This is Fucking Art
By: David McGhee
He paced back and
forth until he wore out the shag on the shag carpeted office floor.
Holding onto his chin, as if in deep thought, the doctor says “No!
No! No! You did it all wrong!”
His assistant, a
midget male prostitute, concurs. “You did it all the way wrong!”
He eats a weed-infused tootsie roll and his eyes go back into his
skull. “Soooo wrong.” The midget male prostitute assistant moans
as he rubs his pot belly for good luck.
The eager young
male intern shook his head side to side. His eyes, sad and with great
gray circles floating beneath betrayed a depressive determination
Surely they were mistaken? All his calculations had been correct. Or
at least so he thought.
“I'm far too
handsome for this!” The eager young male intern said as he looked
at himself in a hand held mirror. He groaned and pinched a prominent
pimple on his nose between thumb and fore finger, biting his lip to
ease the pain of his dirty, filthy, pimple popping habit. A fierce
cascade sprouted forth and blanketed the Doctor and his male midget
prostitute assistant in pimple juice from head to toe.
The midget male
prostitute assistant pulls out a hankie from his white lab coat, and
they were all clean again.
“I am far too
handsome for this!”
Next frame: Take
two.
He paced back and
forth until he wore out a gaping hole in the floor. One in which one
could spy on young men urinating in the toilet or going number two.
Yeah.
I just went there.
Child porn
mothafuckas!
*Studio audience
applauds*
The doctor had
ordered that the tests be taken again. His male midget prostitute
assistant had nodded in agreement and said, with a heavily strained
and lusty voice, “Do it again.”
The eager young
male intern let out a mournful sigh. “I am far too handsome for
this.”
Next frame: Take
two.
“What have you to
know about this situation here?” The eager young male intern, the
autistic fuck, shouted as he slapped the white and brown bitch
bulldog in the face with his bare back hand. It bit at him, but so
far it hadn't gotten a bit by him. The eager young male intern, the
autistic pee hole, laughed maniacally. “You will talk.” He said
through his gritted teeth in a broken German accent. “Ve have vays
of making you talk. Ve are good at vhat ve do. You vill talk... They
all talk.” He fastened his seat belt and made it snap loudly, like
Satan's whip. He pulled out a red card and showed it to the
belligerent policeman as the officer put on his first gimp of the
day. He immediately choked to death when his nasal passages swelled
up in reaction to his latex allergy. One which he was unaware of
before he got into the riding saddle.
The eager young
male intern rubbed his hands together. “I know vhat I vill do to
you. Puppy.” He reached out to pet the bitch bull dog but it
recoiled in fear of another straight punch to it's adorably broken
jaw. This pleased the eager young male intern. This pleased him a
great deal.
Now he was getting
somewhere.
“It is only a
matter of time before you crack.” The eager young male intern
squeaked when he said “crack” in that broken German accent. He
slapped on a rubber glove. “Puppy.”
The dog winced in
fear, but it did not speak.
The eager young
male intern, That autistic corn dog, with his right latex gloved
hand, slid his index finger up the bitch bulldog's vaginal cavity.
Since his finger is bigger than a normal dog's penis, it's easy to
say that there was some rippage. Blood dripped down his finger and
down his hand.
That bitch bull dog
shifted and tried to paw it's way out of it's unfortunate
circumstance. But it did no good. The eager young male intern just
petted the doggy, it sheilded it's swollen eyes whenever his hand
came in for the pet. It pleased him in that strange orgasmic way you
feel when you're torturing something so stupid and wrong. God had
made a mistake when he made the bull dog.
A stupid, cell
phone eating, book destroying, pill eating bitch of a mistake. They
do not belong on this side of the living. This he saw to.
He twisted his
finger and scraped at her clitoris with his long and sharp finger
nail.
Still, it would not
talk.
“Puuuuuuuuuppy.”
The eager young male intern stuck his finger up as far as he could
without horribly scarring the bitch bulldog's internal organs. Of
course if some were injured the all the better, right? Sure, it
winced, It bit, It shivered and such. But still, she would not speak.
Next frame: Take
two
“Silence!”
Yelled the judge to his corporate sponsored courtroom. “Does not
one of you tell the truth!?”
“Fuck you your
honor!” Screamed the eager young male intern, that autistic foaming
at the mouth, in a rage not witnessed since the biblical times.
“What's with all this... This... This randomness we have created!?”
One juror, a tall
bald man, stood up and ripped off his shirt, a S in large chest
covering letter tattooed on his upper body. “This ain't no fucking
piece of art!” He cried. “This is a video of you torturing a
white and brown bitch bulldog! Have you no decency?” He cried even
harder. Holding his hands to his chest. “Have you no shame?”
The eager young
male intern just shook his head. “I don't know. I'm autistic you
see...”
And the dream
melts... Into the next frame! Take two!
She was going to
crack. He knew it. Just a matter of time now.
He had placed the
bitch bulldog in the shower. His hand caressing the shower knob as he
slinked around the bathroom floor, like a snake.
“Puuuuuuuppy...”
He hissed as he turned the hot water nozzle on and over until it
would move no more. The dog tried to shield it's eyes, it tried to
seek a spot where there was no hotness to be burned into your fur
covered skin, and it kept running into the shower's stone walls. The
eager young male intern, That autistic genius, had shut the shower
door. He was sitting, leaning against the glass, massaging the metal
outlay.
“Puppy...”
But still, it would
not speak. Sure, it bit at the steam around it, as if it could tame
the fiery inferno of a device in which it's normal function was to
wash away crotch rot. Anything can be turned into a torture device.
He laughed to himself as it banged against the glass he was leaning
against. It could find no spot that the shower head hadn't already
been spraying. That bitch bull dog couldn't get away from the deathly
combination of H and two oh. Killing stupid things since the
beginning of time. Very stupid things indeed. It was trying so hard
to get out. It was cute to watch.
“Puuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuppy.”
The eager young
male intern felt spited by such the stupid bitch of a bulldog. Such
an uncaring beast. Have they no feelings?
He waited... And he
waited... Then he waited some more. But still, silence.
“Puuuuuuppy...”
Next Frame: Take
Two
“He was very
silent as a child.” His mother said from the stands. She wiped at
the corners of her eyes with a vintage Star Wars collectable cloth
napkin. “The kind of silent you just don't like. I never did. Can't
trust a silent man. And when he does starts talking, he won't fucking
shut up I'll tell ya!”
“You don't
say...” The judge yawned and looked at his watch. Surely she would
finish her speech soon. Nothing this boring was worth this much time
explaining.
Two of the jurors
had hung themselves with their own dress shirts.
“Oh, it's very
true! You see, I used to tell his shrinks that ain't nothing wrong
with the boy, just needed a good ass beaten! Just like the kind you
got when you grew up in a strong and proud southern baptist
household. The kind that would knock a few teeth out. That's the kind
of love that brings them back for more! Holy hell! Praise Jebus! But
first you got to get them addicted to your bile. You got to make them
co-dependent on your fluids.”
“You don't
say...” The judge yawned again. This time he saw that he could see
the top of that autistic fucker's mother's bust line. Her senile old
breasts was good watching. God, it was great to be judge!
“He would take
apart electronics but never put them back together.” She sneezed
into the Star Wars collectable hankie. A thousand Star Wars fans just
shat in their pants simultaneously at the sight of this atrocity.
This affront to God! Praise Jebus! I thought he was going to be an
engineer. I was so thrilled. But then he starts drawing you see. My
father was an artist, so I could see him being an artist for a
living. He practically won the 1996 Georgia Olympics' make a
billboard contest that they had run in public school art classes
around the state. But that just made him more agitated you see!”
“You don't
say...” The judge moaned as he reached down and gave the Autistic
Fuck's Mom his number. It was written on the back of a fortune cookie
fortune in invisible ink.
They had all had
Chinese for lunch you see. As if you cared for the tiny little
details like that that so many authors put into their works. Pfft!
What horse puckey! Everyone knows it's best when you go along for six
hundred and sixty six pages and you still don't know a God damned
thing! Ever hear of Lord of the Rings? Fucking Gandolf was a fucking
hobbit molester! Betcha didn't know about that one. Or the one about
how the elves were actually racist dick suckers and they feuded based
solely on race? You wanna know why? Because Tolkien never wrote about
any secret hobbit butt sex that Gandolf was enjoying on a daily
basis. This was to protect Frodo really, he had the tightest ass of
them all. Or at least so I am told.
“Oh yes. Why, he
would go to school and talk about science concepts and mathematical
theorems to all the boys and all the girls, all of whom just wanted
to fuck and be popular. Young hormones you see. It was all the rage
to have hormones rage in and out of body orifices. But not this one.
Nuh uh! He didn't get out with the girls. But, to our relief, he
didn't get out with the boys either. Sure he had a friend or two who
happened to be male. But he had a million girlfriends, all of whom he
wouldn't finger in the pussy!
“But we weren't
wise just yet. Surely he wouldn't do anything to break our fragile
little southern baptist hearts? Oh, it was magic when he got
invitations to go over to girl's houses or whenever he got asked to
the movies. We encouraged him in every way we could. Gave him
condoms. Dental damns. Diaphragms.
“Showed him hours
and hours of me anally raping his father with a baseball bat while he
was tied to a chair with clips on his eye lids to keep them open.
Ever see a Clockwork Orange? Neither have I. Fucking great book!
Singing in the rain! I'm singing in the rain! Oh what a glorious
feeling, I'm happy again! You know. So he would know what to do when
the time comes. He comes home you see...”
“You don't
say...” The judge sighs and plays with her asshole through the hole
in the witness stand seat positioned just a cock throw's away from
her face.
“and he rambles
on and on how nice she was. How beautiful she was. And how he will
never again in a million years go out with a female again. His
reason...” She licked her lips. They tasted like Pringles. The jury
was hanging on every word as one would from the end of a noose,
another juror had committed suicide. “He didn't like to be touched.
Not by anyone! It was horrible. Poor thing would become a pillar of
salt at the mere touch of a baby Jesus. And this we know. Because our
Mexican friend Pepe's baby was named Jesus. And he touched him. And
I would be a monkey's butt fucking uncle to say that my own half of
genetics turned into a pillar of salt.” A juror in a nice holiday
sweat shirt shot himself in the head with a manly hand gun. Another
juror booed, for a lack of better thing to do. “It's the truth I
tell you!” She pleaded with the studio audience.
See what I did
there?
Fucking beautiful
wasn't it?
Next Frame: Take
Two
The Doctor rubbed
his chin, deep in thought.
“You're saying it
would not speak under any circumstances?” The Doctor inquired as he
pet the autistic semen stain's new pug puppy, supplied by PETA of
course.
“No sir.” The
eager young male intern stated plainly, that autistic involuntary
liquid emission. “Finally gave up on the damned thing and put it in
the microwave.”
The doctor dropped
the pug head first on the ground and put his hands to each cheek. “I
thought you only put baby in the microwave?!”
“Nobody puts baby
in the microwave.” Says the eager young male intern, that autistic
cum stain, as he puts on some cool Ray Ban sunglasses and tugs at his
black leather biker's jacket. “Aaaaaaaye” He commands as he gave
the Doctor, and his midget male prostitute assistant the thumbs up.
Pretty sterile as far as mental patients are concerned.
