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Regular Show: Use Your Head!	By : Lemonator Category: +M through R > Regular Show Views: 14977 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Regular Show is property of J.G. Quintel and Cartoon Network and not me. I have not, nor do Intend to profit of this work. All resemblance to persons real or fictional is completely coincidental.

Chapter List
- 1-Regular Show: Use Your Head!
- 1
Meet Mordecai. He's a blue jay. Oh, and there's Rigby too. He's a raccoon, I think. They live a regular life, doing regular stuff, just like you and me. The pair (already good friends) were hired by Benson, a talking gumball machine. Now they work as groundskeepers for a local park, and have been provided rooms in the two-story house owned by Benson's supervisor.
Also working for the park is Skips, an immortal Sasquatch. Pops is an old British gentleman with an unusually large head, who appears to have suffered brain damage at some point. Muscle Man is a fat green guy (his friend is High-Five Ghost who...well, I think you get the picture). And of course, Mordecai is obsessed with Margaret the robin, who works at a local cafe and without whom this story would be quite different. *Ahem* Well, I think that's all you'll need to know to get started. Now you have some reference. Aren't you excited? Perhaps this short story will change your life! But probably not.
Mordecai had made a new home on the couch. As such, he took all the precautionary steps. He had gathered adequate sustenance to ensure his health (several bags of Ruffles brand chips strewn about on the coffee table, accompanied by a half-drank can of Monster energy drink); he had made sure he had protective shelter (the blanket he had thrown over his head in hopes he would be ignored), and of course he had meaningful companionship (basic cable TV and a remote control). He groaned and grabbed a handful of potato chips, stuffing them into his mouth.
Rigby walked leisurely down the stairs and saw Mordecai vegetating. He frowned.
"Dude, what are you doing?" Rigby asked, irritated. He gestured to the TV. "You've been watching the same show for six hours now! It's not even funny, all they do is skate down the same rail and then high-five each other!"
"Uhhhhhhhhh," Mordecai replied, making his counterpoint.
"Why are you moping around like this? It's not like you."
"Leave me alone Rigby," Mordecai muttered, and then paused. "On second thought, do you want to go somewhere? I'm super bored."
~~~
With cat-like reflexes, he ducked beneath the roundhouse kick that surely would have took his head off. Sweat dripped down his forehead and he wiped it away. He tried to clear his mind. His life in mortal danger, he shot forward like a bullet, sweeping the larger man's legs from beneath him. He raised his leg high in the air, planning to bring it down and make his foe eat concrete. However, the burly, shirtless man moved with impressive agility for a man of his size and did a back-flip from the ground, avoiding his kick. Then, he
"Oh crap," Mordecai swore as the large mustachioed Russian punched his character in the face, making his head explode. The overly-muscular foreigner stood up straight with his hands on his hips and began to laugh in horrifyingly clear sixteen-bit sound quality. In big bold yellow letters the game displayed the message, "You Lose," across the top of the screen. Mordecai sighed and leaned against the arcade machine, while Rigby stood awkwardly off to the side, looking at his friend.
"This game is right, you know," Mordecai said bitterly. "I'm a total loser."
"Don't beat yourself up, man," Rigby replied. "Everyone knows he spams that face exploding punch move like a total wuss."
"I'm not talking about the video game, Rigby!" Mordecai rested his chin on his wing, staring angrily at the bushy faced pixel man—who was still mocking him.
"It's no wonder Margaret doesn't like me," He said. "What could I possibly have that any of her hundred boyfriends don't? I'm twenty-three and I'm still working a dead-end job."
"Cheer up, dude," Rigby said, putting a hand on his shoulder. "At least you're not living with your parents."
Mordecai glared at him.
~~~
That night, Mordecai was restless. He turned over and over, muttering things in his sleep.
"Such a loser...Margaret..."
His dream took place in a bizarre black, red and purple hued void. She appeared before him, two identical men locking arms with her on either side.
