The act of shoving a Cheeto up the male urethra.
NOTE: A Cheddar Worst is a Cheddar Wurst performed with a Puffy Cheeto.
Caleb sashayed into the third-floor West Loop loft he shared with his longtime lover, Delmonico. "Hey girl," Caleb called out in a Truman Capote sing-song, "I got fresh arugula at Whole Foods - I think it should create an interesting flavor contrast with the Pecan-encrusted mahi mahi and that gorgeous Chilean pinot you found."
When he didn't receive a response, Caleb dropped the grocery bag and wiped his smooth pink hand on his ass-hugging Rock & Republic jeans.
As Caleb trotted into the boudoir, he gasped upon seeing Delmonico spread out in a pose completely different from the stance he took when he wanted to be penetrated anally. An empty bottle of Don Julio tequila glistened in the track lightening like the diamond that Caleb someday hoped to wear at his dream wedding once the oppressive laws regulating gay marriage were repealed.
"Delmonico, you're drunk! What the fuck, princess; it's 6 p.m.!"
Delmonico groaned in the same way that he did when he shot a steaming load of fresh come all over Caleb's face, neck, and hair.
"I'm shorry," Delmonico said, his faggot lisp exaggerated by the effects of nearly half a bottle of top shelf tequila, "I pisshed my pantaloons."
Caleb looked down and saw that Delmonico had indeed urinated all over his bulge-enhancing Roberto Cavalli jeans.
"Delmonico," Caleb whispered, his large queer eyes brimming with tears, "what's happened to you?"
"I'm sho shorry," Delmonico slurred, "I just can't deal wish the stress of thesh law shkool finalsh."
Caleb ignored the erection growing in his pants caused by Delmonico's loud expulsion of gas due to the effects of alcohol on his already weakened pyloric sphincter.
"I have a Xanax prescription, silly goose!" Caleb yelled in a way that was masculine for him, "why didn't you just take one of those and get some sleep!"
"I just lost it - I'm sho stresshed out," Delmonico pouted, "I need to get it togesher."
"Desperate times call for desperate measures, you naughty little rump ranger," Caleb stated with a "you go girl" affectation, "How would you like a cheddar wurst for dinner?"
Delmonico could not hide his confusion as Caleb strutted back out to the kitchen. Once there, Caleb grabbed a bag of Cheetos that his white trash sister Dakota had left behind during one of her rare visits from Rockford. The Cheetos had not spoiled due to the 47 different types of preservatives present in the delectable snack food.
Caleb open the bag and extracted a particularly long and jagged Cheeto. He then swaddled back to the bedroom with a big homo grin on his botox-smoothed face.
"Let's get you out of those wet knickers, you pole-smoking queer," Caleb sneered, "Maybe this will teach you deal with your stress in a healthy way!"
Caleb proceeded to work the larger-than-average Cheeto up Delmonico's pee-hole. As Delmonico screamed, Caleb knew that Delmonico had both sobered up and learned a valuable lesson about healthy stress-management.
"I changed my mind," Caleb said in a raspy whisper full of promise," Let's have mac and cheese tonight - the Cheeto will make your jizm as orange as the day is long and provide the perfect color to counterbalance the arugula salad."