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I Don't Want To Sleep Because I Am Going To Have That Nightmare About Cosmo and Wanda Fucking in My Bathroom At 1:45 AM

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Polnareff lay awake, Avdol asleep in the bed next to him. They enjoyed sleeping together, but their huge massive muscular testosterone filled bodies exceeded the wingspan of a single California king bed.

You heard me right, ladies and gentlemen, their mattresses can fly.

Polnareff resisted the urge to rest his eyes, knowing that every time he'd close them his brain would only have the mental image of Wanda straddling Cosmo in his bathroom. Juandisimo watched from the window, his muscles flexing harder than ever. It gave Polnareff chills just thinking about it.

"Yes...." Avdol snored, "I am..."

Polnareff considered waking up his lawfully wedded husband for moral support, but laws were illegal and he had his cooking show in the morning. It was his battle alone, the one he would have to face by himself, a lonely brawl. A super smash bros meelee.

Denzel Crocker (sorry if that's not his name I don't spend a lot of time thinking about Fairly Odd Parents anymore) was on the prowl. His "Make Polnareff Have Wet Dreams About Fairies Inator" was a success. It was now time for phase two.

"Hey, what's this I hear about inators?" Dr. Doofenshmirtz walked up, his MCR t-shirt hanging low over his ripped skinny jeans.

"Oh, Heinz!" Crocked winced, his tank top and basketball shorts fluttering as he did, "I was just waking up to ash and dust, y'know. Wiping my brow, and sweating my rust."

Heinz raised and eyebrow.

"Hmmmm it doesn't look like you're breathing in any chemicals." Heinz approached, pinning the jock to the wall outside of Polnareff and Avdol's home. 

"That's because I'm breaking in! Shaping up! Checking out on the prison bus!" Crocker yelled frantically, a jock like him, overpowered by a goth boy???, "It's the apocalypse after all."

Doof sighed, and pulled out his radioactiveinator.

Advol was waking up, he felt it in his bones. He looked out the window, the pants were singing. Polnareff sleeping soundly right next to him, Avdol slipped an apron onto his naked body. His cooking show must go on.

There were no fairies in Polnareff's nightmares ever again. The joy was enough to make his systems blow. Welcome to the new age, Jean-Pierre.