"Oh, hey Mordecai!" She said, casually. "Meet my new boyfriend. Boyfriends? Whatever. His name is Klaus."
"Wha-wha-" He stuttered uncomfortably.
"Yeah, well he's this super hot foreign model slash bodybuilder slash astrophysicist poet! He was smart enough to design his own cloning machine, so now I have twice as much of him to go around. Isn't that great?"
"B-b-b-b-u-"
"He won the Nobel Peace Prize last week. They're holding the ceremony this Friday. Anyway, I'm so glad you're happy for me, dude! Well, I gotta get going. Klaus is going to show me how to care for crippled orphans and raise them to be well-adjusted members of society. See ya!"
Mordecai shot up in bed, suddenly wide awake.
"No, Margaret! Don't go with him! He's a tool!"
Rigby groaned.
~~~
The next morning, Rigby occupied the same space his friend had the other day, flipping through channels with bags under his eyes.
"Man," He said. "Having a friend with a fragile ego sucks."
"Rigby!"
The raccoon almost jumped out of his seat. Regaining his composure, he turned and saw Mordecai standing over him, a giddy expression on his face. Rigby was too annoyed to notice though.
"What is it, Mordecai?" He asked. "Should I just call a therapist now?"
"No, that's not it, dude," Mordecai said, barely able to contain his enthusiasm. "Listen to this voice message."
He practically flew into the kitchen. Rigby sighed, groggily and very reluctantly getting up off the couch to follow his roommate. The phone beeped, and shortly after he heard a very familiar voice.
"—Hey Mordecai, this is Margaret. I was planning on having a small party this Friday with a few friends. I'm gonna show a movie or two, and I have snacks lying around the house. Nothing special. Just wanted to know if you could make it. Anyway, I look forward to hearing from you. Later." After the second beep passed, Rigby just sort of stared at him.
"Woah man, what did you do?" He asked. "She's totally into you!"
"Don't be stupid," Mordecai replied with a small smile. "She's having other friends over. She isn't planning anything like that."
Rigby paused for a moment.
"Then why are you so excited?" He asked.
"Because, dude," Mordecai said just a little impatiently. "This means she actually cares about me and acknowledges my existence. And this way I can get some quality bonding time in with her, make her like me more and more over time. It's the perfect plan."
"That doesn't make any sense," Rigby said, scowling.
"You don't make sense," Mordecai shot back, arms folded. "Shut up."
~~~
The big day arrived, and Mordecai was ecstatic. He had called Margaret back only a few hours after getting the message. He now stood in front of the mirror in their room, turning to see how he looked from different angles. Rigby sat on his trampoline, intent on his game of paddle ball.
"Oh man, oh man, oh man," Mordecai looked around frantically, as if searching for something. "Dude, I don't know what to wear. What do I wear?!"
"Dude." Rigby said, sternly. The blue jay grabbed his shoulders, a frantic, almost manic look in his bloodshot eyes.
"What? Do you think I should wear my striped flannel shirt?!"
"Dude," Rigby said again, annoyed that his intense game had been interrupted. "You don't have a flannel shirt. You don't wear clothes. You're a bird."
"Oh. Oh yeah, that's right," Mordecai replied, calming down and letting go of his friend. "Sorry. I'm just really nervous."
"Oh no, it's fine, Mr. Psychopath. How do you know this isn't a trap, anyway?"
"Pfft," Mordecai said, adjusting his hair. "Listen to you, Mr. Paranoia."
"What if she wants to take you over there just so she can embarrass you in front of her friends and damage your self-esteem even more?" He narrowed his eyes. "I don't trust girls."
"Don't be ridiculous man," Mordecai said, applying some deodorant. "Besides, Margaret's not a girl. She's a woman."
"Oh brother," Rigby said, making a face. "Well, good luck anyway."
"Thanks," Mordecai said, grabbing his keys and heading downstairs. Rigby followed him. "But I won't need it. I'm smooth." He grabbed a pair of sunglasses from the dresser by the door and donned them proudly.
