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Offline Baby Doll

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on: October 31, 2019, 12:42:36 PM

The Texas parking garage massacre












[A poorly lit  underground parking garage]

This is Tatum, psychopath.  I am currently crouched down in the backseat of a Honda civic waiting for the owner to arrive.

After 3 hours  the car door finally opens, it's a woman, she does not see me. As she places the keys in the ignition I whisper in her ear, "Boomshakalaka!" while I swing  my blade attempting to skewer the back of her cranium. But things do not go as planned, the woman, whose name is Phlegm, twists her head around too fast to see and my knife slams down onto her forehead and shatters instantly, a small drop of blood trickles down Phlegm's face. I am momentary at a lost for words.

I stare as Phlegm unhinges her jaw and opens her mouth wide, too wide to be natural, rows of white picket fence teeth glint in the darkness as she lunges at me, snapping her jaws over and over. Her teeth slamming together makes an eerie sound, it resembles the noise of hundreds of people typing on PC keyboards, faster and faster. The noise digs into my brain sending  vibrations down my body. I am forced to dodge and weave and retreat until I am  pressed up against the backseat. Phlegm is ready to pounce, I must turn the tide of this battle now.

I retrieve the 7 inch 1095 carbon steel blade I keep as a backup strapped to my side, let's see just how tough this bitch's forehead is. Phlegm retreats and slams that huge forehead into the car's dashboard with a resounding "KABLOOEY!". Every window in the car shatters showering me with glass and sending me flying out the back window. Phlegm then slams her forehead into the driver's door blasting it from it's hinges and sending it crashing across the car park. Phlegm then darts out of the vehicle and starts to run. I give chase.

She is slow, I catch up and drag her down by the hair. I slam her head against a reinforced steel concrete support beam again and again, the beam buckles first. I throw Phlegm onto her back and kick her in the vajayjay , I try to pull back and discover my foot is stuck. I scream in pain as her vaginal teeth clamp down, tearing through my Air Jordans and biting down on my toes. With my free leg I start stomping on her face until I feel her cooter unclench. I pull my foot free and jump back.

This crazy motherfucking  bitch must be strung out on weed and Red Bull, I think to myself, I gotta end this now.

I dive at her throat and slam my knife downward, attempting to impale her neck to the concrete floor, but she is faster, Phlegm tucks her chin and with incredible speed, catches the knife between her teeth, my blade holds. "Fuck!", I yell. She flails trying to wrench the knife from my hands but I keep that  carbon steel knife well oiled, she won't be able to maintain a firm grip, I quickly smash the butt of the knife and it send it sliding down her throat and out the back of her neck. A small geyser of blood is sent upwards followed by a ghastly groan that resembles the sound of a cow having sex.

This Phlegm woman must be mutant spawn from the loins of interbreeding hillbillies or some deranged asshole who posts on flame boards all day.

I casually walk out of the car park and disappear into the night.



« Last Edit: November 01, 2019, 02:05:02 PM by foxmulder »
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Offline Phester0boyle

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Reply #1 on: October 31, 2019, 12:49:05 PM
Yikes!
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Chuck you...….Shummer


Offline Aryan

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Reply #2 on: October 31, 2019, 01:03:40 PM
That’ll teach you for getting all rapey with a negress, they’re wild animals and not submissive in the slightest.
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Flynn

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Reply #3 on: October 31, 2019, 01:13:39 PM

The Texas parking garage massacre












[A poorly lit  underground parking garage]

This is Tatum, psychopath.  I am currently crouched down in the backseat of a Honda civic waiting for the owner to arrive.

After 3 hours  the car door finally opens, it's a woman, she does not see me. As she places the keys in the ignition I whisper in her ear, "Boomshakalaka!" while I swing  my blade attempting to skewer the back of her cranium. But things do not go as planned, the woman, whose name is Phlegm, twists her head around too fast to see and my knife slams down onto her forehead and shatters instantly, a small drop of blood trickles down Phlegm's face. I am momentary at a lost for words.

