sink.  Although water is supposed to have no taste, this tasted delicious. Then he realized he could still taste her.

He walked out of the suite’s bathroom and made his way to the bed.

She was lying naked on the bed, where they had finished, and he, momentarily, forgot who he was, what he was, and the events of the previous month. Her eyes were closed, but she wasn’t asleep, just resting.  He started caressing her again and kissing her body. At the exact moment his lips touched her nipple, a cell phone beeped.

It was hers.

“I’m sorry”, she said, as she reached for the phone on the nightstand.

“El esposo?”


Balls let out a laugh.  “Ok, I guess playtime is over.”  He kissed her passionately on the mouth and slapped her ass as she headed to the shower.  He sat on the bed and watched her perfect ass as she walked into the bathroom. Once she was out of sight, he turned the TV on.

It being a Sunday, two of the local channels were showing American football.  “Ugh”, he exclaimed and quickly put the TV on mute.  Before he could engage the Guide function, he saw these words on the crawl at the bottom of the screen:

BREAKING:  Robert Kraft named NFL Commissioner. Ivanka Trump takes over Patriots ownership.

Balls raised an imaginary glass.  “To you, Mr. Brady! Or, should I say, Ambassador Brady!”

Mr. Putin and Mr. Trump had taken a substantial amount of diamonds with them, but not all.  Putin had worked out a deal with Credit Suisse so that the insurance arm of the company would pay for the loss. Of course, this would mean higher premiums for the general customers but no one in the international media cared.

The power vacuum in the NFL was filled quickly and easily by Robert Kraft, owner of the Patriots.  Mr. Brady convinced the other owners to vote for Kraft in exchange for Mr. Trump buying the Patriots at a record price.  The sale was, of course, leveraged through Mr. Trump’s and Sergei Roldugin’s many companies and resulted in no taxes being paid and no direct capital outlay from Mr. Trump’s personal accounts.

In return, Mr. Brady was named American Ambassador to Brazil.  He and his wife Giselle opened a Trump Hotel on Copacabana Beach and were selected as King and Queen of Carnaval.  In order to ensure his legacy at the Patriots, Mr. Brady convinced Mr. Kraft to trade Coach Bellichick to the Cleveland Browns for a 6th round pick.

Goodell’s disappearance had been explained away quite easily thanks to a fortuitous avalanche that hit a Swiss ski resort.  Normally a great skier, but just bad luck.  Nothing he could do.  Nothing either could do, really.  Poor PK thought he would give this snowboarding thing a try.  Thought maybe he could write about it for his blog.  The bodies were never found.

As none of this involved the British government and the English Premier League was now safe from the threat of NFL invasion (Balls may or may not have negotiated with Mr. Brady the cancellation of all future London NFL games), M had told Balls the case was closed and to take a two-week vacation to Los Angeles.  It was winter, but the weather was warm and she was there.

For some reason, his penis was now erect.  She walked out of the bathroom, fully dressed. As she turned, she said, “Ok, babes, I’ve got to..”  She saw it.  “Why do you do this to me?”

“What?” he laughed, walking towards her.  She dropped her purse at his feet.

“Ooopsies”, she smiled…

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Oh goddammit balls!!!!!!!
– every woman who’s ever met balls


I’m pretty sure Drumpf could literally appoint Satan to Secretary of Treasury, and every single one of the #DEPLORABLE twitter crowd would applaud, especially those with #CHRISTIAN in their profile.


Why do you hate Baby Jesus?

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Marc Trestmans Windowless Van

I still refuse to read. My BAC is like 4.0 by now