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Kicks sidled over to you with a cheshire cat grin. He was the local shoe-maker, with a penchant for gassiness. His status as a skunk provided him with a foul talent for flatulence, often gassing his own customers out of his already vile smelling store - but his favorite victim was, of course, Isabelle. You could already taste the depravity of his unwashed asshole as he walked toward her, tail swaying in wind "Good to see you again, Isabelle. Come trying to find a taste of my lovely poon?" He patted his ass playfully, a small green squeak protruding from his cheeks and into your nose. You immediately gagged at the scent. "Oh, don't act like you don't love it. Though that tuna and cheese sandwich I had earlier has really gone right through me! Say, you are supposed to help up out, aren't you...?" He slowly stepped closer, you finding yourself backing away as he opened his mouth again, you starting to smell the tuna on his breath. "Could you..."
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