The doctor waved
his hands in desperate hopes to make sense of this sentence. “Stop
being silly! This is serious!” His mouth was agape. “Way too
serious for you!” The doctor was pointing at the clown over in the
corner making baloon animals. He looked around the room and pointed
at his clown self. “Me?” He asked. “Yes you! Get out of here
you serious clown!”
The doctor turned
his attention to the eager young male intern, that autistic
pre-ejaculate fluid. “You actually mean to tell me...”
The eager young
male intern, that autistic camel toe, nodded as he came a bit closer,
rubbing his nipples as he approached.
“That you,” He
took a breath of fresh methane and continued on. “an autistic
mastermind...” He was holding a Macy's gift card. “Bedder of a
million tall, hung young men...”
The eager young
male intern, that autistic ovary mishap, nodded more as he came just
a little bit closer.
“Are telling
me...”
Another nod,
another step closer. The autistic shit was breathing heavily. “Yes.”
“That...”
“Yes?” The
eager young male intern moaned. His orgasm neurons ready to fire.
“You...”
“Oh God...”
There was crotch gold to be found if you just rubbed it hard enough.
But you have to believe. You just got to believe! You just got to
believe in the father's cock, the son's penis, and the holy scrotum!
“Actually maimed
and tortured...”
“I'm coming!”
He shouted as he stroked his college degree even faster.
“A bitch
bulldog...”
“Here it
comes!!!” The eager young male intern, that autistic cup warmer,
warned the doctor and his male midget prostitute assistant as the
tension in the room rose from the cold ground like a fog, ready to
burst.
“HOLY
SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!!”
Somewhere, somebody was having a Dr. Pepper. And this just occurred
to the autistic soda drinker... That is, as he slowly built up his
kegal muscles in orgasmic anticipation.
“and...”
But it was too
late. The eager young male intern, that autistic horn dog, had shot
nothing but blanks. There had been loud firing sounds, but no shells
were left on the floor. It was as if some mad man had come into the
diner and shot up the place with a marshmallow gun. Brains stuck to
the walls like syrup on a bare hairy nipple. The kind you like to
pour on your chest during the best parts of the Rachel Ray Show.
The doctor sighed
as he wrote something on his little doctor pad thingy, as doctor's
are prone to do.. “It's just as I figured.” He shook his head.
“Might as well be a good thing this here young man likes the cock.”
The midget male
prostitute assistant nodded in agreement. “Yes. He loves the cock.”
He added seriously. As stated before. This was no time for no clowns.
Yet they keep popping up like HIV infected cock-roaches. Cock as in
penis and roach as in the little piece of blunt you have left after
you smoked it into an infinitesimal piece of doobie. What we geometry
enthusiasts would to call a point.
The eager young
male intern shuddered in the coldness of the room. He was stark
naked. How'd that happen? Wasn't he just clothed in warm sweaters and
roomy cargo pants and boxers that had math equations on them. No. He
was naked. How crazy is this? Totally random I bet. Still not
convinced? No? Well... He was now naked in front of two grown men,
doctors in their own right, who've seen a bajillion penises before
and will probably see a bajillion more before they retire, he covered
his shame. “Oh curse thine Gods with my six to seven inches!” His
hands did not betray the genitals they covered.
The naked eager
young male intern grinned with rueful pride. A light lit in an
otherwise dark, dark world. “I...” He rubbed his nipples.
“Love...”
The doctor and his
midget male prostitute assistant nodded, stroking their baby makers.
“The...”
“Oh my God?”
The doctor shouted. “Had we succeeded in making him believe in the
lie!”
“COCK!” And the
the eager young male intern spit in his father's face.
“I'm gay Dad!”
The autistic pile of poop declared. He and his father enjoyed a
sweet, hallmarky moment involving num-chucks and a great quantity of
corn syrup. But after all was said and done, he supposed he loved the
old homophobe after all.
El oh el smiley
face..
The Doctor wrote
something down in his little doctor note thingy, as doctors tend to
do.
Next Frame: Scene
two
The autistic
bastard's lawyer had shown up early that day, ready to rumble. He
even brought his boxing gloves just in case. No... Seriously, the
dude fucking brought boxing gloves with him to court. The red kind
you see in the movies! How hardcore is that!? I'm soooo going to get
me an attorney like that, the autistic kitty cat explosion thought to
himself. I bet if they made a reality show about lawyers doing real
and staged trials as they battled it out Mad Max style, they could
make millions.
First I have to
patent this idea.
How can you patent
an idea?
Einstein would
know. He used to be a patent clerk before he fell victim to the hair
style of the times. He said he could not authorize said transaction.
Einstein then proceeded to steal my idea, and make relativity,
relatively cheap. Damn Asians can make anything cheaper than we can!
All we do is import and export art, and this ain't no fucking art!
Einstein is ashamed of you for even thinking such a thing!
Although it's weird
fucking shit when you think about it for a second. The eager young
male intern winked in the little autistic dump's direction, lest they
know that they are really two of the same man. Dissociative
personality disorder you know. Thinks he's up to fifteen different
diagnoses at one time.
The judge was
massaging the big black throbbing penis beneath his judging robe.
Really, it's better if the children didn't have to watch this filth.
They experience enough on a day by day basis already. Things like
big... Throbbing... Pug puppies.
“I object!”
Screamed the state prosecutor in a lusty rage. This broke the
autistic fuck's train of thought. How dare he... Doesn't he know that
ruining the dream of such a short young man would disturb the
blissful state he's been building around himself like a frozen pop
igloo. It's worse than being on the nod and having the bastard
doctors, with their bastard needles, give you their bastard Narcan
right up the fucking right hand vein. It's like getting your chest
caved in by a six seven master basketball player. Sticking his size
sixteens in his narrow ass. Your lungs deflate and your skin tries to
run away from you're body so it can go out and buy more junk. If it
succeeds, then it never returns to its original box.
