Britney Spears is suing bastion of journalism US Weekly for their claim that she and husband Kevin Federline made a sex tape many months ago and are worried about it being leaked now.
And yes, that article is from MTV. That's the only place I get my news from. I can't watch or read regular news without knowing that Good Charlotte is just one click away.
Now, while Britney Spears claims that there is no sex tape, hence that story couldn't be true, I have a feeling it is true, and this is how it might have been.
INT. BEDROOM - DAY
KEVIN turns on the video camera and backs away, framing the bed in the shot. They don't own a tripod, so it rests on a pile of dirty clothes. BRITNEY lays on the bed naked holding a bag of beef jerky.
She hands the bag to Kevin as he sits next to her. He picks up a Big Gulp from the nightstand and takes a sip.
You ready to fuck, bitch?
Shaa. Don't say it like that.
Sorry. You ready to fuck, Sweetheart?
Their poodle, HARLEY, enters, jumps up on the bed and starts licking at Britney's vagina. She doesn't stop it.
No it isn't. It keeps it clean.
Keeps it clean? How often do you
let Harley lick your pussy?
You make it sound gross. It's not
sexual. It's nurturing. You know,
like when a girl's dad rubs her tits
to help her to go sleep at night
because she's nervous about her Mickey
Mouse Club audition the next day.
I see what you're saying. You're so
Harley starts coughing.
Plus, a dog's mouth is, like, a hundred
times cleaner than a human's.
Harley throws up on her vagina. Kevin throws the dog off the bed and into the wall.
God dammit. Now I know where my last
three cigarettes went.
Kevin pulls off his doo rag, wipes the vomit away, and throws it toward the camera.
While we let that dry, why don't you
get to work over here.
He motions toward his dick. She leans forward and timidly licks it as though she's testing a 9-volt battery.
Oh my God, y'all. It tastes so good.
What did you do?
I know that sometimes you say it tastes
like the inside of a spittoon, so I
added a little flavor.
She's really getting into it.
What did you add? It's delicious.
Your favorite. It's Mad Dog 20/20 mixed
with strawberry soda.
She finally tires of it, sits up, and burps. She's rubbing her jaw.
Okay, it's your turn.
She lays on her back and opens her legs.
Can't I skip it this time? Just this
No way. Ten-second rule.
Yeah. The barf was on my pussy for
less than ten seconds. That means that
it's like it wasn't there at all. It's
See? Some people say that I married
you for your money. But I really
married you because you're so damn smart.
You're like Einstein if he was a girl
with dried dog puke on his snatch.
Kevin starts to go down on her. She farts. He quickly pulls his face away.
Aww, come on. I felt the wind from that
hit the roof of my mouth.
Sorry, y'all. It was your beef jerky.
I'm kidding. You know I love it when
you do that.
He gets back to work on her. She starts rubbing her tits.
Daddy, I'm so nervous about the audition
tomorrow. So many other kids will be
there. What if I mess up?
Kevin interrupts her mumbling. He sits up and spits into his hand.
What is it? A hair? I haven't shaved
for a while because I didn't want to
open up the scabs.
No. Some tobacco from Harley. And what
looks like a doubloon. Can't we just
fuck? I need to get to the recording
studio soon so I can lay down some more
of my dope rhizz-ymes.
Fine. You're lucky that it makes my
pussy all slippery when you talk like
She rubs her vagina and smells her fingers.
Wait. That's the dog puke. But,
The two have sex, missionary-style.
Oh yeah. Oh yeah.
It smells like a liquor store in here.
Britney gets louder.
I'm getting close.
He punches her in the face over and over again as hard as he possibly can. She moans in ecstacy.
Now I'm about to...
Britney grabs a cigar from the nightstand and puts it out on his dick. He ejaculates into a half-empty can of Miller High Life.
I love you so much.
Kevin grabs his previously discarded doo rag from the laundry pile, shakes it, blows on it, and ties it on his head.
I gotta go, Baby. My mind is
filled with some bomb-ass beats.
Wait. We ain't finished yet.
He grabs the can of Miller High Life/ejaculate cocktail and takes a drink, holding the fluid in his mouth. He then spits it into her vagina.
That's better. How else am I
supposed to get pregnant?
The two kiss. He turns the camera off.
Merry Christmas, America.
Interesting thought of the day:
Street vendors don't like it when you grab all their pretzels, untie them, and yell, "You're free! You're free!"