My man jeezy chreezy, as he was being nailed to the cross, had this to say: “and in my name, go, and yiff no more” and people didnt listen to him

pudgeruffian:

A lo’ the people did assemble their fursuits and don their tails. Taking to the streets to dry hump and make the convention staff uncomfortable. And there was much rejoicing…

…for approximately 3 days.

Then, Jackity Crackity jumped out of his grave, like a poptart out the toaster. “Sike! Not dead!” He cried. “Now put down that goat!”

The people hung their furry heads, kink-shamed. They took off their ‘sona suits, closed their RP blogs, and zipped up their flies.

Then Jackalope led them to a nearby Olive Garden for what would later be known as “The Final Brunch”. There they all gathered around a table and indulged Jeebus’s Vore/Gore fetish by Role Playing that they were eating him and drinking his blood.