Post by Guillotine (QDT) on Feb 24, 2019 20:48:42 GMT -5
Sittin on the dock of the bay. Not Otis Redding... a filthy bum down on her luck. Watching the tide roll away along with the last vestiges of hope and dignity, no doubt contemplating her imminent career as a crackwhore. Like the philanderer... err philanthropist I am, I'm gonna extend her rope. And that's not a euphemism for my gigantic dong. I sit beside her. She supresses her obvious lust and plays all tough bitch.
Quixote: Hey crackwhore. I know it's unwise to throw pearls before swine but I'm giving Wasabi a title shot at #EFFINRAGER so fuck it. OINK OINK x2. How'd ya like $1000?
Crackwhore: Mister, I ain't no HO!
I show her the money. Her face lights up like a tacky Christmas tree.
Quixote: I ain't buying. I'll get my syphilis mangling Wasabi's ass later. You're right though, there's strings attached.
Crackwhore: What strings?
Quixote: I bet that, given the circumstances, you'd violate moral decency for 1000 bucks.
Crackwhore: You're on.
Heh. Stupid bitch.
Quixote: Let's play a game of Russian Roulette. You win, you get a GRAND. I win...
Crackwhore: … I'm done.
Quixote: Exactly.
Crackwhore: Whatever, I'm dead anyway.
Quixote: Fine, I'll start.
I spin the cylinder, cock the gun to my temple.
Crackwhore: FUCK NO, WAIT!
CLICK! Phew, I'm good. I pass her the gun.
Quixote: Now you.
She hesitates, sweating like a peado in a playground.
Crackwhore: This a trick?
Quixote: No trick. 1000 smackeroonies remember!
She shakes. Starts to weep. Haha.
CLICK! Ballbags! No hilarious brain splatter yet. She exhales loudly.
Quixote: My turn.
Crackwhore: STOP! I can't do this. Ain't worth it.
I pull the trigger... CLI... the click doesn't come... BOOM! Fuck. I'm dead on impact.
And so, dear friends, here lies the corpse of QDT. Head blood sodden, skull and tissue fragments everywhere, body slumped. The homeless woman screams incessantly "FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK" at this gory tragedy but no ears are near to hear.
Barely two minutes later, she composes herself and... snatches the money from Quixote's lifeless palm! She nervously scans around before starting to flee...
Quixote: Not worth it, eh?
I grab her slutty ankles like I'm Freddy Kruger. She wails like a banshee.
Crackwhore: I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD?!?! What else could I have done?! The cops would've thought I was responsible!
Quixote: Bullshit, money talks. Just like when I paid the AW makeup department to fix me some gore to dupe you with.
Crackwhore: Asshole!
Quixote: Yep, but I'm the asshole who'll let you keep your cash.
I hand her back the grand. She smiles like a needy cunt. I THROW HER INTO THE SHITTING BAY!
Quixote: I reveal the YOU you conceal! You refused me pussy from the get-go but you've proven yourself an almighty whore. You thought I'd blown my brains out yet you STILL took the green. You're like everyone else. Speaking of green, Wasabi's the same. He comes into AW all respectful and shit. "Ooh I'm just here to work hard, kiss err kick ass and be a good little choirboy. Love me, people". Yet it took, what? - 2 weeks, for me to provoke him to anger. But he couldn't inflict anything more than a prepubescent girl slap on me so he sprayed some shit in my eyes... Wasabi Mist? Vaporized halitosis more like. That shit stank.
Wasabi's a desperate beggar, like you. The ultimate chancer. He puts his name out there, networks, befriends anyone because he has ZERO talent, NOTHING of worth. He got a title shot despite making Rita Jobber Stevens look like Alexander motherfuckin' Pasternak last week. Mediocrity's rewarded in AW if you can pucker the sphincter like Wasabi. Snivelling, people pleasing dweeb.
I gave you the moolah, wench. But it's useless with you in the river. Just like Wasabi's title shot's utterly meaningless. This Russian Roulette will always be fixed in my favour because my bullets never miss. He only fires blanks. Unlike you, girl, I don't swallow. At #EFFINRAGER, I'm gonna chew Wasabi up and spit him out like he's hot. Which he ISN'T.
