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0168b — Dripping With Glistening Innuendo (Patreon)

Published:
2026-03-06 20:00:17
Imported:
2026-09
Tags:

Content

Please use the following gently-suggestive names of real-life members of the NRA Board of Directors to write a mens’ adventure story! You are encouraged to use the prose affectations of Peter H. Cropes, and post your masterpieces in the comments.

Bruce WidenerDick FairburnRobert MansellEdie FleemanD. FinderRobben LovePeter FountainPhillip JourneyKnox DixonChuck Beers Legal Department: James Handlon & Michelle Kuntz, Handlon-Kuntz LLC LayoutGrip N. DripwickCod Snitwell the last two names are fake

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Comments

Bruce Wright

These stories are going to involve bone-on- bone contact, aren’t they

Achewood

You can only read those on the NRA Patreon

Aaron J. Rushton, Writer of Words

There was a real estate agent of some apparent largesse in Conway, Arkansas, in the 80s-early 00s named Dick Longing.

Anthony Thompson

All names are fakes when you think about it bro

Zen Window

Some real MST3K "Brick Slabcheese" "Grunt Manthrust" "Big McLargehuge" energy in that list.

Julie (HiDeeHoGal)

Robert Mansell and Knox Dixon are hockey coaches who make their teams play with rifles instead of the L shaped sticks. They "bang it out" all the time and nobody cries. (Sorry I did not include any Nice Pete in the text but I am thinking about a good honest cherry pie)

blair

Beef's go-bag contains a bottle of vet-strength Klonopin, a rubber, and the 1987 edition of the CRC Handbook Of Chemistry And Physics.

Conor Nelson

*Paul Simon voice* “Hogs in the moonlight / Far away my well-lit door / Mr. Beerbelly, Beerbelly / Get this swine away from me…”

blair

Ray's has $50,000, three rubbers, and a spliff. Alas, no matches.

GruntyGinMan

Chuck Beers sighed as he pulled into the parking lot at the NRA Headquarters in so-called "Fake Virginia", the democratic stronghold of Fairfax County. It had been a day; one of his coworkers had jocularly put a "Honk Twice if you want to see a Cool gun!" bumper sticker on his Mitsubishi Outlander Hybrid, and as he trundled down 66 ceremoniously having the passenger side wheels over the lane divided, he had been the recipient of many honkings and vulgar gestures. Chuck Beers didn't even like beer. He drank cider. The pile of brown snow remained stacked high in the corner of the lot. A man walked around listlessly open carrying a MAS rifle, in a loud conversation with someone about the Belgians coming. It was still early, and squinting, Chuck realized it was Edie Fleeman, who once again was eating an omelette du'flummage out of a tupperware container like applesauce. Ignoring this he stepped into the building and noticed that security was nowhere to be found. Instead there was...syrup. Syrup on the table in the front. Syrup on the floor. Glancing up, he say driblets of syrup covering the CCTV cameras. The security guard, an gnome-like man named D. Finder who always looked as if he was one cigerette away from death, was laying on the floor. More syrup. And from the smell, it was maple. Chuck squatted, and realized the syrup was warm and it had the look as if melted butter was mixed in. Melted butter? The holes in the chest of D. Finder were gurgling syrup like a hot spring. "What..." He instinctively took out his phone, and looked down-no service? No wifi? The lights went out. A human shape appeared. Chuck cleared his Glock 23, ensuring that he was making the appropriate 17 step draw process, making bone-to-bone contact at chest level. He flicked on his Olight pistol light and pointed at the man...the man? The man brought up a FNX-45, that was the first thing he noticed. Belgian Gun. His eyes shot to the man holding it. It was no man. It was a humanoid Belgian Waffl- Chuck never completed the thought. When the police finally arrived and cleared the building, they described the scene as "horrifying, let hunger-inducing" and reminded everyone that the pancake dinner fund raiser for some cop who shot a 12 year old was that Thursday night at the Fairfax FOP building.

Achewood

Ray clearly thinks that after three rubbers' worth the relationship will be solid enough to bareback.

Achewood

We got a de Saussure up in the house?

Achewood

How many necks snapped clean off driving past that billboard

GruntyGinMan

Yeah I read "Seeing like a State" too.

Achewood

Superb! We await your substack. Did you do a find-replace on a piece that was already on your hard drive?

John Kenda

There's the famous Tom Raper car dealer

John Kenda

Grip N. Dripwick was the dockside operator who looked like he’d been assembled from spare boat parts and bad decisions. Nobody knew where he learned to run an outboard like that; some said the Coast Guard once tried to hire him, others said they tried to arrest him and he simply drove away faster than paperwork could travel. When trouble showed up at the marina it usually found Grip already there, leaning on a coil of rope with the calm expression of a man who had long ago accepted that the night was going to get strange and he was going to be the one steering.

