The Adventures of Abercrumbie and Futch

When we last left Abercrumbie, he was clandestinely gallivanting in the woods with Futch, his mistress, wife of the King, Queen of the land of undulating muscle and sun kissed skin.

Your face is pretty but I'm really checkin' out your boobs.

The King was enraged that his Queen would stoop to such a low level and publicly embarrass him, with his now former best friend, and so he sent his men, in all their sinewy beauty, to hunt down Abercrumbie and bring him before the King to answer for his crime.

Seriously dude. I have the best abs. No, I do. No, I do. You suck. No, you. No, you! 

Shut up. You shut up. No, you! No, you! (A loud smack is heard. Mission aborted.)

The King, upon hearing that his A-team did not fulfill their mission, decided that the time had come to use Chesty, his ace in the hole, his strongest and bravest man, reserved only for the most demanding and dangerous of tasks, to find the wretch who had stolen his beloved from him.

I will blind you with my perfect chest. You will bend to my will. 

Little did Chesty know that Abercrumbie was two steps ahead of him, and had planned an ambush along his route. Abercrumbie's motley crew waited patiently for Chesty to cross paths with them...

Dude, want some weed? We're like totally chillin'. 

We could like, stare at each other's perfect muscle tone.

Chesty could not resist Mary Jane's temptation or the opportunity to showcase his perfectly sculpted body. Upon getting word that his best and brightest had been thwarted by Abercrumbie, the King decided that this was a job that only he himself could do. He would pry his Queen away from that lying bastard of a former best friend. He gathered some supplies, and set out to reclaim what he believed was rightfully his.

However, along a twisted, secluded path, the King met Colt, a forest creature of unusual allure...

Got pants?

The King pulled out a pair of expensive, brand name pants from his trendy knapsack and gave them to Colt. He was then invited to a forest creatures' Fall ritual (kegger) where there reigned general merriment and drunkenness.

 

 

 

The next morning, the King awoke,  bathed in the gaze of a forest creature...

Hey babe, last night was like, totally wild. You're an animal. Grrr....

Now faced with his own infidelity, the King decided to give up his search for Abercrumbie and Futch, conceding victory to his loathed opponent. 

 

Upon hearing word that it was now safe for him to roam about freely once again, Abercrumbie emerged from hiding and decided to suggestively display himself at the beach, after his publicist announced that he and Futch had broken up due to "irreconcilable differences".

Yes, I always rest my hand on my inner thigh. Doesn't everyone?