I stare as Phlegm unhinges her jaw and opens her mouth wide, too wide to be natural, rows of white picket fence teeth glint in the darkness as she lunges at me, snapping her jaws over and over. Her teeth slamming together makes an eerie sound, it resembles the noise of hundreds of people typing on PC keyboards, faster and faster. The noise digs into my brain sending  vibrations down my body. I am forced to dodge and weave and retreat until I am  pressed up against the backseat. Phlegm is ready to pounce, I must turn the tide of this battle now.

I retrieve the 7 inch 1095 carbon steel blade I keep as a backup strapped to my side, let's see just how tough this bitch's forehead is. Phlegm retreats and slams that huge forehead into the car's dashboard with a resounding "KABLOOEY!". Every window in the car shatters showering me with glass and sending me flying out the back window. Phlegm then slams her forehead into the driver's door blasting it from it's hinges and sending it crashing across the car park. Phlegm then darts out of the vehicle and starts to run. I give chase.

She is slow, I catch up and drag her down by the hair. I slam her head against a reinforced steel concrete support beam again and again, the beam buckles first. I throw Phlegm onto her back and kick her in the vajayjay , I try to pull back and discover my foot is stuck. I scream in pain as her vaginal teeth clamp down, tearing through my Air Jordans and biting down on my toes. With my free leg I start stomping on her face until I feel her cooter unclench. I pull my foot free and jump back.

This crazy motherfucking  bitch must be strung out on weed and Red Bull, I think to myself, I gotta end this now.

I dive at her throat and slam my knife downward, attempting to impale her neck to the concrete floor, but she is faster, Phlegm tucks her chin and with incredible speed, catches the knife between her teeth, my blade holds. "Fuck!", I yell. She flails trying to wrench the knife from my hands but I keep that  carbon steel knife well oiled, she won't be able to maintain a firm grip, I quickly smash the butt of the knife and it send it sliding down her throat and out the back of her neck. A small geyser of blood is sent upwards followed by a ghastly groan that resembles the sound of a cow having sex.

This Phlegm woman must be mutant spawn from the loins of interbreeding hillbillies or some deranged asshole who posts on flame boards all day.

I casually walk out of the car park and disappear into the night.

We have a winner! Congrats! Fox! You are now known as the most mentally disturbed, misogynistic poster ever. How does it feel beating out Rancid for that accolade?
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Offline Baby Doll

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Reply #4 on: October 31, 2019, 03:27:36 PM
We have a winner! Congrats! Fox! You are now known as the most mentally disturbed, misogynistic poster ever. How does it feel beating out Rancid for that accolade?

it's a derivative horror troupe combining  scenes from  "Drag me to hell"  "teeth 2007" and the cartoon body deformations of big foreheads from Kung Fu Hustle.  You seem to be unable to distinguish obvious cinematic special effects and horror genre from douche baggery like attacking deceased people by way of the karma system

BTW, sorry about your penis

and Tatum is female, making her a feminist arch type in the  revenge horror mode, dumbass
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Offline Baby Doll

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Reply #5 on: October 31, 2019, 03:59:40 PM
THE BOX


DELIVERYMAN: I'm just delivering a package, I got this package here for Freud.  Some girl paid me 500 to deliver it out here.

Detective David Mills: We got a box.

Detective David Mills: Is this your work Tatum?

Tatum: Maybe. It's a gift for Freud

Freud: Tatum, what the fuck did you do?

Tatum: I visited your home this morning. After you'd left.

Freud: The fuck you talking about?

Detective David pulls his switchblade, clicks it open. He cuts across the top of the box, hands shaking, cuts quickly. He pulls the box open and starts pulling out  bubble wrap.

Freud: What the fuck is in the box!!

Detective David Mills: We got bubble wrap so far, a lot.

Freud: What the fuck did you do Tatum?

Detective David Mills stumbles backwards, away from the open box. He is white as a sheet, eyes filled with numb fear.

Detective David Mills: Don't look in the box, get it out of here now!

Freud: WHAT THE HELL IS IN THE BOX??

Tatum smiles

Freud draws his gun and points it at Tatum, what the fuck is in the box?

Detective David Mills attempts to restrain Freud but Freud breaks free and grabs the box. His eyes go wide in horror as he pulls out torn fabric and foam stuffing.

Freud looks to the heavens and screams "COUCH!!!!"