"Yeah, definitely!" Rigby said reassuringly as his friend opened the door and walked out. Rigby watched him walk down the porch steps and get into his car.
"He's a goner," He said, shaking his head.
Before Mordecai drove away, he took off his shades and deposited them in the glove department. Just in case.
~~~
After he parked the old brown Cadillac at her place, he looked himself over in his rear-view and exhaled nervously.
"Alright dude, calm down," He said aloud. "Just be cool. It's not like you're going to be alone with her in there anyway."
Exiting the car, he realized that this was the first time he'd seen her house. It was modest, with only two floors, and yet it still looked like she had a respectable amount of money. The porch had large cement pillars supporting a thin awning, clearly designed to provide shade and little else. The body of the house was an olive green—the awning and roof a much darker color. There were two windows upstairs, and the door was wooden, with a large old-fashioned knocker on it. Out front, a lush garden prospered. Mordecai found that staring at it was comparable to looking down the barrel of a kaleidoscope. There were multitudes of exotic flowers, none of which he knew the names of.
He wrapped on the door with the knocker, trying to make himself look as disaffected as possible.
I'm smooth, He repeated to himself, practically swallowing his Adam's apple while trying to compose himself. The door opened then and Margaret was standing there smiling. She was clothed in black pajamas with a thick white central stripe running down the shirt. Her pants were pure black, lacking the former quality.
"Hey Margaret," Mordecai said, suave and in control on the outside, frightened child on the inside.
"Hey Mordecai," She replied. "Come on in."
He did so, seating himself on the couch in her spacious living room. Which—by the way—consisted of two large perpendicular couches, as well as a large plasma screen television and tall wooden shelves on either side of it. These were filled with DVDs—so many in fact that some had fallen out onto the floor and some were on their way. There was a drawer at the bottom of one of the shelves that seemed like it had been forced closed, and not very successfully; he could see plastic cases poking out of the top, and the drawer itself sagged from the excess weight. There was a small leather foot rest near the couches and a coffee table with a bunch of coasters and a lot more mug stains than someone apparently had hoped for.
"So, where are your friends?" Mordecai asked restlessly (but hiding it fairly well).
"Oh, they couldn't make it," She said, walking into the kitchen. "What do you want to watch? I'm making popcorn."
"W-what did you say?" He breathed, unintelligible to everyone but himself. Mr. Smooth at this point had jumped out of the window and paralyzed himself. His heart started to pound violently against his chest. He smelled the sweet, buttery aroma emanating from the other room and found himself unable to enjoy it. He could hear the popping of kernels. She walked back into the living room.
"Sorry man, hope you like warm fruit punch."
Pop. Pop. Pop.
"It's the only wet thing I have in the house, unfortunately."
Pop. Pop. Pop.
"Y-y-you don't say..." Mordecai said, nervously, eyes drawn inadvertently to the swell of her breast. She leaned forward and draped her arm over his shoulder.
"Popcorn burnt too, and that was my last bag. Guess we'll have to find something else to eat."
Pop Pop Pop Pop.
"Y-y-y-yeah..." He stammered, gulping.
"What movie do you want to watch, Mordecai?" She asked. "We could watch an action movie, or...we could watch something a bit more...intimate." She stood back up, came around and took a seat next to him.
"Intimate?" He asked, trying to prevent his jaw from falling to the floor.
"You know," She said. "Like a romantic comedy or something."
He tried to resume regular breathing.
"Why don't you go wash your hands?" She asked. "I'll make food a little later. For now I'll start the movie. I guess I'll just pick something since you don't seem to have much input."
His legs reluctantly obeyed, getting up off the couch and taking him into a room he hadn't seen before. Compared to the living room, her kitchen was small. There was a single circular wooden table by the window highlighted by an empty vase and a few unwashed plates. There was an old record player next to the dishwasher. Other than that it was pretty standard fare: A smallish white refrigerator, dark green wallpaper to match the house, various other staple appliances and the like. He went over to the sink, and turned the faucet. As the warm water flowed over his feathers, he felt himself relax a little.