“Object to what?”
The autistic diddle's lawyer asked, punching the air with his
hardcore boxing gloves, letting the judge know who to fave with a
wink of an eye and a piss of a penis. The judge tugged at his collar
and made an “Ee, Eee, Eeee, Eeeee.” sound.
The autistic nuts
and honey, he just sat back and smiled. “I'm far too handsome for
this!”
The jury was hung!
All of them, abnormally large penises!
“You're honor?”
The autistic fecal matter's lawyer approached the bench. “If I may,
could I be hostile to the witness?”
The judge
swallowed. Knowing what this meant. If it hadn't already then he was
sure it would. Because it did what it would if a wood chuck could
chuck wood. And this I swear.
The autistic sperm
and egg's lawyer throws a banana cream pie square in the doctor's
face (because such was the style at the time).
“The
individual...” The doctor, and when I say doctor I mean a REAL
doctor. The one wiping banana crème off his face. I'm just letting
you know this because that other doctor you saw in the video ladies
and gentleman is a phony. Just a shit on his after birth junk sick
phony. It was all just make believe to piss off the establishment.
This film... This piece of art. This piece of fucking ART! The doctor
thought proudly. He was going to be the deciding factor in this case.
He would sway the jury to the highest bidder and milk it all later
with a book deal. A best seller if I ever smelled one. “The
individual will go on and on for hours about his special interest. In
this film you have just scene. Is it art? Is it vulgar? Is it random?
Perhaps. One thing it doesn't have...” The doctor drew up his ghost
busting ray gun and zapped the autistic individual's head. It made a
clicking sound. The kind that you hear when a seizure is coming on.
All the kids have them now a days. All the rage.
“Too many CBDs in
that one...” One female juror, fat from eating the water bugs that
clung to the side of the boats, AKA: lobsters, wept at the very sight
of her husband's one inch micro penis.
The doctor focused
on the ray beam that was streaming information back from the autistic
scum's head and into his own. “I see...” The doctor said
sympathetically, all the happiness and life drained from his once
beauty model face. “He wants to say that he is sorry for all the
shit he's done over the years. The cruelty to frogs and monkeys, well
that was just icing on the carrot cake of life. I promise it was
microwaved under strict supervision of the ASPCA.
“But I digress.”
The autistic cumquat digressed. He held out his arms as if someone
should pity him so much as to fill his hands with candy. “That is
so typical of me to chicken out. That is so typical of me...”
The jurors who were
not already bored to death self strangulated themselves.
It was absolutely
riveting prime time TV!
“That I may walk
among you Gods of this hipster scene. I just want to let you know
that I turn the other cheek. After all is said and done, if you were
my friend, you'd beat me up again.
“El oh el,
Smiley face.”
The judge pounded
his gavel in orgasmic lust.
“I may have been
raised a Georgia hick...” Someone in the studio audience hissed.
Somebody was about to get hung son! “But I am the true idiot
Colorado.” The eager young male intern, This is my home. And you
shit in homes. I know I do. And sometimes shit gets around the lid's
edges and everyone fucking knows it was you who put that shit stain
there. Sure... You try to use some toilet paper to wipe it away, but
it won't go away because it's shit, and shit does shit like this and
you feel like shitty eating shit contests with three bilingual
co-eds.”
While the theatrics
went on on-stange and random psychic phenomenon that made one feel as
if there had been a disturbance in the force, the true comedy was on
the courtroom floor. After only three throws and a right from behind
to the kidneys, the state's attorney fell over and died, leaving no
one to prosecute the case. Because you see. When there ain't no one
to prosecute a case, the victim gets off Scot-free!
However if one
happened to die while on the pot, another one would grow back in its
place. This weed allegory is not only quietly brilliant, it is also
sound science. But before another state prosecutor could feed off of
the nutrients in the soil so that it could point it's hefty finger of
justice, the autistic shit's attorney sprayed Weed-Be-Gone on the
roots. And wouldn't you know it, the plant that the state
prosecuting attorney had been riding the coat tails of had failed to
grow again. Leaving a large and unfilled hole in our legal system. A
gaping hole that no one could ever fill. Nope. No one. At least not
for this story anyways.
The doctor's head
exploded into a storm of confetti that blew dicks from across the
room during the process of extracting more information from the cum
stained sock that was this autistic boy's face. As they say, you can
never have too much information, but in this case it was too much
information. How about that? Mused the judge.
Sometimes you just
had to think outside the taco...
“Case dismissed!”
The Judge shouted as he shot up from his chair and par-keyed over the
podium and onto the wooden paneled floor. With a salt shaker in one
hand and some nachos the other, he was finally a happy man. “As
long as you don't cross the street at an angle, you're on
unsupervised probation until December eighteenth at eight am in the
morning.”
The courtroom
erupted with applause and silly string was strung and the gay men did
their gay homo gay thing Over in the smoking section of the
courtroom. The spot filled with desperate housewives trying to get a
TV deal. That's where gay people go all gay and be really gay.
As for the eager
young male intern, this walking autistic mammogram, he walked down
the courthouse's staircase just outside of the front door where he
was accosted by a throng of throbbing journalists. Hard hitting news
this be, said they, despite their best efforts to get him down, he
was pretty happy with himself for once. And everyone knows that once
your happy with yourself, that's when the real trouble starts. Frowny
face.
The reporters. They
asked “Why did you do it?”
The autistic boy
bent over and let his asshole do the talking. “Because this is
fucking Art!”
The journalists and
psychiatrists scribbled feverishly on their journalist and
psychiatrist notebooks. Surely this was the news of the century! Art
so hardcore that it will flavor your coffee with half the fat of
normal bullshit!
The autistic after
birth tilted his his head and looked to the sky.