She climbs awkwardly back onto the pier.
Crackwhore: Was that supposed to be a killer closing line?
Quixote: … Eat my arse.
Quixote: Hey crackwhore. I know it's unwise to throw pearls before swine but I'm giving Wasabi a title shot at #EFFINRAGER so fuck it. OINK OINK x2. How'd ya like $1000?
Crackwhore: Mister, I ain't no HO!
I show her the money. Her face lights up like a tacky Christmas tree.
Quixote: I ain't buying. I'll get my syphilis mangling Wasabi's ass later. You're right though, there's strings attached.
Crackwhore: What strings?
Quixote: I bet that, given the circumstances, you'd violate moral decency for 1000 bucks.
Crackwhore: You're on.
Heh. Stupid bitch.
Quixote: Let's play a game of Russian Roulette. You win, you get a GRAND. I win...
Crackwhore: … I'm done.
Quixote: Exactly.
Crackwhore: Whatever, I'm dead anyway.
Quixote: Fine, I'll start.
I spin the cylinder, cock the gun to my temple.
Crackwhore: FUCK NO, WAIT!
CLICK! Phew, I'm good. I pass her the gun.
Quixote: Now you.
She hesitates, sweating like a peado in a playground.
Crackwhore: This a trick?
Quixote: No trick. 1000 smackeroonies remember!
She shakes. Starts to weep. Haha.
CLICK! Ballbags! No hilarious brain splatter yet. She exhales loudly.
Quixote: My turn.
Crackwhore: STOP! I can't do this. Ain't worth it.
I pull the trigger... CLI... the click doesn't come... BOOM! Fuck. I'm dead on impact.
And so, dear friends, here lies the corpse of QDT. Head blood sodden, skull and tissue fragments everywhere, body slumped. The homeless woman screams incessantly "FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK" at this gory tragedy but no ears are near to hear.
Barely two minutes later, she composes herself and... snatches the money from Quixote's lifeless palm! She nervously scans around before starting to flee...
Quixote: Not worth it, eh?
I grab her slutty ankles like I'm Freddy Kruger. She wails like a banshee.
Crackwhore: I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD?!?! What else could I have done?! The cops would've thought I was responsible!
Quixote: Bullshit, money talks. Just like when I paid the AW makeup department to fix me some gore to dupe you with.
Crackwhore: Asshole!
Quixote: Yep, but I'm the asshole who'll let you keep your cash.
I hand her back the grand. She smiles like a needy cunt. I THROW HER INTO THE SHITTING BAY!
Quixote: I reveal the YOU you conceal! You refused me pussy from the get-go but you've proven yourself an almighty whore. You thought I'd blown my brains out yet you STILL took the green. You're like everyone else. Speaking of green, Wasabi's the same. He comes into AW all respectful and shit. "Ooh I'm just here to work hard, kiss err kick ass and be a good little choirboy. Love me, people". Yet it took, what? - 2 weeks, for me to provoke him to anger. But he couldn't inflict anything more than a prepubescent girl slap on me so he sprayed some shit in my eyes... Wasabi Mist? Vaporized halitosis more like. That shit stank.
Wasabi's a desperate beggar, like you. The ultimate chancer. He puts his name out there, networks, befriends anyone because he has ZERO talent, NOTHING of worth. He got a title shot despite making Rita Jobber Stevens look like Alexander motherfuckin' Pasternak last week. Mediocrity's rewarded in AW if you can pucker the sphincter like Wasabi. Snivelling, people pleasing dweeb.
I gave you the moolah, wench. But it's useless with you in the river. Just like Wasabi's title shot's utterly meaningless. This Russian Roulette will always be fixed in my favour because my bullets never miss. He only fires blanks. Unlike you, girl, I don't swallow. At #EFFINRAGER, I'm gonna chew Wasabi up and spit him out like he's hot. Which he ISN'T.
She climbs awkwardly back onto the pier.
Crackwhore: Was that supposed to be a killer closing line?
Quixote: … Eat my arse.