THE HOMEWRECKING QUOKKA

I’m the Quokka Who Stole Your Wife

Sorry not sorry

G’day Gary,

It’s me, Bob, the Australian quokka who stole your wife. I wanted to send you this email to say I’m not sorry for wrecking your marriage. Ever since Priscilla slid into my DMs, sent me her thirst traps, and visited me here on Rottnest Island, I’ve known we were destined for each other.

That all happened months ago, and guess what? She just flew from the US to Australia again. She’ll be here soon to pick me up and bring me to New York, where we’ll start our new lives. Once I step foot in America, I’ll be her 90-day fiancé.

There’s no easy way to say this, Gary, but soon I’ll be living in your house, raising your children, and mating with your ex-wife.

So what if I’m a wild, hairy beast? SHE LOVES IT. Just imagine my exquisite marsupial arse in a tux on our wedding day.

Here are a few reasons why I’m better for Priscilla than you are:

I’m extremely rare, and prestigious as hell

I’m vulnerable to extinction, Gary. Do you know what happens to things that are vulnerable to extinction?

PEOPLE WANT TO COLLECT THEM.

I’m as desired as the Twinkie when it went extinct for six months in 2012.

Are you extinct, Gary? What do you do again? Oh — you’re the leading pediatric surgeon in New York, who’s working on a cure for cancer? You’re a dime a dozen. I’m on the protected animal list, you prick. And when I move to America, I’ll be the sole quokka in New York city. Do you know how prestigious that is? Priscilla’s social status will shoot up faster than Jeff Bezos’ penis rocket flying into outer space. So take that.

I’m always happy, which makes Priscilla happy

Look at me, Gary. I’m known as the happiest animal in the world. I can’t wipe this smile off my face. I literally can’t. My facial muscles are stuck this way. It’s genetic. This means that even when I have a horrendous day, I still look as ecstatic as the cast of ‘Mamma Mia’.

The good thing is that this smile plastered on my face for eternity rubs off on Priscilla. She’s always happy around me. My smile is more infectious than COVID-19 at a Trump rally.

I’m vegetarian like Priscilla

Priscilla told me you eat all the meats. That’s nasty, man. Your colon must be as backed up as LA traffic on a Monday morning.

My colon is clean as a whistle, which means I fart abundantly and without inhibition, like Rudy Giuliani at that voter fraud hearing.

But Priscilla doesn’t mind the farts, because I eat all these shrubs, leaves, and grass just like she does. Sure, I snack on the occasional snail, but overall, I’m vegetarian. Now that Priscilla is with me, there’s no need for her to visit the dreaded carcass aisle at the supermarket.

We’ll be the new king and queen of social media #BobAndPriscilla

I’m talking the Gram, Tik Tok, Twitter, and whatever Facebook’s new name is. Let’s face it — I’m PRECIOUS. All Priscilla has to do is post one picture of me and people will stalk her profile like millennials stalking avocados at a supermarket.

Just look at me, Gary. I used this cuteness to trap your ex-wife, and I will use it to break the internet.

Your dad bod cannot compete with this.

Move over Bennifer — make room for Bobilla.

I’ll build Priscilla a beautiful home

Move over Property Brothers — Bob the Builder is here! I’ve been told I deserve my own home makeover show. I have the looks, and the talent. Check out my chiseled jawline and my pimped-up crib. I built this home with my own feet. Feel free to admire these twigs, each one strategically placed to protect me from the elements. I will build a beautiful home just like this one for Priscilla.

Gary, did you build your own home? What have you done with your feet lately? Oh — saving children’s lives in the operating room? Who gives a shit.

I’ll be a WAY better dad than you

I’m a hit with all the kids who come to Rottnest Island, Gary. Your kids can’t get enough of me either. In fact, I’ve been FaceTiming with little Mikey and Sandy for months. All I have to do is cram my cheeks with nuts, contort my face like a bulldog, and do my impression of Marlon Brando in ‘The Godfather.’ That really gets them hooting with laughter.

When I get to New York, I’ll do all the things you never had time for. I’ll teach them how to drive, help them with their homework, and show them how to store fat in their tails so they can survive in case of a famine.

Priscilla and I will give each other what we want

I constantly get sand on my face and up my arse. I have to get off this island, Gary. It’s called island fever. I’m ready for the big city, and my ticket is your ex-wife. She will give me a green card, and I will give her love, prestige, and this beach body. In essence, I’ll scratch her back, and she’ll scratch mine — I occasionally get fleas.

Well, there you have it, Gary. I hope one day you’ll find the courage to accept your trifling existence as a sad, pitiful, wretched loser.

Cheerio!

Bob, the quokka who stole your wife

Read “I’m the Quokka Who Stole Your Wife Part II.”

Sianna Lani does not condone bestiality or think you should marry a quokka. For more funny stories, visit her profile here.