Being a completely fictional alternate ending, graciously provided by Marriedman.

The next day I felt astonishingly depressed. I couldn't put my finger on why, but something was definitely wrong. As the day moved on I felt myself getting more and more upset. What was this? Why was I feeling this way? Finally at around eight I decided that I'd had enough of this. No matter what was going on, it wasn't ok for me to feel like this. So I did the first thing that came naturally to me. I went into my room, shut my door, and pulled out my fishiecock. I started to play with it when I had a sudden urge to see some naked ass. I put my fishiebird back in my pants and hopped in my Escort (yes, I drive a Ford). I knew where I wanted to go, but I also knew that I needed some cash. So I stopped by the 7-11 to use their ATM and buy a slurpee. After I got my cash, I went by the magazine rack. I usually do this to see if there are any new porn mags out. I scanned the rack and noticed a newer magazine, I picked it up and when I saw what it was I immediately ejaculated all over the magazine. There was a hole in my trousers where the burst took place, and the entire convenience store was staring at me. I of course, had to pay for the magazine, since I had creamed all over it. It was quite embarrassing purchasing the premier edition of "Pokemyhontas," the new Native American Porn magazine.

After I made my purchase, I jumped into my Escort and peeled out of the parking lot. I needed to think, I needed to figure out what just happened. It couldn't be. I know that I have no attraction to her. I decided that going to the strip club was definitely what I needed.

I enjoy the winter for numerous reasons, one being that I like snow, a lot. The second being that I enjoy the "Strippers on Ice" show that the strip club puts on during the holiday season. (I actually like winter for three reasons, but I didn't know if you all would like the fact that I fist polar bears for fun.)

Three hours later, the strippers were hot and I was drunk. It was a good night, and it was serving its purpose. I hadn't thought about FIB all night. I mean, I don't really care that she doesn't like me. I just care because I am sensitive like that. But after a few more drinks, the only thing I would remember was how nice that naked ass looked shaking in front of me, as the stripper did a triple axel and made my heart do a double sachow.

Morning. I woke up with a pounding headache. Sweet Fancy Moses my head hurt. And I was on the couch. At least I'm at home, but why the hell am I on the couch? I guess it's a good thing that FIB doesn't live here anymore. She would have totally taken advantage of me. I got up to wash my face and make myself a cup of coffee when I tripped over something. An ice skate? Nice, I must have had me some anus last night. At that exact moment, the bathroom door opened and out came LR in a towel. He must have taken a shower because his hair was drenched.

(Intermission)

Meanwhile in New York, marriedman was in his element. The young lady (his prey) was lying spread eagle on the table. He was standing over her, nude, in all his glory.

"Your mullet, it's… it's… so amazing!" she exclaimed.
"Are you ready for me to lay my pipe?" marriedman asked her.
"Oh, yes!" she shouted back in anticipation.
"Where shall I lay it?" he queried.
"In between my boobs," she stated.
"Your profile boobs are exquisite, I believe that is exactly what I'll do," he decided.
"Say my name, marriedman, say it!"
"Are you sure? We are in a strange place," he replied.
"Yes, I don't care where. Say Jazz, even in strange places."

The next few seconds were filled with ecstasy, and then it was over.

"I'll always look back, and remember the time that marriedman ran it through me at the morgue."

(End of Intermission)

"Hey man, did you see me come in last night?" I asked him.
"Yeah, it was pretty late Maurice," he replied.
"Did you see anyone else come in with me?"
"Nope, there is nobody here but you and me."
"Hmmmm."
He came and sat down on the couch next to me. This was odd; he had never done that before. I could see his weenis. Just then I noticed something sparkly on around his nipple.
"What is that?" I asked.
"What?"
"That right there on your nipple, it almost looks like a… a… a pasty."
"It is a pasty, I thought I took it off before I got in the shower."
I was confused. The strippers last night were wearing pasties just like that.
"You don't remember do you?" he shouted, sounding angrier than I had ever heard him.
"Remember what?" I shouted back.
"I knew you wouldn't, I had to wait until you came home drunk before you'd let me pack your fudge."
What is he talking about?
"I've wanted you for so long, Maurice. You never realized it, did you? You never figured it out! I paid my half-sister to stalk you. I needed to know where you were. Plus if you got too upset, maybe you'd come to me for support. I love Maurice. And I loved you on my own. But last night, I followed you to the strip club. That was when I realized, you were gay. So I shot a stripper named Lorenzo and stole his pasties and skates. It was me you went home with last night. And damn it you toss some amazing salad."

I just sat there, next to him on the couch. Staring at him. Before I could even think about what I was going to say I had already started to say it.

"Why didn't you tell me, Kip? I only moved in with you to get closer to you. But your damn sister took up so much of my time, I could barley concentrate on our relationship. I even bought a Native American porn magazine last night hoping that one of those hot naked Indians would remind me of you. I love you. And since I don't remember giving you head last night, I'll give you an encore."

THE END?

[Ed. note: Dear god, please let this be the end.]