David's William S. Burrough cartoon sketch thingy art stuff whatever....

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?”