“Is this fucking
art?” He pondered. “Or am I having a stroke?”This is Fucking Art
By: David McGhee
He paced back and
forth until he wore out the shag on the shag carpeted office floor.
Holding onto his chin, as if in deep thought, the doctor says “No!
No! No! You did it all wrong!”
His assistant, a
midget male prostitute, concurs. “You did it all the way wrong!”
He eats a weed-infused tootsie roll and his eyes go back into his
skull. “Soooo wrong.” The midget male prostitute assistant moans
as he rubs his pot belly for good luck.
The eager young
male intern shook his head side to side. His eyes, sad and with great
gray circles floating beneath betrayed a depressive determination
Surely they were mistaken? All his calculations had been correct. Or
at least so he thought.
“I'm far too
handsome for this!” The eager young male intern said as he looked
at himself in a hand held mirror. He groaned and pinched a prominent
pimple on his nose between thumb and fore finger, biting his lip to
ease the pain of his dirty, filthy, pimple popping habit. A fierce
cascade sprouted forth and blanketed the Doctor and his male midget
prostitute assistant in pimple juice from head to toe.
The midget male
prostitute assistant pulls out a hankie from his white lab coat, and
they were all clean again.
“I am far too
handsome for this!”
Next frame: Take
two.
He paced back and
forth until he wore out a gaping hole in the floor. One in which one
could spy on young men urinating in the toilet or going number two.
Yeah.
I just went there.
Child porn
mothafuckas!
*Studio audience
applauds*
The doctor had
ordered that the tests be taken again. His male midget prostitute
assistant had nodded in agreement and said, with a heavily strained
and lusty voice, “Do it again.”
The eager young
male intern let out a mournful sigh. “I am far too handsome for
this.”
Next frame: Take
two.
“What have you to
know about this situation here?” The eager young male intern, the
autistic fuck, shouted as he slapped the white and brown bitch
bulldog in the face with his bare back hand. It bit at him, but so
far it hadn't gotten a bit by him. The eager young male intern, the
autistic pee hole, laughed maniacally. “You will talk.” He said
through his gritted teeth in a broken German accent. “Ve have vays
of making you talk. Ve are good at vhat ve do. You vill talk... They
all talk.” He fastened his seat belt and made it snap loudly, like
Satan's whip. He pulled out a red card and showed it to the
belligerent policeman as the officer put on his first gimp of the
day. He immediately choked to death when his nasal passages swelled
up in reaction to his latex allergy. One which he was unaware of
before he got into the riding saddle.
The eager young
male intern rubbed his hands together. “I know vhat I vill do to
you. Puppy.” He reached out to pet the bitch bull dog but it
recoiled in fear of another straight punch to it's adorably broken
jaw. This pleased the eager young male intern. This pleased him a
great deal.
Now he was getting
somewhere.
“It is only a
matter of time before you crack.” The eager young male intern
squeaked when he said “crack” in that broken German accent. He
slapped on a rubber glove. “Puppy.”
The dog winced in
fear, but it did not speak.
The eager young
male intern, That autistic corn dog, with his right latex gloved
hand, slid his index finger up the bitch bulldog's vaginal cavity.
Since his finger is bigger than a normal dog's penis, it's easy to
say that there was some rippage. Blood dripped down his finger and
down his hand.
That bitch bull dog
shifted and tried to paw it's way out of it's unfortunate
circumstance. But it did no good. The eager young male intern just
petted the doggy, it sheilded it's swollen eyes whenever his hand
came in for the pet. It pleased him in that strange orgasmic way you
feel when you're torturing something so stupid and wrong. God had
made a mistake when he made the bull dog.
A stupid, cell
phone eating, book destroying, pill eating bitch of a mistake. They
do not belong on this side of the living. This he saw to.
He twisted his
finger and scraped at her clitoris with his long and sharp finger
nail.
Still, it would not
talk.
“Puuuuuuuuuppy.”
The eager young male intern stuck his finger up as far as he could
without horribly scarring the bitch bulldog's internal organs. Of
course if some were injured the all the better, right? Sure, it
winced, It bit, It shivered and such. But still, she would not speak.
Next frame: Take
two
“Silence!”
Yelled the judge to his corporate sponsored courtroom. “Does not
one of you tell the truth!?”
“Fuck you your
honor!” Screamed the eager young male intern, that autistic foaming
at the mouth, in a rage not witnessed since the biblical times.
“What's with all this... This... This randomness we have created!?”
One juror, a tall
bald man, stood up and ripped off his shirt, a S in large chest
covering letter tattooed on his upper body. “This ain't no fucking
piece of art!” He cried. “This is a video of you torturing a
white and brown bitch bulldog! Have you no decency?” He cried even
harder. Holding his hands to his chest. “Have you no shame?”
The eager young
male intern just shook his head. “I don't know. I'm autistic you
see...”
And the dream
melts... Into the next frame! Take two!
She was going to
crack. He knew it. Just a matter of time now.
He had placed the
bitch bulldog in the shower. His hand caressing the shower knob as he
slinked around the bathroom floor, like a snake.
“Puuuuuuuppy...”
He hissed as he turned the hot water nozzle on and over until it
would move no more. The dog tried to shield it's eyes, it tried to
seek a spot where there was no hotness to be burned into your fur
covered skin, and it kept running into the shower's stone walls. The
eager young male intern, That autistic genius, had shut the shower
door. He was sitting, leaning against the glass, massaging the metal
outlay.
“Puppy...”
But still, it would
not speak. Sure, it bit at the steam around it, as if it could tame
the fiery inferno of a device in which it's normal function was to
wash away crotch rot. Anything can be turned into a torture device.
He laughed to himself as it banged against the glass he was leaning
against. It could find no spot that the shower head hadn't already
been spraying. That bitch bull dog couldn't get away from the deathly
combination of H and two oh. Killing stupid things since the
beginning of time. Very stupid things indeed. It was trying so hard
to get out. It was cute to watch.
“Puuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuppy.”
The eager young
male intern felt spited by such the stupid bitch of a bulldog. Such
an uncaring beast. Have they no feelings?
He waited... And he
waited... Then he waited some more. But still, silence.
“Puuuuuuppy...”
Next Frame: Take
Two
“He was very
silent as a child.” His mother said from the stands. She wiped at
the corners of her eyes with a vintage Star Wars collectable cloth
napkin. “The kind of silent you just don't like. I never did. Can't
trust a silent man. And when he does starts talking, he won't fucking
shut up I'll tell ya!”
“You don't
say...” The judge yawned and looked at his watch. Surely she would
finish her speech soon. Nothing this boring was worth this much time
explaining.
Two of the jurors
had hung themselves with their own dress shirts.
“Oh, it's very
true! You see, I used to tell his shrinks that ain't nothing wrong
with the boy, just needed a good ass beaten! Just like the kind you
got when you grew up in a strong and proud southern baptist
household. The kind that would knock a few teeth out. That's the kind
of love that brings them back for more! Holy hell! Praise Jebus! But
first you got to get them addicted to your bile. You got to make them
co-dependent on your fluids.”
“You don't
say...” The judge yawned again. This time he saw that he could see
the top of that autistic fucker's mother's bust line. Her senile old
breasts was good watching. God, it was great to be judge!
“He would take
apart electronics but never put them back together.” She sneezed
into the Star Wars collectable hankie. A thousand Star Wars fans just
shat in their pants simultaneously at the sight of this atrocity.
This affront to God! Praise Jebus! I thought he was going to be an
engineer. I was so thrilled. But then he starts drawing you see. My
father was an artist, so I could see him being an artist for a
living. He practically won the 1996 Georgia Olympics' make a
billboard contest that they had run in public school art classes
around the state. But that just made him more agitated you see!”
“You don't
say...” The judge moaned as he reached down and gave the Autistic
Fuck's Mom his number. It was written on the back of a fortune cookie
fortune in invisible ink.
They had all had
Chinese for lunch you see. As if you cared for the tiny little
details like that that so many authors put into their works. Pfft!
What horse puckey! Everyone knows it's best when you go along for six
hundred and sixty six pages and you still don't know a God damned
thing! Ever hear of Lord of the Rings? Fucking Gandolf was a fucking
hobbit molester! Betcha didn't know about that one. Or the one about
how the elves were actually racist dick suckers and they feuded based
solely on race? You wanna know why? Because Tolkien never wrote about
any secret hobbit butt sex that Gandolf was enjoying on a daily
basis. This was to protect Frodo really, he had the tightest ass of
them all. Or at least so I am told.
“Oh yes. Why, he
would go to school and talk about science concepts and mathematical
theorems to all the boys and all the girls, all of whom just wanted
to fuck and be popular. Young hormones you see. It was all the rage
to have hormones rage in and out of body orifices. But not this one.
Nuh uh! He didn't get out with the girls. But, to our relief, he
didn't get out with the boys either. Sure he had a friend or two who
happened to be male. But he had a million girlfriends, all of whom he
wouldn't finger in the pussy!
“But we weren't
wise just yet. Surely he wouldn't do anything to break our fragile
little southern baptist hearts? Oh, it was magic when he got
invitations to go over to girl's houses or whenever he got asked to
the movies. We encouraged him in every way we could. Gave him
condoms. Dental damns. Diaphragms.
“Showed him hours
and hours of me anally raping his father with a baseball bat while he
was tied to a chair with clips on his eye lids to keep them open.
Ever see a Clockwork Orange? Neither have I. Fucking great book!
Singing in the rain! I'm singing in the rain! Oh what a glorious
feeling, I'm happy again! You know. So he would know what to do when
the time comes. He comes home you see...”
“You don't
say...” The judge sighs and plays with her asshole through the hole
in the witness stand seat positioned just a cock throw's away from
her face.
“and he rambles
on and on how nice she was. How beautiful she was. And how he will
never again in a million years go out with a female again. His
reason...” She licked her lips. They tasted like Pringles. The jury
was hanging on every word as one would from the end of a noose,
another juror had committed suicide. “He didn't like to be touched.
Not by anyone! It was horrible. Poor thing would become a pillar of
salt at the mere touch of a baby Jesus. And this we know. Because our
Mexican friend Pepe's baby was named Jesus. And he touched him. And
I would be a monkey's butt fucking uncle to say that my own half of
genetics turned into a pillar of salt.” A juror in a nice holiday
sweat shirt shot himself in the head with a manly hand gun. Another
juror booed, for a lack of better thing to do. “It's the truth I
tell you!” She pleaded with the studio audience.
See what I did
there?
Fucking beautiful
wasn't it?
Next Frame: Take
Two
The Doctor rubbed
his chin, deep in thought.
“You're saying it
would not speak under any circumstances?” The Doctor inquired as he
pet the autistic semen stain's new pug puppy, supplied by PETA of
course.
“No sir.” The
eager young male intern stated plainly, that autistic involuntary
liquid emission. “Finally gave up on the damned thing and put it in
the microwave.”
The doctor dropped
the pug head first on the ground and put his hands to each cheek. “I
thought you only put baby in the microwave?!”
“Nobody puts baby
in the microwave.” Says the eager young male intern, that autistic
cum stain, as he puts on some cool Ray Ban sunglasses and tugs at his
black leather biker's jacket. “Aaaaaaaye” He commands as he gave
the Doctor, and his midget male prostitute assistant the thumbs up.
Pretty sterile as far as mental patients are concerned.