What's going on? He asked himself. Does she want me, or is she just totally oblivious? Or...maybe she's just screwing with me, He thought angrily. Maybe Rigby was right, maybe he was completely out of his el—
His thoughts were interrupted by a pair of red wings that wrapped around his waist. Similarly crimson hands folded over his crotch. He felt himself pulled away from the sink gently, something soft and warm pressing into his back.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
"Mordecai..." She whispered in his ear. His member swelled immediately, Margaret allowing it to slip loosely between her laced fingers.
"Why," She asked. "Didn't you ever say anything to me? I've been waiting for an excuse to get you over my house not long after we met."
"So your friends..." He muttered.
"Yeah," She said, stroking the fur around his loins. He shuddered, his breathing uneven and his pace quickened. "I lied." She left him standing there awkwardly, his erection poking out painfully from beneath his feathers. Turning, he saw that she was naked. The crest on his head rose up as Margaret leaned back across the kitchen table, thoughtlessly pushing anything there out of the way. She sat with her legs crossed. With a sultry grin, she spread them slowly, revealing her womanhood.
"Come here, Mordecai," She cooed, eyes narrowed seductively.
Pop. Pop.
"Y-y-y-y-I-I-I-I-I-" He managed, moving toward her at a snail's pace. When he finally reached her, she lifted her thin, slender legs and rested them atop Mordecai's shoulders. He stared at her tiny pink pussy, which stood out in stark contrast to her red feathers.
"So I just..."
"Yeah. Don't think about it too much."
With only the slightest bit of hesitation, he pressed his hard cock up against her lips. The initial contact was almost overwhelming for him, and he almost came right then. He didn't though, and thanked god. As he slipped past those waiting lips, he met with sudden resistance. The entrance to her vagina was practically sealed off.
"Push," She said, seeing the Blue Jay was having trouble.
"Huh?" He asked, confused. She sighed. Sliding her legs off of his shoulders, she wrapped them around his waist, and drew him in. With a gasp, he sank a few inches into her and stopped.
"Don't go all out yet," She breathed, getting her legs comfortably perched on his shoulders once more. "Build up to it."
He nodded, and instead of doing what his instincts told him, he withdrew until the head of his dick was half removed from her lips, before throwing his hips forward and burying himself back into her, going a bit deeper this time. He began to repeat this process, going a little deeper each time. He found himself getting into a natural rhythm, despite not having any clue what he was supposed to do. As this was his first time, every small pleasure felt immeasurably better. He sustained a long groan, the warm flesh snug around his cock, fitting him like a glove. It was like being high. The deeper he got, the faster his pace became. The table began to rock with each thrust, warning the uncaring people who were using it so unconventionally it might not hold. He slid himself in and out, the liquids within her body providing a natural lubrication which was helping him to slowly penetrate her tight passage.
Pop. Pop. Pop. Pop.
Mordecai withdrew completely, pressed his length against her opening, and plunged himself all the way into her. Flesh yielded and gave way in the wake of his plow. The impact of their two sexes completing each other was like an explosion, and Margaret moaned suddenly, gripping the edges of the table and shuddering violently. The vibrations shot through his body like a burst of adrenaline and he felt inspired. He drew himself almost all the way out and thrust himself in once more, hard and slow. He maintained this pace, seemingly having gone a step backwards from where they had been. With each thrust, he leaned into it more, using his whole body. He reached down and palmed her plump, pert breasts, feeling her nipples poking stiffly against his hands. He pushed them forward, back towards her, and then towards him as he thrust into her wetness. Letting go of her voluptuous mounds with one hand, he grabbed her tail feathers and pulled her gorgeous, thick ass down onto him with every thrust. He then grabbed her legs in his arms and as he thrust into her, pushed them back.
