StumblingFillies

  “Meow-kiddy is zzzrunk ann wenn thiss kiddy gess zzzrunk shhe gess frisky,” your girlfriend Kira slurred, staggering in her high heal boots, fresh bottle of whiskey in her hand, As she took another drink, her big boobs fell out of her black cat suit.  “Damn Kira-were gonna be late-but ok, a quickie before we go to the costume party.” you say as she falls onto the couch.  “Perfeckt,” she purs as you pull out your dick.

  Witching hour-when the witches are drunk.

  Her Sarcophagus Queen Hathor Neferkare (Combines goddess reference with "Neferkare" meaning "beautiful soul" in Egyptian) he queen stumbles barefoot across cool marble, gold armbands chiming with each swaying step. Her crown tilts perilously as she gestures toward the obsidian sarcophagus dominating her pyramids chamber. "Thiss will be my bed fer alll timme," she slurs, wine sloshing crimson droplets onto stone. "An' I... hic ... shall shrissen it proper. Brin' wine! brin'.  giggles .  brin' thad nubian guard whoo blushes ann carries sush a big sword giggles "  Her fingers trace hieroglyphs of judgment scenes, knuckles whitening as she leans against the death-box. "Mother named me joy... but joy needs... presses cheek to cold stone ... needs weightlessness. Lift me in? I'll show you how goddesses... trails off ... how they drown stars in honey." The queen's command hangs in the air, thick with wine fumes and de...

  Elvira-My Heart’s on Fire for Elvira.  Giddy up, um-poppa-um-poppa, mow, mow Giddy up, um-poppa-um-poppa, mow, mow High-ho silver, away Elvira-her Heart’s on fire for Alcohol Giddy up, um-poppa-um-poppa, mow, mow Giddy up, um-poppa-um-poppa, mow, mow High-ho silver, sobriety away

  Criminal Underworld-Violet Sinclair Violet stirred beneath silk sheets, the unfamiliar hotel room's opulence glaring in the harsh morning light. Alone, nude, and painfully sober, she winced at the throbbing behind her temples—a cruel reminder of last night's vanished gin. Then she spotted it: Vincent’s scrawled note beside a frosty bottle of Dom Pérignon. "For my wild orchid. Don’t drown before tonight’s gala." She uncorked it with trembling hands, gulping straight from the neck as golden bubbles spilled down her bare chest.  The clawfoot tub awaited, where she drew a bath, frothing with lavender-scented bubbles. Violet sank into the steaming water, bottle still clutched like a lifeline. By the time the champagne ran dry, the room swayed pleasantly, her reflection in the gilded mirror blurring into something softer, lovelier. She emerged dripping, humming a jazz tune as she dressed—fringe dress hitting mid thigh, neckline plunging daringly low, sheer stockings whis...

 I was trying to make an AI full moon image. Thought this one looked like Jenna O, and was able to coxe a little story out of the AI. Jenna's stilettos caught on uneven cobblestones as she lurched forward, the full moon casting long shadows that seemed to dance with her unsteady gait. She cursed the cobblestone street under her breath, each syllable slurring into the next like spilled wine on parchment. "S'not my fault," she mumbled to a flickering gas lamp, its orange glow reflecting in the amber liquid sloshing inside her nearly empty bottle. The gold sequins of her micro-dress scattered light like drunken fireflies as she swayed, momentarily convinced the leaning medieval buildings were actual European facades. Reality blurred—was that gargoyle above the apothecary shop smirking at her? She took another defiant swig, the burn down her throat momentarily sharpening the world before it dissolved again into hazy impressions of wet stone and distant laughter. Her knuck...