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Offline Baby Doll

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Reply #6 on: October 31, 2019, 04:25:58 PM
The following post is rated MA, it may contain intense violence, blood and gore, sexual content and/or strong language

Several movie/book quotes (some modified) have been used within this post.






For Ginger























The Arrest and Confession of Tatum Riley




(Victims names have been changed to protect the innocent as well as the guilty)

[Deputy Dewey has arrested a suspect in a brutal murder, the interrogation begins]

Deputy Dewey: You look like hell.

Tatum: Yea, I just got back.

Deputy Dewey: Why do you kill?

Tatum: Ummmm, hobby....I guess.

Deputy Dewey: How do you kill?

Tatum: I usually cut your throat or slash you to ribbons. I don't believe in guns.

Deputy Dewey: Why did you chose Fuckey McFuckface?

Tatum: He was home.

Deputy Dewey: What did you expect from this encounter.

Tatum: Blood, lots of it.

Deputy Dewey: Give me your first impression of Fuckey McFuckface.

Tatum: A pathetic metrosexual action figure with a plastic personality. He was wearing goth Lederhosen  and  bragged about having a five hundred dollar Dolce and Gabbana T shirt. What kind of fucking t shirt costs three hundred dollars, was it made of Merino sheep foreskins and butterfly wings?

Tatum: Fuckey McFuckface said he masturbated at least 5 times a day, the cool kids call that podcasting. Every time he asked his Alexa a question it would tell him to fuck off. He believed as many as six impossible things about himself each day.

Deputy Dewey: Curiouser and curiouser.

Tatum: He fed his dog cheap ass food he bought at the dollar store, and they call me a monster.

Deputy Dewey: So you eventually went to his bedroom, tell us how that went.

Tatum: A disappointments room would be a better term for this section of the house. He had no bed, just a mattress in the middle of the floor. And not a clean mattress but  a disgusting one you would find propped up against a telephone pole. I guess he thought it was the find of the century because he rescued it before the rats could carry it off to the sewer.

Deputy Dewey: Did he ask for sex next?

Tatum: No, he asked me if I wanted to watch him play Fortnite, "Fuck no", I said.

Tatum: He then started rambling about fleshlights, whatever that is. He seemed to climax several times as he continued to talk about himself in 3rd person. Finally I just screamed at him to  take off his clothes, which he eagerly did. I remained  clothed and just stared at him with murderous intent. He was making more bad choices than a blonde bimbo in a horror movie.

Deputy Dewey: So did he have monster cock?

Tatum: No, his penis was beyond small, minuscule would be more apropos. It was like an optical illusion, from certain angles it appeared to not even exist.

Deputy Dewey: What happened next?

Tatum: I pretended to be checking him out and walked behind him. I asked, "Do you know what I want?", he said "Fuck like minks, raise rugrats and live happily ever after", "No" I replied, " I want your blood all over me" then I grabbed his gaming laptop and smashed it over his  head and was greeted by a satisfying thud followed by a gushing head wound.  I shouted "It's Game over man, game over!".

Tatum: He was dazed, tears falling from his eyes. The first knife stab was quick and fast, I danced around his body..stab, stabby, stab, stab. Countless spurts of blood coated the walls, it was an improvement from his gaudy wallpaper. The sanguine torrent  fell like rain. His  blood was really warm, it’s like drinking hot chocolate but with more screaming.

Deputy Dewey: Did he say anything during all this?

Tatum: "Ughhh arghhh ugghhhh!!

Deputy Dewey: How did it end

Tatum: Two quick slashes to his achilles tendon, a dainty <poke> to his back and BAM, bitch went down, nose went crunch, two..no three teeth skittered across the floor, I turned him onto his back and said, "The last thing you're ever going to see is me, Tatum Riley,  smiling down at you as you die". Then I slit his throat.

Deputy Dewey: Did you attempt to throw off the police?

Tatum: Yes , I  took the broken Fuckey McFuckface mug pieces I stole from Vitriol's trash and placed them around the body so that  the police would  think he was a victim of his own faulty coffee mugs. Fuckey McFuckface sold 18 fucking coffee mugs, did you know that?

Deputy Dewey: Now that is a fucking crime!! Continue please.