She let out a sharp gasp, not expecting him to be so smart. As her legs went back, he managed to sink himself even deeper into her, more than he had thought possible. He sped up his pace, closing his eyes, denying himself the image of not only the spreading pool of moisture that had dripped from between her legs but also her; her mouth hung open, gasping with each body-rocking thrust, overtaken by the pleasure she was being given. She moaned wildly, throwing her head back. Mordecai felt himself approaching his limit and he began frantically ramming her cunt, trying to maintain himself as long as possible. He came with a groan, unloading too much for her pussy to take in, and it oozed out onto the table. He continued to pound into her even as he was spurting thick gobs of white into her insides, not wanting it to stop. He continued his wild thrusts until he went limp within her.
Pop.
"Oh...oh wow," Margaret said, panting.
~~~
Margaret and Mordecai reclined together on her large queen-sized mattress; they had not bothered to get dressed. Mordecai had his arms folded behind his head, a content smirk on his face.
"That was great," Margaret said appreciatively.
"Yeah," Mordecai agreed. "That first time and the ten times after it. Especially when we had that wild group orgy with all the strippers."
"Yeah..." She agreed, cherishing the memory. "Hey, are you really a virgin?"
"Well," Mordecai chuckled. "I was."
"Wow," She said. "Natural born talent, I guess. Anyway, it’s getting late man. I'll talk to you tomorrow, okay?"
"Yeah, okay," He said, still grinning. "Good night, Margaret."
"Good night, Mordecai."
With that, she turned off the light and rolled over on her side. He sighed contentedly, looking up at the ceiling. What a day. He wondered if this had just been a one night stand, or if they were actually going to start dating. Either way, he wouldn't be complaining about his job for at least a week. Just as he was drifting off to sleep, a low, whispery voice drifted up to his ears from beneath the sheets.
"What, you aren't going to sleep yet, are you?"
"Excuse me?" Mordecai asked.
"Do I have to spell it out for you? Rape her! Do it now! Just look at that sexy curve in the sheets!"
"Oh god," Mordecai said. "You're one of the voices in my head, aren't you? Oh god, Rigby was right. I'm a psychopath!"
"No, no, you're not crazy. This is just your penis speaking."
"Oh god, my penis is talking to me. I'm a psychopath!"
"Look Mordecai," His penis said patiently. "All penises can talk. They just don't usually. This is a special case."
"So you want me to rape her?" Mordecai asked incredulously. "What's wrong with you, man? I spent all this time trying to get her to like me, why the hell would I do that?"
"Fine. I guess I'll have to do it myself."
"What?!" Mordecai heard a soft click, sort of like two puzzle pieces coming apart. He saw a bulge appear in the covers down by his crotch, then it began to move away from him, over towards the sleeping Margaret. Emerging from the sheets, his penis stood tall, bouncing along on its now mobile testicles. It leaped up on Margaret's shoulder.
"Wake, up, bitch!"
"Margaret!" Mordecai shouted. "Watch out!"
"Hnnnnuuuh?" She muttered, still half asleep. She cried out in shock when Mordecai's detached member hauled off and smacked her in the face with its length. Reacting as quickly as he could, Mordecai punched his junk, sending it flying into the far wall. He felt the impact, and whimpered, holding his flat crotch.
"C'mon," He said. "We have to get out of here!" He took her by the hand and led her out of the room.
"Wait!" She said, confused. "I'm still naked!"
"It's cool," He replied. "I do it all the time!"
As they left the room, Mordecai's penis slid down the wall and onto the floor, groaning. Seething with rage, it gritted its teeth and strained. A pair of arms and legs sprouted from its balls, equipped with gloves and work boots for those difficult climbs. It then grew a small, twisty mustache for good measure.
~~~
It was morning.
"So that's what happened," Margaret said, in the passenger seat. "I wouldn't have believed it if I didn't see it myself."
"I understand it just as much as you do," Mordecai replied, focusing on the road ahead of him. "It's best not to question these things."
