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Home for imaginary friends porn

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It's Spring Break at last! I actually have time to to write and not have to worry about getting up at 4: This Home for imaginary friends porn a sort of "prequel", if you will, to "Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures", and centers around a particular event that is briefly mentioned in that story. I actually had this in mind for something like one of the Foster's "shorts", to see how Frankie would react if Wilt ordered a girlie magazine in the mail, and acted like it was no big deal.

Whether or not anyone wants to believe that there is, or could be, anything more to their relationship than "just friends", you have to admit that would be interesting to see!

OK, the disclaimer thingie: If I DID own them, the show probably would not be finishing up its run at the end of this season, but unfortunately, I don't, and it is. Just one more screw… "There, that oughta do it," Frankie Foster said out loud, to no one in particular, as she rotated the Philips screwdriver clockwise, tightening the last of the screws needed to hold the closet door hinge in place.

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Just how, or better yet, WHY, Bloo had managed to remove that door from its hinges, and how he'd lost the hinges afterwards, making it necessary for Frankie to buy new ones, remained a complete mystery to that day. As Home for imaginary friends porn was straightening herself up from replacing that last hinge, the Home for imaginary friends porn doorbell to Foster's Home For Imaginary Friend rang.

Glancing at just one of the countless clocks that her grandmother collected, Frankie realized that it was right at 12 noon, the time that the mail carrier usually arrived, so unless she missed her guess, that doorbell signaled the arrival of that day's mail.

The delivery of the mail was a daily routine that many of the home's residents looked forward to in earnest, since this often meant correspondence with now-grown creators, or potential adopters, or even just plain old junk mail that gave them some degree of happiness to read and meant that someone on the outside cared if they still breathed or not, even if it was only in the hopes of making a buck or two off them.

For Frankie, the delivery of the daily mail was a mixed blessing; she always enjoyed doling out the letters, magazines, and care packages to the Imaginary Friends, but the mail also, inevitably, meant the delivery of more bills, and nowadays, it seemed, the latter far outnumbered anything else that the mailman could bring.

Opening the door, she could see that this day's delivery was about average in terms of quantity. Smiling, she accepted the double handful of envelopes and packages from the mailman, grateful that there were no certified letters for her to sign, that might indicate that some dept or another had not been paid, or that someone was suing the home or that something was in some way, not right.

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Like most adults, Frankie had come to dread certified letters, which rarely if ever meant anything good. Turning around, she saw that several of the home's Imaginary residents were clustered around her, eagerly waiting to see if today's mail had brought anything for them.

Must be nice, thought Frankie, to only see the mail as a positive and fun thing, and not have to worry about it bringing more bills or bad news.

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I gotta get to the DOOR…" Frankie instantly recognized the high-pitched, half-whine, half-demand as belonging to none other than Blooregard Q. Kazoo, the same one who'd caused her to have to spend half the morning replacing the hinges on the coat closet door. Shouldering his way through the crowd of other Imaginary Friends, many of whom were many times his size, the two-foot tall blue blob barged up to Frankie, reaching for Home for imaginary friends porn mail she still held in her hands.

You're gonna have to wait your turn just like everyone else, that is, IF there's any mail for you in the first place! Now, go back and wait with the others, and if I see something that's got your name on it, hopefully something that's not a court summons or another bill from one of those DVD-of-the-Month clubs, I'll let you know! Bloo refused to budge. Crossing his stubby arms obstinately in front of him, he shook his head and began speaking in that patronizing tone of voice he used when he was trying to take advantage of someone; "Frankie, Frankie, Frankie,"….

Bloo looked aghast at her, his mouth dropping open like a trap door. She kept in contact with him and sent him letters Home for imaginary friends porn least once a month.

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Frankie smiled as she handed Ed the letter; it made her feel good that some creators still liked to keep in contact with their Imaginary Friends, even if they no longer could keep them at home.

Frankie continued handing out letters and parcels. I said, when and IF I see something with your name on it, I'll let you know! Frankie looked at the cover of the envelope.

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Frankie immediately thought, Grandma, knowing that her grandmother was quite fond of sewing, but a second look at the addressee shot down that assessment. A large, muscular green Imaginary Friend, with one huge eye in the center of his face, rather shyly stepped forward, quickly grasping the envelope and clutching it to his massive, t-shirt-covered barrel chest, as though to hide what was Home for imaginary friends porn the front.

Cy was still not comfortable with others knowing that he liked to sew. Frankie smiled warmly at him, and whispered, "It's cool, Cy.

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Your secret's safe with me! Exasperated, Frankie held it out of his reach. Now if you wanna pay some of these bills, you can go right ahead! Bloo looked stunned, clearly not believing her. Glancing at the remaining non-bill item in her hand, she added, "This isn't a letter anyway; it looks like it's a magazine of some sort. Now, hand it over and we can be done with this little charade…" Bloo extended his hand, expectantly. Just to be sure that the blue blob Home for imaginary friends porn actually right for a change, and the magazine or whatever it was didn't actually, in fact, belong to him, she flipped open the brown paper cover.

