John Sexlington

John Sexlington is the sexiest character in The Grand Bachelorette

Equipment:
If you ask John, he'll say he needs nothing else but his red convertible that he hollowed out from a boulder that he found up on a mountain. If pressed further, he'll say it "fell off a truck", and will mumble something about a "sex bridge". Either way, he always drives with one hand on the steering wheel and one leaning out.

Skills:
John has the skill of stubble. You could cut glass on that thing, dammit. John works as a millstone. Also: Sexual healing. Literally so. He also speaks French.

Weaknesses:
John is not good with memory. He tends to do things, and then do some more things when those first things fail. He tends to flex too much, despite having average arms. He can also be stubborn and angry: Just try telling him that the American National Anthem is not the "National theme tune".

Appearance:
Average height, but the top hat takes his height up a notch (in the bedpost). He is quoted as saying "It's totally pimp", and "Bitches go wild for that shit". He then stared into space for thirty seconds- stared into space with beautiful pea-green eyes! One of his arms is green for a reason nobody is too sure of, and when quizzed on this, John merely raises and lowers his eyebrows while grunting. His hair is black, like some sort of sexual gorilla, but his stubble is a dark brown.

Personality:
John doesn't take no shit from no-one. One time, I tried to give John shit, and he straight punched me through a waitress. He them kissed the waitress [Healing her completely] and pressed the button on his keyring that turned his can into a motorcycle. He rode off into the sunset, stopping only to TAKE NO SHIT. John's favorite TV show is House, because "Fuckin'... doctors, man."

Biography:
John was raised by Lady Sexlington and Darrah Sexlington. On his fifth birthday, they left him in a field and told him "To prove yourself as a true man, you must survive the night here." When they came back, he was fully grown and surrounded by half-naked women serving him drinks. Then some things happened, possibly involving France. This was when John first learned how to shave, and also when he burned down his first barber, denouncing him as a "hellish destroyer of man parts". John travelled on, leaving a trail of sexually exhausted women and effeminate men behind him. Upon finding out about this contest, John left the room wordlessly, entered his car, drove into town, entered an opticians, bought a pair of sunglasses, left the opticians, realised his car was towed, walked to the impound lot, paid the fine, got into his car, drove back to where the person who told him about the contest was, put the sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, and pushed them up while screaming "HELL FUCKING YES!" EVERYONE AROUND HAD AN ORGASM.

Introduction:
John stood there awkwardly for several seconds, looking around. It occured to him that possibly nobody else had even had an orgasm. Out of embarrassment for them, he pocketed his sunglasses and left the room in a manner that could be considered less than sexual. He made a conscious decision to not change his pants, because he was a real man and also lazy.

Once in his car, he realised that he didn't even need to take his car- transport was provided. John's eyes grew wide with bitter shock as he realised he might be missing out on riding in a "Fuck-ass semi" or "The Playboy mansion only with wings". This quickly passed, though, as John's car had been his best friend ever since they first met. While John would love to reminisce about all the times he totally boned chicks over the hood of his car, he knew that he had to concentrate on the road. Then he started thinking about women, and the boobs that connect to them.

WHAM! The first lamppost crumpled underneath John's mighty metallic onslaught. The second lamppost flew for at least a few hundred meters before smashing through the roof of the impalings ward at the local hospital. John, not noticing, decided to speed up, because at this time he was equating going faster in his car with having sexual intercourse, for a reason even he wasn't quite sure of. The third lamppost was sturdier, and merely bent. The sudden stop of the car, followed by its sudden rapid acceleration, reminded John of, well, you know. His hand instinctively squeezed on his keyring, and he was flung straight up into the air. His car transformed swiftly into a cherry red motorcycle. John fell onto the Motorcycle, along with a cloud of (Intensly manly) vomit. Snapped back to reality, but still temporarily shocked, John squeezed on the accelerator.

John ramped off the lamppost, much like a pro skateboarder on a rocket skateboard would ramp off a lamppost. John's mind was super fucking intense now- he was not thinking about past bones, he was only thinking about the bones to come. He was like two men strapped together, only much more hetrosexual. He was like a tiger, only instead of tiger-like qualities, sex with girls. Thinking about sex, as John so often did, caused him to become angry. The motorcycle flew still, which only enraged him further. If a passer by was to look up, they would have seen an angry, yet inexplicably attractive, young man with a green arm on a motorcycle showering them with vomit. Nobody was looking up, however, as all eyes were on the towering inferno occurring in the hospital.

Several minutes later (At least three), John had gotten over his anger and changed his pants, although he maintains to this day it was just because of "Star signs, n' fung chi n' shit". Upon landing, a crater decided to occur around him. Dusting himself off, John changed his vehicle back to a car. He reached out an arm, deftly catching his hat. He was the shit. He still is the shit. I, the narrator, think it's a good idea that you understand how awesome John is. He also has a big penis. Anyway, it turned out that the edge of the crater was also exactly where the entrance to the contest was. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, John rode in.