As they approached the house, he saw Benson standing outside, arms folded. The rest of his fellow employees were there too, standing around. As Mordecai stepped out of the car, he was greeted by his supervisor's warm disposition.
"Mordecai," He said. "You're five minutes late. You'd better have a good explanation for this."
"Benson!" Mordecai yelled, panicked. "My penis turned evil, separated itself from my body, tried to sexually assault Margaret, and is probably now chasing after us!"
Benson stared at him.
"You know," The gumball dispenser said. "You've had some stupid excuses in the past, but that one doesn't even justify a response."
"It's true, Benson." Margaret said, coming out of the passenger seat and walking over to where the others were. "I saw it myself."
"Really?" He asked, dumbstruck. "You got Margaret to go along with this? That's low, Mordecai."
Mordecai suddenly realized that there was someone missing.
"Hey," He said. "Where's Skips?"
Benson started to say something, but paused. He scratched the large glass dome that served as his head.
"Actually, that's a good question," He said. "Where is Skips?"
"In here," A gruff voice called from inside the house. "You guys need to come see this."
Inside, they observed the television, which was turned to a local news channel.
"I'm here on the scene downtown, where an evil penis and his growing number of followers have raided an armory and are now attempting to take control of city hall. When asked by this reporter what his demands were, he replied with an enthusiastic: 'strippers and mass chaos.' Back to you, Chris."
The Yeti turned off the TV, and turned to the awestruck group behind him.
"Looks like Mordecai was telling the truth," He said grimly.
Benson stood, his mouth agape.
"...I think I'll just take your word from now on, Mordecai," He said quietly.
~~~
They arrived on the scene in the house car; the normally bustling and friendly town now a blackened hellscape. The sky was a dark red, and flames jumped out of tall buildings; the road was cracked and torn in places, and a large yellow School Bus was overturned in the middle of the street with its windows smashed out. People ran past them, screaming hysterically. Further up the street, a barricade was set up in front of city hall. Out the front window, they could see Mordecai's evil penis standing atop the blockade, holding a gun to the mayor's head. Skips drove the car as close as he felt was safe, before making a sharp turn to the left. He ushered them out of the car and ducked behind it, urging them to follow his example.
"This way we'll have the car as cover," The large furry man stated matter-of-factly. Looking over the top, he saw that Mordecai's malicious member had gathered an army of followers; at least a hundred other penises stood along side him, all of various shapes, sizes and colors.
"Hmmn," Skips said. "This is worse than I thought. Mordecai."
"Yes?" Mordecai asked, not necessarily wanting to hear what the Sasquatch had to say.
"We need to get that hostage away from him."
"How are we supposed to do that?" Mordecai asked, panicked.
"You leave that to me. Just distract him." With that, Skips ducked and rolled out from behind the car and into a nearby alleyway.
"Wait! Don't leave us, Skips!" Mordecai called out in a harsh whisper.
"It's too late Mordecai," Margaret said. "He's already gone. You'll have to think of something."
He stared ahead solemnly for a moment before grabbing her hand.
"C'mon, follow my lead."
~~~
Skips crouched in the dark alley, looking around the corner to get a better view of his target. Satisfied with the distance, he began his ascent. With superhuman strength he hoisted himself upwards, fingers digging into the solid brick and supporting his immense weight. Within seconds he had reached the roof and pulled himself up. He skipped gracefully across the top of the building and leapt through the air and rolled upon landing on the next parapet.
Coming out of his somersault, he retained his earlier speed, not wanting to waste time. He recoiled suddenly, a jet of flames shooting up from a crack in the apartment complex. Bracing himself, he ran through the flames with conviction. He rolled several times to put out of the fire. As he made his way over to the next rooftop, he stared intently down at Mordecai and the others, praying his plan would work.
~~~
Mordecai and Margaret came out from behind the car slowly, hands raised.
"Dude, we give up," Mordecai called out. "We're totally outmatched."
