Rubber-Like Polymer Sandwich

I buzzingly passed the load of back end occurrences upon them handsome young boys as I passed. They were jabbering giddily about the waste rumors circling around one of their friends' sisters, but these philosophy clouds fled their conversation sky once that load landed, well, thudded really, on each of their fresh young heads. A man sitting on a nearby bench began shaking the too, too dry cat meat mince-pie from his parched mouth, dancing like a psycho-semantic police officer, two minutes behind the beat.

Naturally, them handsome young boys thought it was he who had passed the load.