The doctor waved
his hands in desperate hopes to make sense of this sentence. “Stop
being silly! This is serious!” His mouth was agape. “Way too
serious for you!” The doctor was pointing at the clown over in the
corner making baloon animals. He looked around the room and pointed
at his clown self. “Me?” He asked. “Yes you! Get out of here
you serious clown!”
The doctor turned
his attention to the eager young male intern, that autistic
pre-ejaculate fluid. “You actually mean to tell me...”
The eager young
male intern, that autistic camel toe, nodded as he came a bit closer,
rubbing his nipples as he approached.
“That you,” He
took a breath of fresh methane and continued on. “an autistic
mastermind...” He was holding a Macy's gift card. “Bedder of a
million tall, hung young men...”
The eager young
male intern, that autistic ovary mishap, nodded more as he came just
a little bit closer.
“Are telling
me...”
Another nod,
another step closer. The autistic shit was breathing heavily. “Yes.”
“That...”
“Yes?” The
eager young male intern moaned. His orgasm neurons ready to fire.
“You...”
“Oh God...”
There was crotch gold to be found if you just rubbed it hard enough.
But you have to believe. You just got to believe! You just got to
believe in the father's cock, the son's penis, and the holy scrotum!
“Actually maimed
and tortured...”
“I'm coming!”
He shouted as he stroked his college degree even faster.
“A bitch
bulldog...”
“Here it
comes!!!” The eager young male intern, that autistic cup warmer,
warned the doctor and his male midget prostitute assistant as the
tension in the room rose from the cold ground like a fog, ready to
burst.
“HOLY
SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIT!!!”
Somewhere, somebody was having a Dr. Pepper. And this just occurred
to the autistic soda drinker... That is, as he slowly built up his
kegal muscles in orgasmic anticipation.
“and...”
But it was too
late. The eager young male intern, that autistic horn dog, had shot
nothing but blanks. There had been loud firing sounds, but no shells
were left on the floor. It was as if some mad man had come into the
diner and shot up the place with a marshmallow gun. Brains stuck to
the walls like syrup on a bare hairy nipple. The kind you like to
pour on your chest during the best parts of the Rachel Ray Show.
The doctor sighed
as he wrote something on his little doctor pad thingy, as doctor's
are prone to do.. “It's just as I figured.” He shook his head.
“Might as well be a good thing this here young man likes the cock.”
The midget male
prostitute assistant nodded in agreement. “Yes. He loves the cock.”
He added seriously. As stated before. This was no time for no clowns.
Yet they keep popping up like HIV infected cock-roaches. Cock as in
penis and roach as in the little piece of blunt you have left after
you smoked it into an infinitesimal piece of doobie. What we geometry
enthusiasts would to call a point.
The eager young
male intern shuddered in the coldness of the room. He was stark
naked. How'd that happen? Wasn't he just clothed in warm sweaters and
roomy cargo pants and boxers that had math equations on them. No. He
was naked. How crazy is this? Totally random I bet. Still not
convinced? No? Well... He was now naked in front of two grown men,
doctors in their own right, who've seen a bajillion penises before
and will probably see a bajillion more before they retire, he covered
his shame. “Oh curse thine Gods with my six to seven inches!” His
hands did not betray the genitals they covered.
The naked eager
young male intern grinned with rueful pride. A light lit in an
otherwise dark, dark world. “I...” He rubbed his nipples.
“Love...”
The doctor and his
midget male prostitute assistant nodded, stroking their baby makers.
“The...”
“Oh my God?”
The doctor shouted. “Had we succeeded in making him believe in the
lie!”
“COCK!” And the
the eager young male intern spit in his father's face.
“I'm gay Dad!”
The autistic pile of poop declared. He and his father enjoyed a
sweet, hallmarky moment involving num-chucks and a great quantity of
corn syrup. But after all was said and done, he supposed he loved the
old homophobe after all.
El oh el smiley
face..
The Doctor wrote
something down in his little doctor note thingy, as doctors tend to
do.
Next Frame: Scene
two
The autistic
bastard's lawyer had shown up early that day, ready to rumble. He
even brought his boxing gloves just in case. No... Seriously, the
dude fucking brought boxing gloves with him to court. The red kind
you see in the movies! How hardcore is that!? I'm soooo going to get
me an attorney like that, the autistic kitty cat explosion thought to
himself. I bet if they made a reality show about lawyers doing real
and staged trials as they battled it out Mad Max style, they could
make millions.
First I have to
patent this idea.
How can you patent
an idea?
Einstein would
know. He used to be a patent clerk before he fell victim to the hair
style of the times. He said he could not authorize said transaction.
Einstein then proceeded to steal my idea, and make relativity,
relatively cheap. Damn Asians can make anything cheaper than we can!
All we do is import and export art, and this ain't no fucking art!
Einstein is ashamed of you for even thinking such a thing!
Although it's weird
fucking shit when you think about it for a second. The eager young
male intern winked in the little autistic dump's direction, lest they
know that they are really two of the same man. Dissociative
personality disorder you know. Thinks he's up to fifteen different
diagnoses at one time.
The judge was
massaging the big black throbbing penis beneath his judging robe.
Really, it's better if the children didn't have to watch this filth.
They experience enough on a day by day basis already. Things like
big... Throbbing... Pug puppies.
“I object!”
Screamed the state prosecutor in a lusty rage. This broke the
autistic fuck's train of thought. How dare he... Doesn't he know that
ruining the dream of such a short young man would disturb the
blissful state he's been building around himself like a frozen pop
igloo. It's worse than being on the nod and having the bastard
doctors, with their bastard needles, give you their bastard Narcan
right up the fucking right hand vein. It's like getting your chest
caved in by a six seven master basketball player. Sticking his size
sixteens in his narrow ass. Your lungs deflate and your skin tries to
run away from you're body so it can go out and buy more junk. If it
succeeds, then it never returns to its original box.