GruntyGinMan

Honestly I thought it sucked, but thanks! It wasn't really in Nice Pete's voice. I decided to make it fairly stupid and also I don't know what Belgians eat.

Achewood

that's good! I would continue to read such paragraphs, strung together. Especially like the paperwork line.

Achewood

Fries and special mayonnaise, man.

GruntyGinMan

Then Edie Fleeman was correct to worry about them.

DKB

Handlon-Kuntz is too perfect.

Achewood

I thought it had a real “grab em by the” vibe

Charles Richter

A man that I know is Dick Fairburn. His knuckles bear the scars of many a previously scornful grimace worn by foolish boys and foolisher men who thought they might make "fun" of the name his father granted him. His mother might have complained, but we will never know, as she did not survive his emergence into this cold world Mr. Fairburn (You have not yet earned the right to refer to him as "Dick." I have, it was a hard-fought trial, and it is not a story I will relate to you at this time.) once shared with me his method and process for "Fried Sweet-breads." When Dick (I may call him this) told me he would "fry up" his latest's quarry's sweet breads, I believed him to be pulling my leg, because how could a deer, no matter how many "points" its antlers provided for its conqueror, be the source of a dough-nut? Mr. Fairburn had himself a chuckle at my confusion. For a brief moment, I considered what he would look like hanging, divested of skin and innards, as two "sides of Dick" in a walk-in cooler. But those knuckles of his came to mind (not to my face, Mr. Fairburn would not dare to raise a hand to me) and I considered his laughter the price of learning this venisonal mystery. The sweet-breads, he explained, are tender organs that may be prepared in a delightful manner by those who know. Which ones, I pressed. This question may have surprised him, being unaware of the breadth of my experiences in this world. The "thymus" and the "pancreas," he said. At this I closed my eyes and could see the map of every known or secret organ in the body, a map I know well. Without much search I located those two morsels. I already knew how to remove them from the warm embrace of the surrounding tissues. I imagined the design laid over a similar map of the deer who had given up its body for our sustenance and pleasure. There they were. The pair of organs which I now knew were called sweet-breads by men more lettered than me.

Jenn

I tried out for a VSL internship. Had to write a vile sales letter for "male enhancement" like what you see here - I'm a copywriter but the examples provided to us were sickening/racist/transphobic and we were encouraged to make illegal claims that we'd have to, with gusto, fight the legal team to keep in. Fellas, just ask your doctor for the blue pill. At least that ish actually works.

Achewood

Very nice! I like the secret map of organs, perhaps especially because I am going through some of catsaneda’s minor works at the moment. How did it feel to wield the pen of Peter?

Achewood

Fascinating! How does a male enhancement pill even begin to invoke transphobia in the typical course of relaying its fairly obvious benefits?

Achewood

Also I don’t know what a VSL is but it would seem to stand for Vile Sales Letter

Jenn

Trigger warnings abound here my gentle friends. Please forgive me. I didn't write this. Has your mechanism been concealed or smeared by any groups of people your prospect is not fond of? - i.e. Prostate drug makers have concealed the true root cause of BPH to support their massive empire... they're trying to give you the same drugs they give trannies, to make them into women. All in the name of the almighty dollar! Does your mechanism reinforce your prospect's worldview? - i.e. "It's like God's blue pill" - i.e. "These toxins trying to penetrate your brain barrier are like immigrants trying to pass through our border, causing havoc in our homeland"

Charles Richter

I'm just afraid Nice Pete knows what I've done.

Achewood

He said he was watching the whole time and he thought your shirt was “a bit colorful for a man, but perhaps he is given to theatrics”

Shawn Warren

So is the HOGS flag the Thin Pink Line?

J. Alex

I wonder what the clues for the mini crossword were.

The Good Poster

These men, forever lying just outside the warm circle of a hog-family, glimpsing their private activities through thermal goggles, the endless silence of the Oklahoma plains... how long until their yearning overwhelms them? How often must the NRA Board replace a member who has 'gone native'?

Nicholas Williams

The suburban lawns glistened as the morning sun burned off the dew. D. Finder kissed his wife tenderly on the forehead and made his way to the Camaro in the driveway, a crock-pot of chili under one arm and a foil-wrapped packet of corn muffins under the other. Down the street a ways - undetected - Bruce Widener stared through the dirty windshield of his 1995 Ford Explorer. A single tear ran down his cheek as he checked the magazine of his FN-5.7 semi-automatic pistol. The pot-latch would have to wait for Finder’s Famous Chili. The pot-latch would have to wait forever.

Jenn

Was glad not to get the internship (VSL =video sales letter)