The curse of the angry hairpiece

My prior mention of Donald Trump reminded me of Father McKinney. That man had the worst toupee I have ever seen. It was like a muskrat had decided to winter on his head – tail, teeth and all.

When we were at camp – this is of course back during the Harding administration – we used to sneak up and peer in his window when he masturbated.

Little Janice Thomson used to be able to throw her voice, because her father used to be in a traveling carnival, and he taught her one winter when he was out of work.

He used to take off the toupee and set it on top of the wardrobe before he got down to business. Then just when he got started, Janice would make that toupee rant and rave about his iniquity. It used to shout at him for “wrestling with his tummy todger”, and every time he would get up, put the toupee carefully inside the wardrobe under some shirts and then finish himself off.

Even then, she was able to make it sound like there was a muffled and outraged squeaking coming from the wardrobe.

The police took the toupee away from Father McKinney after he did what he did to Sarah Powell and he got sent to jail.

It’s a pity, because I rather like the idea of the toupee sitting on the top bunk in his prison cell and looking down disapprovingly at him while he got rogered silly by his cellmate.

Happy days.

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One Comment on “The curse of the angry hairpiece”

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