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Hey folks, Leil here. I thought I’d share with you something that happened to me yesterday at Big Lots. I was there to pick up snacks, specifically my favorite snack: gummy bear fruit snacks. I just love to feel the gummy texture in my mouth as I bite down on those delicious bears. Now that my teeth are fake I don’t even have to worry about cavities, only about diabetes, which I don’t have. In my book, winners cannot get diabetes.

Well, I had five bulk boxes of these gummy bears, two under each arm and one held in my teeth (I don’t use carts or baskets — you don’t know where they’ve been!) when I spotted a man my age looking lost down the candy aisle.

He was just my type: charcoal black toupeé pulled down over his bushy white eyebrows, huge red flaring nostrils, and an enormous droopy lower lip that hung down just below his tiny chin. His upper lip was flat — bone flat — the way I like it. Under each armpit was a pool of reeking sweat, and his two pert nipples stuck out like birthday candles under his sky blue cardigan.

Hubba hubba, I thought, and decided now was the perfect time to implement some of the scientifically developed strategies for romance outlined in my books.

“Hubba hubba” I said, kicking off my slipper and placing my bare foot on his pubis.

“What?” he said.

“Hubba hubba, little piggy wants an oink?” I said, the cardboard box still in my teeth. I had backed against one of the display shelves, and by grinding my tail against it, had managed to shimmy out of my shorts and diaper, hands-free! They hit the floor with a wet splat.

“Like squirt?” I whispered, as I slid down onto the concrete floor and raised my legs and feet behind my head.

“Squirt?” he asked, his fat lip trembling lustily.

I bore down hard, and a jet of thick hot urine sent his hairpiece flying.

“Ah!” he said, stepping back seductively.

“There’s more where that came from!” I proudly announced, preparing to unleash a new liquid on my quarry.

“Dale? What’s going on?” I heard a woman say behind me.

“Barbara,” he said, “I think this woman’s had a stroke!”

“The only stroke I’ll be having is one on your hard hairy cock!” I purred, still clinging to my soggy boxes and preparing to let loose.

“Dale, I think that’s Leil Lowndes from Sky Mall.” I heard Barbara say. A fan! “She’s trying to seduce you!” Damn right, Babs.

But at that, Dale, the coward, backed away and ran to join his bitch wife down the aisle, leaving me feeling like a real fool there with my pants down, soaking in a pool of squirt. Oh what’s the point, I thought, grumpily. Why get up, nobody wants old Leil. I decided to take a nap instead and closed my eyes.

When I came to I was back home, strapped safely into bed. Had it all been a dream? Did I not even go to Big Lots in the first place?

But...no, there on my night table were my 5 wet boxes stacked one on top of another, like a tower of snacks. Oh boy, the first thing I’ll do when get my hands loose is dig right into those boxes and sink my teeth into those tasty bears by the fistful. Smack smack smack will be the sound of my lips and teeth as I devour those sweet fruit candies, and all who look at Leil in that moment will see nothing but smiles and laughs, even if my heart is broken.

For you see, the world is is full of losers, and the thing about losers is, they can’t stand winners. The minute something goes your way, there’ll always be a Barbara or a Dale ready to stab you in the back. Don’t take it personal — it’s the law of the land. The people on the bottom are always gunning for the ones on top. And don’t think you can win them over by groveling or saying sorry. Your job is to hold your head high and keep on knocking it out of the park, champ. And when you get to the top, you can bet old Leil will be there ready to give you a slow melting smile and a fruit snack.

Until then,

Yours truly,

xo, Leil

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IndoorGal

The diapie shimmy is key