“Object to what?”
The autistic diddle's lawyer asked, punching the air with his
hardcore boxing gloves, letting the judge know who to fave with a
wink of an eye and a piss of a penis. The judge tugged at his collar
and made an “Ee, Eee, Eeee, Eeeee.” sound.
The autistic nuts
and honey, he just sat back and smiled. “I'm far too handsome for
this!”
The jury was hung!
All of them, abnormally large penises!
“You're honor?”
The autistic fecal matter's lawyer approached the bench. “If I may,
could I be hostile to the witness?”
The judge
swallowed. Knowing what this meant. If it hadn't already then he was
sure it would. Because it did what it would if a wood chuck could
chuck wood. And this I swear.
The autistic sperm
and egg's lawyer throws a banana cream pie square in the doctor's
face (because such was the style at the time).
“The
individual...” The doctor, and when I say doctor I mean a REAL
doctor. The one wiping banana crème off his face. I'm just letting
you know this because that other doctor you saw in the video ladies
and gentleman is a phony. Just a shit on his after birth junk sick
phony. It was all just make believe to piss off the establishment.
This film... This piece of art. This piece of fucking ART! The doctor
thought proudly. He was going to be the deciding factor in this case.
He would sway the jury to the highest bidder and milk it all later
with a book deal. A best seller if I ever smelled one. “The
individual will go on and on for hours about his special interest. In
this film you have just scene. Is it art? Is it vulgar? Is it random?
Perhaps. One thing it doesn't have...” The doctor drew up his ghost
busting ray gun and zapped the autistic individual's head. It made a
clicking sound. The kind that you hear when a seizure is coming on.
All the kids have them now a days. All the rage.
“Too many CBDs in
that one...” One female juror, fat from eating the water bugs that
clung to the side of the boats, AKA: lobsters, wept at the very sight
of her husband's one inch micro penis.
The doctor focused
on the ray beam that was streaming information back from the autistic
scum's head and into his own. “I see...” The doctor said
sympathetically, all the happiness and life drained from his once
beauty model face. “He wants to say that he is sorry for all the
shit he's done over the years. The cruelty to frogs and monkeys, well
that was just icing on the carrot cake of life. I promise it was
microwaved under strict supervision of the ASPCA.
“But I digress.”
The autistic cumquat digressed. He held out his arms as if someone
should pity him so much as to fill his hands with candy. “That is
so typical of me to chicken out. That is so typical of me...”
The jurors who were
not already bored to death self strangulated themselves.
It was absolutely
riveting prime time TV!
“That I may walk
among you Gods of this hipster scene. I just want to let you know
that I turn the other cheek. After all is said and done, if you were
my friend, you'd beat me up again.
“El oh el,
Smiley face.”
The judge pounded
his gavel in orgasmic lust.
“I may have been
raised a Georgia hick...” Someone in the studio audience hissed.
Somebody was about to get hung son! “But I am the true idiot
Colorado.” The eager young male intern, This is my home. And you
shit in homes. I know I do. And sometimes shit gets around the lid's
edges and everyone fucking knows it was you who put that shit stain
there. Sure... You try to use some toilet paper to wipe it away, but
it won't go away because it's shit, and shit does shit like this and
you feel like shitty eating shit contests with three bilingual
co-eds.”
While the theatrics
went on on-stange and random psychic phenomenon that made one feel as
if there had been a disturbance in the force, the true comedy was on
the courtroom floor. After only three throws and a right from behind
to the kidneys, the state's attorney fell over and died, leaving no
one to prosecute the case. Because you see. When there ain't no one
to prosecute a case, the victim gets off Scot-free!
However if one
happened to die while on the pot, another one would grow back in its
place. This weed allegory is not only quietly brilliant, it is also
sound science. But before another state prosecutor could feed off of
the nutrients in the soil so that it could point it's hefty finger of
justice, the autistic shit's attorney sprayed Weed-Be-Gone on the
roots. And wouldn't you know it, the plant that the state
prosecuting attorney had been riding the coat tails of had failed to
grow again. Leaving a large and unfilled hole in our legal system. A
gaping hole that no one could ever fill. Nope. No one. At least not
for this story anyways.
The doctor's head
exploded into a storm of confetti that blew dicks from across the
room during the process of extracting more information from the cum
stained sock that was this autistic boy's face. As they say, you can
never have too much information, but in this case it was too much
information. How about that? Mused the judge.
Sometimes you just
had to think outside the taco...
“Case dismissed!”
The Judge shouted as he shot up from his chair and par-keyed over the
podium and onto the wooden paneled floor. With a salt shaker in one
hand and some nachos the other, he was finally a happy man. “As
long as you don't cross the street at an angle, you're on
unsupervised probation until December eighteenth at eight am in the
morning.”
The courtroom
erupted with applause and silly string was strung and the gay men did
their gay homo gay thing Over in the smoking section of the
courtroom. The spot filled with desperate housewives trying to get a
TV deal. That's where gay people go all gay and be really gay.
As for the eager
young male intern, this walking autistic mammogram, he walked down
the courthouse's staircase just outside of the front door where he
was accosted by a throng of throbbing journalists. Hard hitting news
this be, said they, despite their best efforts to get him down, he
was pretty happy with himself for once. And everyone knows that once
your happy with yourself, that's when the real trouble starts. Frowny
face.
The reporters. They
asked “Why did you do it?”
The autistic boy
bent over and let his asshole do the talking. “Because this is
fucking Art!”
The journalists and
psychiatrists scribbled feverishly on their journalist and
psychiatrist notebooks. Surely this was the news of the century! Art
so hardcore that it will flavor your coffee with half the fat of
normal bullshit!
The autistic after
birth tilted his his head and looked to the sky.
“Is this fucking
art?” He pondered. “Or am I having a stroke?”