Tatum: There was so much blood, or was it. I licked my fingers, corn syrup. Same stuff they used for pig's blood in "Carrie." I knew it, this guy was fake as hell. I kicked his prone body and it made a sound like a dog squeak toy. You gotta be fucking kidding me.

Deputy Dewey: I blame it all on you watching too many horror movies.

Tatum: Don't you blame the movies; movies don't create psychos, movies make psychos more creative!  And besides we all go a little mad sometimes. It was self defense, he attacked me with the sharp end of a juice box and I fought back. I am the final girl, the vestibule virgin, the only one left to tell the story. Give me a "I killed Fuckey McFuckface and all i got was this lousy shirt" and let me walk out of here.

Deputy Dewey: I don't know if I can do that.

Tatum: Then how about I just gut you like a fish.

Deputy Dewey: If I weren’t about to shit in my pants right now, I’d be fuckin turned on.

Tatum: Fuck you!

Deputy Dewey: Ohhhhh, sounds fun.

Tatum:  Deputy Dewey, so what if I'm crazy, the best people are. I am going to walk out of here and their is nothing you can do about it.

Deputy Dewey: HEY, HEY, I am the dam deputy of Woodsboro and I have a duty to stop you fro.......

Tatum: <Lunges and places a knife to Deputy Dewey's throat> Mind if I lick your face Deputy, men taste so much better when they're afraid. <pouting> Why are you closing your eyes, you don't want to see my knife up close? Before the stabs, before the goring of your soft parts that will bring oblivion. The sight of my lips, curling back in a smile, my shudder of excitement, your blood splattering my face, you falling to the floor, 2 hearts beating faster, faster, until one of them stops.

Deputy Dewey: Holy shit, I can't feel my nipples! You are scarier than a children's birthday party clown.

Tatum: So can we consider this situation fucking handled?

Deputy Dewey: You are free to go.

Tatum: Groovy!

Epilogue (one hour later)

Deputy Dewey: [Yelling] Would you care to explain how broken pieces of a Fuckey McFuckface coffee mug, with your fingerprints all over it, ended up at my crime scene?

Vitriol: WHAT!!!

Deputy Dewey: You actually bought a Fuckey McFuckface Coffee mug? Are you fucking retarded?

Vitriol: What???

Deputy Dewey: Did I just stutter? Do you speak Engrish?

Vitriol: What?

Deputy Dewey: Engrish mudda fucka, dew yew speaky tits?

Vitriol: I ummm.....

Deputy Dewey: Can your girlfriend confirm an alibi?

Vitriol: I don't even have a girlfriend.

Deputy: That's because I am your girlfriend now, bitch! You know why I never scream when we have sex?

Vitriol: I don't know how to answer that.

Deputy Dewey: It's because you never give me something to scream about.

Vitriol: This line of questioning is making me very uncomfortable.

Deputy Dewey: I wanna shake you naked and eat you alive, now get your ass on the desk and prepare for the fuck of your life. They are going to need the jaws of life to remove your balls from my mouth, my tongue is going to be like Lewis and Clark and explore every inch of your ass.

Vitriol: <speechless>

Deputy Dewey:<dancing> I'm Mister Soda pop, licka, licka my lips, Hit me with your sweet love, steal me with a kiss. Candy bear, sweetie pie, I wanna be adored, spank me, whip me, treat me like a whore. Did you cast a spell on me, are you a witch, doesn't really matter cause I'm gonna be your bubblegum bitch!!!!

Vitriol: <stands up> What the fuck is going on here?????

Deputy Dewey: HAHAHAHAHAHA! I am just messing with you. We wrapped up this case an hour ago. It appears Fuckey McFuckface was a rogue sex doll that somehow went crazy. Remember those Chuckey dolls that started killing people and they had to recall them?

Vitriol: Umm that was only a  movie.

Deputy Dewey: That's what the deep state wants you to believe. Anyway you may go Vitriol, and thank you for your service in Vietnam.




