story by Norm and Paul
music by Dave
see Norm's page under the Youtube name nrm333
I could hear some of them shout that that the Perv Cubes had been partially demolished in the blast--The Loco Vatos were playing hard ball.... Now the first escaped Pervs could be seen chasing after the terrified crackheads--naked, bestial, covered with loathsome wounds and dried secretions and blood and shit and flittering unspeakably filthy rags--The bellow like uncaged apes, shambling along the gutters with athletic idiot grace, grabbing at the fleeing people, raping and vampiricrally murdering right in the streets. I was watching the spectacle, too shocked to move, when I was suddenly seized from behind by enormous hands--A chunk of something--wood, concrete?--smashed into my skull--I saw lights inside my brain--I was pinned to the ground, and overpowered by the most noxious stench imaginable--I rolled onto my back and I could see a gigantic naked leprous faggot, completely encrusted in shit--Stumpy infectious fingers clutched at my pants, trying to tear them away. it was making the most obscene grunts, drool and bloody pus and snot oozing from its rotting nose hole. I had to think fast--My switchblade was in my right pocket--I got it out just as the freak's gaping shiny lips were about to reach my crotch--I hit the switch and the blade sprang out--The monstrous tub of shit grunted and I sank the knife deep under the chin--A flood of thick blood gushed onto my hand and I almost puked--The wretch spasmed in a heap as I wrestled free of its stumpy grip. The leper flopped onto its back and I could see in the mercury lamp's flickering blue glow that the half-human thing had a frizzy beard, and was wearing bluejean overalls--A patch reading "ICP Juggalos" (whatever the fuck that meant--some retarded gang likely) was sewn onto the bib part, now stained with blood and pus and vomit. I hawked a lunger onto the dead freak's face and doused my hands with Purell....
For a moment I stared at the clownish idiotic man I had just killed and he spit up another pint of blood from his mouth trying to say something. "You... your're... fucking going down... Ssshiiiiit assss mutha... fuckin... Vimps... You're fucking... going..."--I slit his throat clear in half before he could gargle another blood garbled gibberish word. I aint going down till I wanna get down. And this shit is just starting. I spewed from my chapped crack lips, throwing my still burning cig butt onto his body and dowsing it in gasoline. My crew of egg gatherers was all waiting in anticipation for me to do the final egg cracking. I thought about going into loco vatos territory cause of the rumors I had heard that they were losing it all together. and that their leader was now eating rabid dead possums and screaming meningitis hymns to the polluted moon at night, while trying to masturbate into a teddy bear full of ky jelly. He had this teddy bear since the third grade I had heard through many a spy I had hired. and he considered it his best friend. The undercover Clean pigs had been found out and I was upset I wasnt there to help kill them in the bloody battle with those sick vato fuckers. Im not sure where Chuck is. Last I heard from one of my crew was he was now dressing in nothing but chicken feathers with a massive amount of dynamite strapped to his body holding pictures of his dead slut girlfriend. I guess he got a hold of some of the best meth left on this sick place called earth and had been up for more days then I have on my fingers. I was worried about my friend but what could I do... I now had an entire crew to run... i could see him now. Chuck the fuck, chuck and fuck... babbling to the dark sky of Houston. Love. Love will make any man or woman lose all marbles Chuck had always sort of been out there. In space. Among the stars. In that alien world we all wonder about... I mean even a little more than me... and He had told me many times he was not scared of death and that he somewhat welcomed it. I decided to enjoy an all night crack party with the rest of my gang of belligerent losers who were now calling me their leader. Leader? I aint no fucking leader man. Im just another dam crack head trying to get by in this left over world of chaos... Chuck's fathers name was Plopo. Some called him king Plopo. Those damn doctors and ambulance crew had saved his life some how. Chuck's father had blown his brains out in a suicide attempt back in the 70s, but for some reason half his head was still alive and the paramedics managed to dig a breathing tube down his throat before he could take his final breath. And now he lived on top a hill in the Malibu Mountains from his settlement with the insurance company. Crazed. Deformed beyond human belief. Staring out into the ocean. He had a crew of nurses that shot him up with the best opiates all day long while he kept an eye on what was going on with his son... even though he had no vision as in human terms.
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OK, this is real strange!
Railrodder 2 years ago
wtf
1996bluenose 2 years ago