An Old Joke Made Better

A penguin is driving through the desert when his car breaks down. Luckily for him he sees a gas station; he hikes through the stifling heat and the dusty desert air for what seems like hours until he gets there. He arrives, desperately out of his element in this dry, hot environment, and gasping for breath he asks for a mechanic.

"Well, it just so happens we repair cars here, too" said the guy at the gas station. "Let me have a look at your car. And Jesus, you're a penguin, aren't you?"

"Of course I am," gasped the penguin, knowing that if there were a merciful God in Heaven above he'd be swimming in the cold ocean right now instead of being crammed into some stupid, meaningless joke which will be told so many times that eventually it will lose all humor value so that the person being told the joke will laugh nervously at the joke-teller like they've just raped the joke-hearer's grandmother anally with a shovel and say "haha yeah, it's just ice cream."

"Then you must be incredibly hot, what with not being in Antarctica. You should get inside, grab some ice cream from the freezer. Cool down, little man."

The penguin briefly considered correcting the mechanic, pointing out that he wasn't one of the species of penguin which lives in Antarctica, but he quickly realized the futility in such an action and decided against it. People don't ever really listen anyway; once they've made up their minds there's no way of opening them back up. Besides, correcting people just pisses them off, and the penguin could definitely see himself getting stuck out here in the middle of the desert with an angry mechanic who, knowing his luck, probably had a thing for anally raping penguins.

Instead he went in to get the ice cream. As he ate it he realized that he didn't really need ice cream, that he was already in possession of a little penguin gut. His weight, as his mother might say, was becoming something of a problem. He cried a little as he realized what a pathetic, fat fuck he was, and he cried even harder when he remembered his mother getting eaten by that killer whale just a few months prior. He'd never even had a chance to say goodbye to her, and now she was being gradually squirted out of some whale's asshole like yesterday's halibut, and it was technically all his fault. Maybe if he'd visited her more, maybe he could have kept her away from the whale's feeding grounds. If only...

As he sobbed harder his belly jiggled, and this made him cry even harder because he was coming to realize that no woman penguin could ever truly love a lardass like himself and that he'd most likely die alone, trapped between some killer whale's jaws and praying for a quick, painful death which would never come. He knew his death would be slow, painful, and miserable. It was what he deserved, after all. He'd basically killed his mother; why would he deserve better?

He sloppily finished the ice cream and, wiping the tears from his eyes with a flipper, he sauntered out to the mechanic to check out the progress on the car.

"How's it looking?" the penguin asked, sniffling.

"Well, it looks like you blew a seal," the mechanic said, turning around to face the penguin and his ice cream-covered mouth.

"Oh, the car blew a seal," the penguin said. "That's not too bad."

"No, it looks like you crammed a seal's penis into your mouth and sucked it until the seal ejaculated into your mouth, at which point he pulled out and shot his load all over your lips.

"Fuck you," the penguin said, fresh tears welling up in his eyes. "Who the fuck do you think you are to judge me just because I loved Stan? He loved me, too."

"Yeah, like any penguin would ever be able to love you and that fat ass of yours," said the mechanic, turning back to the car. "Your car will be ready in an hour, you sick little fat fuck."

"Oh God," sobbed the penguin, running back into the station to kill his fresh pain with more ice cream.