There once was a man from Nantucket. He liked to stick his dick in old puppets and jack off while performing his own version of shadow play.

The children in the neighborhood loved watching the magical fountain explode; it made them laugh. One child, Helen, became especially intrigued by his performance. She began bringing more and more friends to the performances.

As the crowds grew, word of the show spread, and an agent contacted the man for his puppets. Within a few weeks, the puppet-master rose to fame, and ascended in the media as a rich and amusing tradition of puppetry. “Hi guys, my name’s Rob and I’m happy to be here. My favorite animal is dogs, and my friends are here,” said the puppet as he cried due to his increasing fame and, therefore, increasing pressure. And at that moment, the audience simultaneously both orgasmed and charged the stage, in hopes of ripping the puppets to shreds.

Sadly, the wild claws of the crowd missed the puppet and got his penis instead, so poor Mrs. Herbert was left holding a bloody, still ejaculating dick.

Semen and other ejaculatory fluids were just everywhere.

The moment was immortalized in American cinema in the classic docudrama “Shrek 2: Still Shrekkin’, Bitch.” The film was a record box office flop, with critics commenting, “that movie was so bad, it made me wish I was that puppeteer’s shredded cock.”

They made two additional sequels. Each one was worse than the last, although none of them could compare in ridiculousness to the orgies that took place in the theater.

The puppeteer was distressed at how his already jizz-filled craft had been even more bastardized. Nevertheless, he began mopping up the cum and blood, which had begun mixing with his tears. He then took the mixture of all of these extraordinary elements, and poured them into a nice, fruity drink. He smacked his lips as he took a sip, allowing the fetid mixture of human excretion to create a sweet melody on his taste buds.

Ah, Mondays!