The Shitter at the End of the Universe
Spike looks on in half shock, half annoyance, half stupor, and defying mathematics in the process, but that's nothing compared to Jet shifting reality paradigms there. Now you see his shirt, now you don't; now the world goes mad and anarchy reigns and entropy engulfs the universe, now it doesn't. As the very nature of the universe slips and perverts around this room, Spike's bladder somehow empties, very likely right into some transdimensional being-of-pure-energy's morning coffee. You ever wonder why these higher beings are constantly trying to take out the Enterprise in every other episode of Star Trek? You try taking a face full of piss every time reality hiccups and see how much you like these punks joyriding around space and flagrantly disregarding the principals relativity. It doesn't do much to explain why every apesuited guy in the galaxy wants to rip Kirk's shirt, but it makes a heck of a lot more sense than the reasoning behind Voyager going on for more than one episode.

Still drunk, Spike decides that he needs a little action too, but the whole bending of reality thing in that sexy water closet is a bit too weird for his pecker. After all, he's got a pretty good buzz going and doesn't want to blow it in the ephemerality of some time-space rift. So he has three options: He could burn out on the couch and beat off to reruns of The Facts of Life 2050, or he could smear some peanut butter on his prick and call Ein over to lick it off. Both are, I'm sure, appealing, but there's only so many times you can jerk off to resurrected zombie Blair without the (still chunky) cyber-Natalie ruining it for you. And besides which, they're all out of peanut butter. Then there's the third option: Force yourself on the little girl and have awful, drunken, slobbery intercourse with her. Well, I mean, there is a fourth option, and that is to shoot oneself out the airlock, but neither in the show nor in the awful doujinshi springing from the show has the crew of the Bebop ever been particularly good at cutting their losses.

Making this whole concept more repulsive is something of a perversely admirable feat, and Kouta succeeds. At least in previous exercises, Spike was partially sober. In this case, you almost can't blame Spike for wanting to get his hands on some of that lanky, boyish sweet stuff; his blood alcohol appears to be soaring into exponents, and anyone drowning in that much liquor turns into a slash fan of the worst kind. I mean, who here hasn't wound up in another man's arms after a few too many shots? I mean, uh, speaking from a strictly speculative standpoint, yeah. I'm a good boy, I wouldn't drink that much so I totally wouldn't know what it's like to wind up on someone's fold-out bed, head splitting, encrusted vomit from the night before to the left and a naked, drooling mustachioed mediterranean fellow snoring loudly on your right. So, all WILD SPECULATION aside, it's logical. But terrible. Spike's already feeling some trepidation before the act as well, after all, he is still human despite what certain character assassinating authors would have you believe. So, to seal the deal, it's time for another drink. The question remains as to how he's able to get it up - Whiskeydick, y'know - but I'm through worrying about logic in this goddamned thing. The real question should really be why anyone would want to pencil something like this. Is this just some kind of massive, national bet as to see who can creep out the westerners the most? It's hard to compete with 'Uzigaman, but Kouta's making a pretty good showing in my books. Go for the gold, you horrible cock!

What is a mouth for some is a toilet for another.
And Spike's off to the races, with all the raw sexuality of a wino bombed on store brand cough syrup. Attacking Ed with a play that would make John Belushi urge Spike to ease off the drinky-drinky a little, he proceeds to grab her and drool all over her face while barely maintaining consciousness. Did I say drool? It could be vomit as well, but in the case it isn't, I don't want to give anyone ideas about a sequel to this doujinshi, “Hangover Toilet - The Adventure Begins” starring Radical Edward in the titule role.

Sexiest thing since Ren X Stimpy slash fiction.
There are a few more grossout spittle-drenched scenes of 'foreplay' here, including the standard “long string of saliva after a deep kiss” thing, which is admittedly pretty hot when hot girls are going at it. The sexiness is kind of limited though when it's drunk uncle Spike taking his barroom rejection angst out on Ed here. I haven't been so righteously hot and bothered since that one Beavis and Butthead where they hocked loogies off the top of a building. I'm sure there's some spit fetishist out there who is getting all primed up on this shit, but come on, my sex drive is pretty busted here, and I'm just not getting how sex could become so passe that we're wearing long trenchcoats and sunglasses into the Jackass movie and getting our Paul Reubens on. I guess I'm just a “square” though, as I can't seem to get through a pornographic thumbnail listing without running face first into a cache of mature / plumper / pregger / whatever the people who don't seem to understand that you don't have to drop your standards for porn are beating off to these days. It's my sincere hope that it's just a cruel sales tactic by the manufacturers of HERBAL V1AGRA MAKE YOUR DICK 60' LONGER scams to turn us all impotent, but that cynical bastard leprechaun in my head tells me that I'm going to have to develop a super-oedipal complex in which I'll have to start having fantasies about grandma plopping a loaf in random guys' mouths in order to find any porn to masturbate over on the internet.

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