We Get The Message
The thought disgusts The Mayor.
And she looks like the type that would first mentally undress The Mayor with her eyes; staring at his V-shaped chest, python arms, and large cannonball-like lump in his dungarees. From there, she would slowly undress The Mayor with her teeth – The Mayor would scream, but the little vixen would shove a ball-gag in his mouth, as well as her tongue and three different fruits and vegetables. After the clothes come off, she would undoubtedly pound The Mayor like he’s never been pounded before. She would be relentless, pounding and pounding and pounding and pounding, only taking a rest long enough to catch the final 5 minutes of Hogan’s Heroes (great show, Hooooogaaaaaan!!!!). After the pounding ends (three full minutes), she would spit brown sugar in The Mayor’s face and kick him in the scrotum, and then walk away humming Bette Midler show-tunes while chewing on bbq flavoured beef jerky.
Oh, the horrors!