Written by Skoob1999

Saturday, 4 July 2009

image for Bargis Tryhol, Agent 004 - Chapter Four The Bargis Buggy In A Near Miss, BlowMe Suspected Culprit

"Why that's a mighty fine big cock you have there Bargis," said CIA Agent Bitters.
"And that's a lovely big pair of breasts you have there, Agent Bitters. If I may be so bold..."
Agent Bitters turned away from the parrot cage and popped the chicken breasts into a skillet.
"Bargis," she reminded him. "Y'all can't fight international terrorists without fried chicken in yo belly."
"I know that," Bargis snapped, wishing she'd shut the fuck up with the talking and the cooking, take her clothes off, get on the bed with legs akimbo and welcome the 'Old Warrior' aboard.
The Old Warrior had probed a few dark places, and sometimes had a mind of his own.
"May I axe you somethin'?" Agent Bitters asked.
"What is it?" Bargis snapped irritably.
"Oh it ain't much sweetie. But it seems like everybody in the Agency has a thing about Agent Charmone...Do you too?"
Agent Bitters was feeling the heat in the kitchen. She had beads of sweat on her forehead. She popped another blouse button to reveal some seriously sweat beaded cleavage - one bead of which was possibly a Morphan, from a previous existence. She brushed the back of her hand across her brow. And pouted.
Bargis gazed deep into her eyes. Moody. Soulful.
"There's only ever been you," he lied.
"So why don't we...ahem..."
"Oh for Chrissakes!" Inspector Morse spluttered from his place on the couch. "Get a grip for fucksakes! You're acting like a coupla virgins from an American Pie movie!
"
"What is your problem Inspector?" Bargis challenged, with a level stare. "Is it something to do with the fact that you don't have an anaconda in your jockeys like I have?"
"Oh Bargis!" Agent Bitters squealed. "You can be so ru-ude and sa-la-cious sometimes."
Bargis ignored the heaving breasts, (and there was much of them to ignore) the pouting lips, the sexy sweat beads of a seasoned cake baker, and looked the Inspector in the eye.
(Looking people in the eye was a Bargis speciality. It was something he was good at. After all, he had three eyes, the funny one, the one in his head opposite, and the one on the end of The Old Warrior.)
Inspector Morse frowned, nay almost growled. Like a caged animal, or the lion who starts all those old MGM pictures, which is probably long dead, though he hasn't realised it yet. Probably.
"Do you ever think about things unrelated to sex?" Inspector Morse said.
"Do you?" Bargis countered.
"I often times think about cakes," Agent Bitters tittered.
"For fucksakes!" Inspector Morse hissed. "It might have escaped your attention, but CRAP are active again, and if we're not careful we'll all go down the shitter. BlowMe is making another bid for world domination. He swears he'll milk the situation for all it's worth. Now stop acting like fuck-struck teenagers and focus on the task in hand."
Agent Bitters stared pointedly at the bulge in Bargis's crotch.
Bargis removed the funny eye, polished it on his trousers and popped it back in its socket.
"What exactly is the task in hand Inspector?" Bargis enquired with panache, safe in the knowledge that what Agent Bitters wanted in hand, and probably somewhere more intimate was the anaconda coiled in his trousers.
"We have to stop BlowMe before he sucks the life out of the planet Bargis," Inspector Morse said. "And you could make a start by going down to the underground car park and getting all the weapons of mass destruction. They need to be up here, where we can see them, and take care of them. Like Michael Jackson took care of the children."
"What? You mean we're gonna fuck the weapons?" Bargis asked, aghast.
"Of course not you gun toting fool!" Morse said. "Just go down to the parking lot and get the fuckin' weapons willya!"
"Okay," Bargis said. To many mortals this treatment would be regarded as uncivil, but as he was the possessor of the world's largest penis, he was utterly unfazed, convinced it was all just envy.
"Good," Morse said.
"I'll be going then..." Bargis said as he headed for the door.
"Good," Morse said, immediately switching his gaze to Agent Bitters' ample bosom and imagining massaging her with scented oils from the far east.
"Good..." Bargis said as slammed the hotel room door behind him.
Inspector Morse, looking at Agent Bitters, wondered how many places there could possibly be where a beautiful woman could secrete a bead of sweat? He thought of many. Too many. The dirty bastard.

CUT TO: AN ISLAND IN THE PACIFIC WHERE THE SUN NEVER SETS

BlowMe stroked his girlfriend's pussy. He loved to stroke pussies. He'd probably have given up on world domination if he could only stroke some pussy. His girlfriend liked to stroke pussies too.

"They're coming for us my dear," he said to his girlfriend. "They will try to overthrow us. They will try to undermine our global plot for cheap everything. But as long as I've got loads of guys wearing orange boiler suits who can SCUBA dive, and an underground cavern with metal catwalks, we can't lose my dear. Not even to Bargis Tryhol, the secret agent with the world's largest penis."

He was a man of hideous countenance, this BlowMe, head devoid of hair like Donald Pleasance. With a scarred face and a penchant for caressing pussy. Probably the most evil man on earth.

He continued to stroke the pussy.

"You know," his girlfriend told him. "I can read you like a particularly tacky Spoof magazine section article. You're gonna kill Bargis Tryhol before you try the global domination thing."

"Hmmmm..." BlowMe mused, deep in thought, and still stroking the pussy.

"My GOD!" his girlfriend yelled in horror. "You're gonna kill Bargis Tryhol, and then...and then...you're going to have his penis cut off and transplanted onto your own body!"

"Brilliant deduction my dear," BlowMe cackled evilly as he stroked the pussy. "By the way, have you seen the cat lately?"

CUT TO: WASHINGTON DC UNDERGROUND HOTEL PARKING LOT

Bargis had never been to Washington DC before. He quite liked it. People were polite here. The hotel had a great view of the Capitol building, which was similar to St Peter's in The Vatican City but not as impressive.

The elevator came to a halt at the underground parking level and the doors made a strange Star Trekky whooshing sound as they opened.

Bargis exited into the parking lot, thinking that he hadn't had sex for at least 25 minutes. As he approached his car and flipped the button on his key fob...

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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