Torso
And thus it was spaketh that the third child of that unholy marriage wouldst grow and mature to become the lord of all that was within earshot. Henceforth, extending his mighty torso so as to create the illusion of an elongated midsection, he that was once a snub-nosed ne’er-do-well had now blossomed into a handsome yet strangely cross-eyed young man. His midriff was the envy of the village, and he would use it to charm the ladies out from their tents. The community was awash with the burbling of excited nymphettes whispering such lustful murmurs as, “My, what an abdomen! It fair makes me damp!” and “His belly button must reside in such lofty heights above his pubis that the two shall never meet!” And they would swoon and rub themselves upon the most unlikely of apparatus. (One villager spoke of a sprightly young thing that affected such a delicate and prolonged stroking of her petals upon their letterbox that no post could be delivered for three whole days!)

And so village life continued, with all the young maidens fantasising about their young lord’s torso. But it came to light one day, during the local chariot race, that all was not as it had seemed for all those months. One chariot inadvertently snagged the youthful liege’s trousers and bolted away, tearing the garment from his noble lower section. It then became apparent to everyone present that his abdomen was just like that of any other man. He had simply been wearing his trousers well below his hips, thus creating the impression of a low crotch and, by default, and elongated torso. With the chant of, “Fake! Fake! Trouserfake! Fake! Fake! Trouserfake!” ringing in his devious, papery ears, he was beaten all the way out of the settlement by his once loyal subjects and, stripped of his title, was forced to live in the woods, scraping together a modest diet of sparrow’s feet and wasps. He lived in that woe begotten fashion for many years until, as prophesied, Gary Coleman appeared atop a grinning white steed, whisking our hero up into his stumpy brown arms and taking him to live in his castle with Culkin, where he still resides to this very day.

I am sorry to say that it was indeed I who faked a lengthy trunk, and I paid a hefty penance for my deception. Culkin and Coleman hold no value in the length of a man’s torso (in fact, Coleman’s is the shortest I have ever seen on an adult male), and Culkin in fact seems to prefer a truncated midsection, claiming, “The closer together the cock and nipples the better, as far as this cat’s concerned!”
(stusut79, Tue 15 Jul 2008, 11:42, 6 replies)

Been a while Stu
Welcome back.
( Colonel Dracula Two manky hookers and a racist dwarf, Tue 15 Jul 2008, 11:45, closed)

Where
have you been?!
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Tue 15 Jul 2008, 11:47, closed)

ahhh
I have missed these random and bizarre trips into the mind of Stu, have a click whilst I reminisce.
( TGB checking Off Topic is still shit at, Tue 15 Jul 2008, 11:48, closed)

feels like
taking LSD reading this! clicks for "devious, papery ears"... glorious...
( rachelswipe with a fork, Tue 15 Jul 2008, 12:13, closed)

*swoons*
Kind sir, you do my doughy eyes too much pleasure to see you literary creations across these fair pages once again.
(Potty Jag har smör i min rumpspringa, Tue 15 Jul 2008, 12:36, closed)

Where
have you been?

Missed ya

*b3tanhug*
( ogwen69 has returned from Reddit, Tue 15 Jul 2008, 13:48, closed)