I get this ache... And I, I thought it was for sex, but it's to tear everything to fucking pieces. Ginger Snaps (2000)
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Offline H.C.Trouble

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Reply #7 on: October 31, 2019, 05:36:42 PM
Not the type of whore stories I'm used to but  quite refreshing even though they're not as scary.
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Offline Phester0boyle

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Reply #8 on: October 31, 2019, 06:25:19 PM
Yuo got one hellofa majination. +
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Chuck you...….Shummer


Offline Garraty_47

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Reply #9 on: October 31, 2019, 06:52:10 PM
Fox slowly regains consciousness.
At first all is dark and filled with far away noise; gradually the noise gets louder, more distinct, becomes individual voices and an alarm blaring somewhere in the distance.

Fox opens his eyes and tries to make sense of the blurry shapes moving around him.

"Any others?" one of the shapes asks.

"Nah. He's all that's left, the lucky bastard." the response comes from another indistinct figure behind the first.

Fox's eyesight focuses, blurs, and focuses again.
His surroundings aren't familiar at all: pallets, boxes, the floor walls and ceiling are all dull grey and metallic.
Four people are in the room with him- two women and two men, mostly dressed in military-style uniforms and carrying a variety of large weapons.

The woman with some kind of officer insignia on her army-issue helmet barks: "Get him on his feet; we need to leave right fucking now."

One of the men standing near Fox strides over and stands next to him.
Strong hands grab Fox's left bicep and jerk him upward, shaking him a little when he doesn't immediately find his footing.

"Wait." cautions the other woman, the only person besides himself not wearing tactical gear.

She closes the distance between them while sniffing the air, almost like a bloodhound tracking a scent.
Leaning in to snuffle Fox's neck and chest she makes a sour face and backs away again quickly.

"Leave him. There's one inside him."

The hands half holding him up are gone and the man who lifted him also backs away and points his weapon at Fox.

"Fuck!" his erstwhile helper exclaims.

Still stunned and confused Fox mumbles: "What's inside me?"

"Are you sure?"
"Yeah. He stinks of it."

Fox tries again, louder and he hopes more coherently: "What's inside me?"

"We could take him with us, put him in cryo-stasis, let the docs at HQ..."
"No way. We can't chance it. That goddamn thing doesn't come onboard my ship."

On the verge of panic Fox screams: "WHAT'S INFUCKINGSIDE ME?!?"

The woman wearing civilian garb smirks and says:
"There's a troll in your chest. A really nasty one, too.
Soon, probably within an hour, it's going to chew it's way out and kill you in the process.
Then it'll grow; it'll start shouting 'BOOM', 'COUCH', and 'GHEY' at everybody.
It won't shut the fuck up. Ever. It'll just run around boring the shit out of anyone it meets."

Fox, trembling and barely able to stand up, stutters: "I-I d-d-don't believe you."

"Suit yourself. It's true though."

"H-How do you know?"

"Because silly man... I'm its mother."

Fox's sanity breaks with an almost audible snap as he lurches past the terrible woman and the soldiers.
He sees an open door and rushes toward it as fast as his wobbly legs will carry him.
The room is dark and smaller than he thought it would be; just a few strides takes him from the doorway to a wall that rings like a bell when Fox slams into it.
Staggering and muddled again thanks to violently bouncing his forehead off the suddenly appearing wall, Fox hears the door clank shut and the hiss of a seal engaging.

The woman wearing the officer's uniform laughs. "That's convenient."

The man who had dragged Fox to his feet stands next to the now closed hatch.
"Open it? He isn't wearing a suit; he won't last 30 seconds."

The officer turns to the other woman: "Will that kill it?"

The woman shrugs. "Probably. It's not designed to live in open space."

The officer nods to the man and he pushes a large red button on the wall next to the hatch.
A barely-heard whoosh is the only sign given that the contents of the room had been dumped into the empty vacuum of interplanetary space.

"Sucks to be that guy." the man at the hatch says, shaking his head.

The officer sighs and remarks:
"Yeah. Now let's get back to our ship and nuke this infested hunk of crap; it's the only way to be sure."
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Offline Baby Doll

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Reply #10 on: November 01, 2019, 02:02:32 PM
Relaxing image  and song needed after all the horror







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Offline Blandscape

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Reply #11 on: November 23, 2019, 04:48:06 PM
There are days of the week that should be named after Foxy.

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