An obese receptionist debuts her "O" face in front of the entire congregation as newest member of the church choir, her harmonious whale belly jiggling like an overfilled plastic kiddie pool from Walmart as she bleats her notes purposefully off kilter and out of tune. In between songs, she takes a moment to turn around and slap the anorexic girl with low self-esteem standing behind her. She slaps her so hard that she falls to the floor.
Our obese receptionist then begins passionately grinding her blubber-like body against the frail bones of this anorexic choir girl (who also happens to be a ballerina), shoving her fat tongue down the girl’s tiny throat that is too tight to scream, knowing full well that her massive buttocks will block out the entire view of this desperate little scene unfolding in the back pews of the church choir.
Our anorexic ballerina is too weak and small to fend off the obese receptionist and no one can see or hear her behind the receptionist’s immense body. When the obese receptionist is done with her the anorexic ballerina stands up unharmed and decides to dramatically throw herself onto the ground like an attention-seeking toddler throwing a tantrum, this time making sure her body occupies a space on the carpet visible to all in the church.
As the only star in her own show now she begins violently humping the carpet, which has no projectiles sticking out from it to hump, but she does her best at smashing her pubis bone into the flat surface at just the right angle to get off. This is how the two women play together since they are depressed that they don’t qualify to be Instagram models and have to join a church choir in order to show off.
Our obese receptionist starts up swaying her hips in jelly convulsions again, ignoring the anorexic girl flailing about on the choir carpet, now shifting her gut to gurgle in tune with the organ pipes and chiming bells of handmaids fair with slim plaster legs and white bouncing breasts - the other choir women who actually do qualify to be Instagram models but chose not to because they were true believers in the Lord rather than two twisted lesbian sluts willing to pull any stunt for the attention of their peers rather than the attention of the Lord... amen.
The pastor tries to hide his boner behind his stiff wooden podium as he watches the anorexic girl crying out for help on the carpet. He tells the congregation that she is possessed, and this being a Pentecostal church, he decides to use this as an opportunity to exorcise the girl of her demons and perform a public healing in front of his adoring fans and followers. The congregation heats up into the tribal roar of a Bama game or a Klan rally. Soon they begin burning the white cross behind the preacher’s podium.
Swept up in a fiery frenzy, the women begin revealing their breasts and the men start unzipping their pants. All are now speaking in tongues, in various stages of undress. Speaking, screaming, grunting, groaning, uttering, moaning their best “O” faces, putting on their best show to try to please their Lord. The pastor almost faints due to the speed at which his blood flows away from his head and towards his crotch at the sight of all those Caucasian tits a’ jigglin', legs a’ shakin', and wailing "O” faces singin’ a cacophony of sin. As his sweat slides down his piously pressed pants it mixes with cum and crosses below his belt buckle to transmogrify his phallus into a beam large enough to nail Christ upon.
Our obese receptionist's eyes widen at the sight of his brave bulge, her "O" hole now wide enough to free Jonah from her whale belly while swallowing the pastor whole, cross, cock, and all. The anorexic ballerina starts to cry, knowing that big dick pastor is not interested in nailing her bony ass to his cross-sized cock. She knows she’ll always be the third wheel in any threesome with the obese receptionist, that she is a loser, that she has no purpose in life. She reached in her purse and looked at her gun, contemplating suicide.
And then our anorexic ballerina spies some twinkie packaging peaking out from the obese receptionist's purse, the contents of the purse having spilled out onto the floor, neglected in the frenzy just like the now almost invisible anorexic ballerina. Tugging her tutu to the side with determination, our anorexic ballerina shoves a Twinkie meal up between her hungry legs, determined to get satisfaction one way or another.
Seeing this, the obese receptionist does a perfect backspin hippopotamus pirouette and squirts like a sprinkler over the choir as she spins on her toes. The pastor yells "Praise Jesus!" as he flicks his cum over the anorexic girl’s forehead, pretending it’s holy water. And all in the congregation were bitter no more, because all had become Instagram famous that day and could live off ad revenue for the rest of their lives and never have to work again. Amen.