Mrs. Jensen is confused
“Peter, are you using that reality engine again”
“What makes you say that, Mrs. Jensen?” The young man asked innocently.
“My dress!” She said, as if he didn’t know. “It was never this short! And the neckline! I’m about to fall out of it! There’s no way I would have put something like this on! You changed it, didn’t you?”
“Why on Earth would I do that, Mrs. Jensen?” He asked.
“Oh, don’t you act all innocent with me, Peter!” She said, putting her hands-on her hips and sticking out her chest defiantly as was her habit. “Everyone in the neighborhood knows you have a device that messes with reality AND that you’re a pervert! I don’t even know why I came over to your house! You probably used your reality engine thingy to trick me to coming here!”
“I just wanted to get to know you, Mrs. Jensen,” the young man. “Just have you over for a drink to be neighbourly! But I think you may have had too much. You seem very confused.”
“What are you even talking about?” She demanded. “You think I can’t handle my liquor? Cuz I can tooally handle my liquor!”
She giggled. The very idea that she couldn’t handle her liquor was preposterous. Peter might be cute but he didn’t know the first thing about her!
“It’s just, you seem confused about a lot of things, Mrs. Jensen,” he said.
“ MmmMmmMmm!” She denied, shaking her head in a way that seemed to make the whole room wobble gently. "I’m naw confused! Yer confused an confused and, like, confused!“
"I’m not the one accusing my neighbor of having a reality engine,” he pointed out.
“No, no, no, no, no!” She said shaking a scolding finger at him. "Yer naw gun get away wif gettin’ away wif that! Everybody knows ‘wash out for Pee'er an his really real realicy engine tha’ mace all the neighbor layzees have real big titties!“
"You think it’s my fault so many of the women in this neighborhood are so, um, well endowed?” He asked, incredulous.
“Yes, cuz you like big tizzies an’ girls wif big tizzies so you use yer big tizzies machine to give us big tizzies!” She accused him, punctuating it with a slug from her whiskey bottle that she could totally handle, no matter what anybody with a big tittie making reality engine might say.
“Are you saying you don’t like my big ol’ titsies tha’ you may wif yer reallaly enshun?” She asked, drizzling whiskey on the big old titties in question.
“I….I like them, yes,” he said, flustered to Mrs. Jensen’s delight. “I’m just not taking responsibility for them.”
“No yer nots!” She agreed. “I’m asponable for my own big titties an my own big titsies can totally hanl their whissey!”
“Well, yes, I’m sure you and your titties are certainly big enough to handle whiskey on your own,” he conceded to her satisfaction. “I’m just concerned that in combination with all those pills you took, you might be confused.”
“I’m… confused?” She asked her twelve foot tall neighbor with the glowing pnk eyes as he started down at her from way above.
Was he trying to look down her shirt at her big ol’ tittie? She pulled it down to be helpful.
“With all that in your system, I don’t think you know what’s real or not just now,” said the anthropomorphic bunny rabbit with the big cock. “Why don’t I tuck you in my bed and you can sleep it off.”
“Why don’t you fuck me in your bed and get me off?” She asked the well-hung bunny man.
Bunnies we’re good at fucking. She knew that for sure.
“Well, that would work too,” the bunny man agreed and picked her up to take her to his bed.
At least she was pretty sure that was what really happened. She may have been confused.