Blitzkrieg Bop

There's fire in his loins.
So much fire, so much passion,
burning, inflaming,
itching, dis-co-lo-ring...

He's just such a romantic.

Dating a mirror image of his younger sister.
His genes, in her jeans, and he calls her Sissy.

Never mind. Never mind!
Always a momma's boy, but sadly she never breastfed him, so he ogles at pregnant ladies in his porn and the saggy women with tattoos that come in at the back of the church.

He's fantasized of a dead body at least twice a day when he's single.
Maybe dress her up and pretend to talk to her in the bar.
Make the wasted highschool girls jealous.

But when he thinks about marriage, he's afraid of getting clipped in his sleep, so he practices how to masturbate through a chastity belt.

"Sir, are you aware that you just hit someone with your car?" Officers tell him his rights.

"I slowed down, so she's okay. It was part of the plan. Look she can walk and everything."

But still the linger of why.

"I figured if I couldn't get her on my bed, I could at least get her on my windshield."

And scene.