BREAKING: Putin fanfic wins prestigious Putzliter Prize

COLUMBIA, SOUTH CAROLINA – Housewife Dolly Schill has been catapulted into the literary big leagues now that “The Spy Who Sanctioned My Melons,” an erotic supernatural fanfiction thriller starring Russian President Vladimir Putin, has won the prestigious Putzliter Prize in the category of Erotic Supernatural Fanfiction Thriller. 

According to Schill, the plot of “The Spy Who Sanctioned My Melons,” while being “postmodern and non-linear in nature,” involves a comely melon dealer named Molly who is initially sanctioned by Putin before joining forces with him to fight a group of gay, Islamofascist space demons hell-bent on enslaving earth.

Here is an excerpt from the award-winning saga, reprinted with permission from Schill:

Putin’s eyes, shining like two Soul Gems as seen by a person suffering from an acid flashback, zeroed in on Molly’s heaving cleavage. “Molly,” the Russian president said in a whisper as low as electronics prices at a strip mall on Black Friday. “Do you KNOW what I do to people who attempt to illegally smuggle their…melons into MY country?”

“But Valadimir Valadimirovich…Or however you pronounce it…What I want to say is that the melons are perfectly legal. They even have paperwork. Here.” Molly’s voice trembled like a deer that had accidentally wandered onto a golf course.

Putin chuckled as he read the paperwork on Molly’s melons. “My lovely American capitalist pig,” he growled sensuously but dangerously as he towered over her shivering 5’10” frame. “Don’t you watch the news? We passed new melon sanctions twenty minutes ago. And this means that you must be…punished.”

Molly gasped violently, her cleavage jiggling as if it were caught in an at least a 6.9 magnitude earthquake. The Russian President’s phytoplankton-like eyes couldn’t help but be drawn again to that teasing display, and he felt like a school kid who forgot his lunch money and was presently being taunted by his asshole friends waving a bunch of chicken nuggets around the cafeteria.

“Is there a…fine I can pay?” Molly whimpered in the desperate manner of a dog that needed to be let out to pee.

“Oh, there is a fine indeed,” Putin rumbled like a wide-body aircraft engine. “But it might be a bit…larger than you can handle.”

Schill counts D.H. Lawrence, Byron, “Taken by the T-Rex,” and Ayn Rand among her chief inspirations. She isn’t sure how she will spend all of her prize money yet, but is certain that “at least one trip to Golden Corral” is in the making.

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