Title: That's All, Folks
Author/pseudonym: Tinnean
Fandom: Looney Tunes
Pairing: Injun Joe/Sloppy Moe, Injun Joe/Porky Pig
implied
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: They belong to Warner Bros. I wouldn't
dream of claiming credit for such cleverness.
Status: new/complete
Date: 6/02
Series/Sequel: no
Summary: Just what is that secret about Injun Joe?
Warnings: m/m, m/p (man/pig) implied. Didn't I
already mention this?
Notes: This is based on the 1945 cartoon, Wagon Heels, and I have to thank someone on the Looney Tunes message board for this information. The Cartoon Network refuses to air this cartoon because it is considered politically incorrect. And as an added surprise, several cameo appearances! This is for Page on her birthday, but only because the real story is taking forever to write. L Thanks to Gail for not thinking I'm beyond the pale for coming up with this story idea, and for actually beta'ing it! You know what Harry always says. J
That's All Folks
Part 1/1
The little pink pig was rocking back and forth in his
saddle. "Ci-ca-ci-ca come on, and hear. C-c-c-come on and he-ha-he-ha hear.
Alexander's rag t-t-t-time band."
His donkey trotted along happily, his neat hooves beating a
syncopated rhythm on the hard desert floor. The wooden frame that was fastened
to his back was loaded sky high with camping gear and mining equipment. Porky
was going to make his fortune in them thar hills!
All of a sudden a *huge* Indian appeared before them. The
donkey's ears became erect, and for a moment Joe was distracted, mesmerized by
the long appendages. His distraction lasted long enough for Porky Pig to get
away.
Injun Joe's shoulders slumped, and he was about to turn and
walk away, dragging his big tomahawk, (you know what they say about men with big
tomahawks) when a dirty, scruffy, crazy mountain man with *big* feet leaped out
of the rocks. "I know something you don't know, you don't know, you don't
know. I know something you don't know, but I ain't tellin'!"
And then he ran off.
Injun Joe faded back into the foothills (which really
hadn't been taken good care of; they were covered with bunions!) and went back
to tracking the pink pig. Each time he was about to grab him, Sloppy Moe, the
little mountain man, would pop up. "I know something you don't know, you
don't know, you don't know!" he would chant in a sing-song voice. "I
know something you don't know, but I ain't tellin'!"
Finally, Joe cornered Porky Pig in a blind canyon. The
little donkey cowered behind the pig, who shivered and trembled and pulled the
tail of his coonskin cap over his eyes so he wouldn't see the tomahawk when it
swung down to bean him on his
little pink head.
And then out burst Sloppy Moe, dancing around Injun Joe.
"I know something you don't know, you don't know, you don't know. I know
something you don’t know…"
Before he could finish his taunting song, Injun Joe grabbed
him around the neck and held the skinny mountain man up so he could stare in his
eyes. "All right, you. What you know?" And he shook him.
Sloppy Moe looked shy. And then he looked crafty. And then
he looked aroused. "Well… you see… It's just that… Injun Joe…"
He wiggled the toes of his big feet. (You know what they say about men with big
feet.)
"What? What?" the Indian demanded irritably.
"Injun Joe… is… a bottom!"
Porky looked intrigued. Injun Joe looked aghast that his
secret was out. He dropped Sloppy Moe, but before Joe could deny his
allegations, (if, indeed, that was his intention) the mountain man and Porky
stripped off his breech cloth and flipped him onto his stomach. Porky waited politely while the
mountain man took out his cock (and in his case, it was true what they said
about *little* men with *big* feet,
just in case you were wondering), and slid it into the bigger man. With deep,
slow strokes, Sloppy Moe began fucking him.
Injun Joe, his vocabulary reduced to monosyllables, raised
his hips to accept the thrusts. "More! Yes! More! Fuck! More! More!
More!" He grunted in pleasure each time the other man slammed into his
prostate.
Porky's own cock had emerged from its dusky pink sheath,
and he stroked it leisurely while he watched the two men screwing.
Someone tapped on Porky Pig's shoulder, and he glanced over
it to see who wanted him. Behind him was a grey bunny who was nibbling on a big
carrot. (You know what they say… never mind.) "Ehh, what's up, doc?"
Porky's eyes grew huge. Creeping up on the bunny was a
little man with a big hunting hat on his head, a bigger shotgun in his hand, and
an even bigger erection tenting his trousers. "I am, *wabbit*!" He
tossed aside his gun, unzipped his trousers and jumped on the startled Bugs
before the rabbit could do more than gulp at the size of Elmer Fudd's cock.
"Gonna fuck you into next week, wabbit!" He grabbed Bugs' hips, drove
his dick into the little pink hole exposed by the fluffy, white tail and suited
action to words. His hips pistoning wildly, Elmer Fudd tossed a polite,
"Thank you," over his shoulder to the black duck who was watching the
proceedings with interest.
Daffy Duck smiled evilly. "I told you it was rabbit
season!
~End~