What Frankie saw inside the brown paper cover nearly made her eyes pop. Her jaw dropped open, and the hand Home for imaginary friends porn still held the multitude of bills automatically flew up to cover her mouth. Seeing her reaction, Bloo became that much more determined to get his hands on the magazine. Is it THAT good?

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Nearly bowled over by the force of Frankie's outburst, Bloo composed himself and brushed himself off, angrily. Once Bloo was out of sight, Frankie opened it again, to make sure she'd just seen what she thought she'd just seen. Yep, that WAS what she'd seen, alright. The title of the magazine read, Sports Illustrated: Annual Swimsuit Collector's Edition. Frankie had heard of it, of course, who hadn't?

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She'd just never actually SEEN it, and had never really had any interest in doing so. Looking at the cover, it was easy to understand why the publisher would ship it in a plain brown cover.

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To have called whatever the model on the cover was wearing a "swimsuit" would have been a REAL stretch of the imagination! In fact, it Home for imaginary friends porn have been pushing it to have even gotten by with calling it a THONG, and THAT was the ONLY thing she was wearing, aside from her outspread hands, of course, strategically covering certain upper portions of her anatomy.

Her mouth still open, Frankie turned a few pages, staring in absolute disbelief at the "come and get it" poses and beyond-skimpy whisps of fabric that someone euphamistically had labeled "swimwear".

She was so stunned, as her mind tried to grapple with the thought of WHO had ordered THIS thing, that she almost didn't hear a voice approaching, saying, 'Oh, hello, Bloo," followed soon, by "Goodbye, Bloo" as it got closer, its owner obviously having just encountered the still-irate Mr. Kazoo along the way, nor did Frankie notice the familiar sound of large sneakers squeaking on the hardwood floor as they got closer. It was not until the same voice addressed her, directly, that she paid any heed at all.

Say, What's Home for imaginary friends porn with Bloo today?

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I didn't mean to startle you; I was just askin' if you knew what Bloo's problem was. He seemed awfully cranky about somethin' when I met him in the hall just now! It took Frankie a moment to find her voice, given the circumstances. He seems to think I'm withholding his mail from him, for some stupid reason. Wilt shook his head, chuckling.

Before she could complete her response, Wilt curtly exclaimed, "Yep! I'll just take this, and be on my way, if that's OK. Frankie Home for imaginary friends porn at him as if in shock, her jaw hanging open, not unlike that poor closet Home for imaginary friends porn had been just a little while ago, before she'd replaced the missing hinges. Somehow, she managed to find her voice. Wilt looked genuinely puzzled. He glanced briefly at the magazine in question, then at Frankie, who stared at him as if he'd suddenly grown a second head or something, then back at the magazine, before answering.

Frankie arched an eyebrow rather disdainfully at him, and crossed her arms. Then he added, apparently sensing that this answer was not quite sufficient, "I'm sorry, is something wrong"? That last question catapulted Frankie into a whole new level of incredulity. This stuff is nothing more than…than…soft-core PORN! Wilt looked at the magazine in his hand, rather like a scientist staring at a newly-discovered organism and trying to figure out what Phylum it belonged to, then, to further add to Frankie's sense of disbelief, he calmly stated, "I'm sorry, Frankie, but it's NOT porn!

Frankie could feel her blood beginning to reach a boiling point. Wilt opened his mouth as if to reply, then apparently decided to Home for imaginary friends porn the Fifth, as it were, avoiding Frankie's glare.

She decided to take a different approach, managing to keep her cool, seeing that the previous attempt didn't work.

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Don't you feel bad about that? If there was one thing that Frankie REALLY hated, it was when Wilt used that slow-talking, patronizing tone that suggested that whoever he was talking to was a complete idiot, in his opinion.

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It was the same way he talked to Cheese, or Goo, and more often than not, to Bloo. It wasn't so much that tone that she hated; it was the fact that he was now using it to speak to HER.

Damn if that wasn't the same argument that most men used in defense of porn! It was just such a shock to hear those very words come from the mouth of a guy whom she'd always figured was above that sort of thing, making it difficult for Frankie to even think, let alone speak, coherently. She knew perfectly well that many Imaginary Friends were capable of the same "prurient instincts" that Home for imaginary friends porn human counterparts were.

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Wilt looked this way and that, obviously trying to avoid looking Frankie in the eye, as he tried to come up with an answer. It was obvious, despite his efforts to conceal it, that the conversation was making him uncomfortable at this point, and that he, too, was struggling to maintain his "cool". Then, as if calling upon some inner strength, he took Home for imaginary friends porn deep breath, and stared her right in the face, leaning in closer so she would not miss one word he had to say, "That's Home for imaginary friends porn, I AM an Imaginary Friend, but here's a news flash-I'm also — a - GUY!

Wilt felt a rare sensation-anger-rising to the surface like magma in the throat of a volcano. It wasn't something he often dealt with, his temper, and to the best of his recollection, he'd NEVER lost it with Frankie, but for some reason, her being upset with him over a simple magazine that could be purchased on any magazine rack in any supermarket, and her implied accusations that he didn't care about women being exploited and used by men just struck a nerve.


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