"Yeah," Margaret agreed. "I'm yours if you still want me."
"Wow, really?" Mordecai's penis asked. "I mean, um, that's all very well. If you come forward we will not shoot—"
"One thing though," His former owner cut him off. "I need to know. What made you turn evil?"
"It's not me, specifically. All penises are evil. It's those smug brains that keep us in line. Usually that is."
"Oh. I see," Mordecai said with faux interest. "Um, so after this, what's your plan for world domination?"
"I'm so flattered that you would ask! Well, after I take over this town..."
~~~
That's right, Skips thought. Just keep him talking, Mordecai. He moved toward City Hall with impressive speed and unprecedented agility for a Yeti. His footfalls were quiet, and he stayed in the shadows to avoid detection. Then he was there, and he jumped down, rolling once more, this time to silence his fall more than anything else. Now behind the barricade, he stealthily approached their leader.
"...And I was thinking we could get a water cooler set up, to establish a more welcoming work environment..."
In one swift motion, Skips lunged forward and grabbed the Mayor. He hit the ground running, prepared to start weaving as soon as they noticed his presence and began shooting.
"Mordecai, Margaret!" He yelled. "Get back behind the car!"
They obliged, getting out of the line of fire. Skips continued to make good on his namesake, moving in irregular patterns as he did so, trying to throw off the enemy's aim. Ducking and weaving, he made his way to the other side of the street, where he jumped up onto a drain pipe and began to pull himself up. Bullets ricocheted off the metal above and below him as he climbed. He didn't hesitate though, knowing he would be dead if he did. One grazed his head and he ignored it, pulling himself up and the mayor with him. He found cover quick, crouching behind a large chimneystack.
Mordecai gripped Margaret's hand tightly.
"Man, I hope Skips'll be okay," He said.
With a look of determination, Margaret ran out from behind the car and started making her way to the blockade.
"Margaret!" He yelled. "Where are you going?"
She ignored him, completely driven and advancing fast on the stronghold. One of the penises noticed her and pointed out the oncoming attacker.
"Shoot her!" Their commander shouted. They opened fire on the robin, but it was too late. She had already made impressive progress. She dodged efficiently and used conveniently placed debris on the road for cover as she made her way there.
"She's just one woman!" He shouted in frustration. "Can't you do anything ri—" He paused as a shadow fell over him. He turned just in time to see Margaret grab him and lift him into the air.
"Wha-what are you doing?" He asked in terror.
Without hesitation she licked his entire length, from the base to his mushroom-shaped head, and then closed her lips around his tip. She took him in, sliding him back into her throat until her lips made contact with the top of his balls. Not used to the debilitating pleasure, he felt himself throb. Back behind the car, Mordecai felt the same pleasure and gripped the side of the car to steady himself. Eyes widening in surprise she withdrew, not expecting him to lose it so quickly. As he slipped from her mouth, he erupted, spewing a thick syrupy mess of ejaculate onto her face. She shut an eye reflexively as a line of white fell across it. A large gob splattered on her cheek, dripping slowly down to her chin. And a thin white rope still connected his swollen head to her beak. He started slouching over, not standing up quite as straight as he had. He let out a long sigh.
"Woah..." He said. "I feel so...alive. I don't even feel like taking over the world anymore..." He turned to Margaret and shook her hand enthusiastically.
"Thank you young lady, for giving me a new outlook on life! I think I'm going to go do volunteer work down at the homeless shelter."
"No problem," She replied, smiling. "The name's Margaret by the way." She then turned to look at Mordecai and the rest, who had come out from behind the car. They were all staring at her in disbelief.
"What?" She asked, cum still drizzled on her face.
Mordecai groaned, standing next to Rigby. "Crap man, does she have any idea what she's doing to me?"
"Dude, you're not the only one," Rigby replied, still staring.
Mordecai punched him in the shoulder. Hard.
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Regular Show: Use Your Head!