Bambi 3: The Carnage

 There once was a professional athlete named Buttinski Faceton who played sports for money. He was known to the world as The Great Bambi.
 One day while TGB was out behind his mansion practicing sports, Satan himself appeared in a poof of blue smoke.
 "Buttinskiiii," hissed Satan snakefully. "I've come to make you a deal."
 "A deal? This sounds too good to be true," mused TGB.
 "Sell me your soul and I'll-"
 "Deal!"
 "...I haven't even told you what I'm offering you."
 "What is it?"
 "I'll make you the best athlete in the world."
 "I'm already the best in the world."
 "Oh."
 "Oh."
 There was a long pause.
 "Wanna hang out?" suggested the prince of darkness.
 "Yeah, alright." 

 So they did what Satan always did on Sundays: they went to an ice-cream bar. His favourite flavour was Fluffy Bunnies and Sugar with Strawberries.

 Buttinski was deflated, like a condom that used to be full of gas but now isn't. Or like a balloon that used to be full of gas but now isn't. Or like someone's face that used to be big but then a cartoon character popped it with a pin.

 He was deflated because when Satan had asked him to hang out, he thought they'd get up to some really adrenalin-full Satanic activities. Instead, here they were, sat at an ice-cream bar like a pair of pansies.

 So Bambi began to plot ways in which he could lure Satan into evil doing.

 Just then, as though it was a sign, a group of humans entered the ice cream parlor. It was some acne-faced teenagers with skateboards. Perfect for human sacrifices.
 "Hey, Satan. I think we got flock of Bible thumpers here."
 "Eh, I'm a little tired."
 "Come onnnnnn!"
 "Okay."
 Satan snapped his fingers and a Monty Python foot came down and squished them. The other patrons rejoiced.
 "Yay," they said.
  The manager offered Satan a job. Bambi didn't want to be left out, so he applied too. Next thing they knew, they were dressed in purple aprons and dishing out moose sundays. Oh, the hilarity potential!

 Bambi had to accept that his plan had backfired. The only reasonable course of action would be to try again, and hope for a different result, thereby proving Einstein a total dickwad (the hairy bastard).

  So one day, while he was being forced to serve spotty fat people ice-cream (sometimes known as spatty fuglies), he made a second trap to lure Satan into. 

 He approached one group of ugly customers and said, pointing to an innocent bysitter-eater (kind of innocent--he once truanted from school), 'That guy said you're fat and ugly and your mom never loved you.'

'WHAAAAAAT?!' blared the group simultaneously. They took the guy down. It was the bloodiest blood-bath the ice-cream parlour had ever seen, and they were a frequent occurrence there.

 'Mwahahaha!' Bambi cried as he watched the onslaught. What a happy day. He was welling up.

Satan looked on, mortified. 'Bambi, what have you done? Where's the love? Here, smoke this, you'll feel better.'
 

 Satan handed him a miniature T Rex. TGB tried to roll it up in paper, but it was very resistant and wouldn't stay still. This kept him busy long enough to get some actual work done. There was a line of customers waiting to be fattened up.
 "Uh, yeah, I'll take a crapload of any flavor ice cream. And can you inject it right into my stomach?"
 While Satan was getting the ice cream, Bambi did some wacky stoned person things. Like mispronounce words. That's funny, right?
 "Okay," said Satan. "It's 5:00. You need to relax. Let's go for a drink."
 So Satan and the professional athlete walk into a bar and the bartender says, "What is this, some kind of joke?"
  While they drank, the strippers shook their booties like a fine bowl of jello. Bambi reached for one of them.
 "Gosh darn it!" said Satan. "You have a wife, Buttinski!"
 "I do? Well, hell, why hasn't she been introduced in this story yet? My socks really need washing."
 After several drinks, they began to get philosophical.
 "Like, what does it all mean, man? You know what I'm saying?" Bambi philosophical'd.
 "See, the different colors means racial diversity. The baby face in the sun is like God making fun of us. And the tellies in their stomachs represents... like, racial diversity and stuff."
  Just then a priest, a rabbi, and a protestant minister walked into the bar. They were carrying pitch forks and headed towards our heroes. 

 Buttinski tried to run, but his few weeks off 8 hours training a day had made him puny and pathetic. He got a stitch and had to sit down. In any case, the bartender turfed out the priest, the rabbi and the protestant minister, because he'd had enough bar-joke set ups for one day.

  'Buttinnnskiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!' shrieked a shrill, piercing, shrill, shrieking voice. Everyone whirled around to the door, even the lapdancers.

 TGB's wife was there. He hid the T Rex roach behind his back.

 Wa-wa-waaaaaa went a disembodied voice.

 She dragged Bambi out of the bar by his ear, while Satan laughed at how under the thumb he is. It also kind of turned him on, though. He wondered if they used whips and shit. He shook his head. 'Don't think those thoughts,' he told himself, 'or you'll go to hell. Oh wait, I frickin' live there anyway!' (wa-wa-waaaa).

 Once home, Bambi's wife searched his pockets and turned out the T Rex. 'And what do you call this?' 

 'Satan made me do it.'

 After she'd raped him a few times, Buttinski texted Satan begging him to come bust him out.

 'I need an adult!' he wailed.
 

 Vrrt vrrrt, vibrated Satan's phone. He opened the text message.
 "I need an afro lute!"
 Vrrt vrrt 
 "I mean adopt, ducking autocorrect"
 Vrrt vrrt 
 Satan stopped checking his messages. He was about to give a speech at the Gentleman's Club.
 "Distinguished lords and scantily clad girl serving drinks. Thank you all for coming. Your support will be instrumental in the fight to blah blah blah blah blah blah blah."
 "Hear, hear!" said some jovial old chap.
 Just then God came in and challenged Satan to a fight. But Satan chose to be the bigger man and walk away. And everyone else got back to polishing their monocles, or whatever it is stuffy old men do all day.

The end