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- 1 de Mayo, 2017
Why post here? You already have a blog, maybe tumblr would be more receptive.
A thread where i can post my stories? - let me know if i fucked up again, sorry
- Iniciador del tema littlestclown
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🇵🇦 Nuestro primer dominio localizado está en español en kiwifarms.pa. Our first localized domain is on Spanish on kiwifarms.pa.
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littlestclown
kiwifarms.net
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- 5 de Ene, 2019
ive tried, but this is the most people have noticed me online im afraid
H
HG 400
Guest
kiwifarms.net
I unironically hope you kill yourself.
- Registrado
- 12 de Feb, 2017
Maybe because you try to cram a textwall down their throats. Try to advertise yourself more. All I can find on you is this thread and that blog.
littlestclown
kiwifarms.net
- Registrado
- 5 de Ene, 2019
ouch... you guys can be pretty brutal
- Registrado
- 12 de Feb, 2017
How did you find this site? Do you know what we discuss?
- Registrado
- 17 de Abr, 2015
Fucking lurk moar.
littlestclown
kiwifarms.net
- Registrado
- 5 de Ene, 2019
A shorter story today, almost a parable if you will. I quite like this one...
Done With Life
An old man seated on the ground; homeless, saddened, and pissed off. A man in sunglasses happened to be going in his direction; as he neared the old man, he looked at him for a while.
“What?”
“Oh, nothing. Just thinking.”
“Well go think somewhere else.”
“Do you jack off?”
“What?!”
“You know… beat the meat, choke the chicken?”
“What’s it to you? Fuck off!”
“You know, here I look at you, and I can tell you’ve got potential. If only you didn’t masturbate, you could do something with your life.” The old man shifted around. “Trust me: success will come… if you cease and desist. It must be immediate, and if you fail once, it will all be in vain. I’m off.”
“Wait!”
“Huh?”
“Tell me more. Expound, if you will.” The suave man, named Carlos by the way, took his seat next to the old man, and let his forearm rest on his left knee.
“I was once like you… let me recall for you.”
I was a 25 year old virgin. The year 26 was coming. That means I’d have to move out of my parent’s house. Thanks Obama. It was nice while it lasted. But looking back, the insurance policy hurt me more that it helped me. I just partied it up, all by myself. Ganja every day and night… Drinking myself to sleep… It was all a blur. And I masturbated three times a day. Any time that pesky alpha male inside of my bothered me with visions of finding a wife… I’d beat my meat. So naturally, I never made myself into anything. I was lost. All of my DNA, my substance, my passion, thrown in the toilet. Flush. Away goes all my ambitions. I washed myself down the drain with drugs. LSD… It made me think I was special. I wasn’t. I was scum. No work ethic. Life demands work. When the going gets tough, you gotta be tough. Now I don’t do drugs. Now I don’t touch myself. I’m clean… I’ve got a wife… And I have four beautiful children, and a job! I used to be on food stamps, sold my soul. I was an asshole too. Used to think Ganja made me so smart. If only I could see where I’d be if I’d never touched the stuff. Now I’m a wealthy industrialist, and in my spare time I travel and teach children not to touch themselves or smoke weed. It’s been a successful campaign, but I’ve noticed that Benadryl has become a problem… People jack off on it… Wasting their lives. If only they’d see the money they could be making. The potential they have… Well, to be perfectly truthful, I did slip up the other day… Looked at porn. Crazy, exotic porn. I was like a monkey that night. Palms were sweating.
“Eh em.”
“Yes?”
The old man showed him a tape recorder. The old man’s face had changed now. No longer a destitute fool, but the king of fools. His chiseled, weathered face resembled a leprechaun’s.
“Pay up bud. I’ve got the dirt.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“It can be easy or hard. And hard is uncharted waters.”
Done With Life
An old man seated on the ground; homeless, saddened, and pissed off. A man in sunglasses happened to be going in his direction; as he neared the old man, he looked at him for a while.
“What?”
“Oh, nothing. Just thinking.”
“Well go think somewhere else.”
“Do you jack off?”
“What?!”
“You know… beat the meat, choke the chicken?”
“What’s it to you? Fuck off!”
“You know, here I look at you, and I can tell you’ve got potential. If only you didn’t masturbate, you could do something with your life.” The old man shifted around. “Trust me: success will come… if you cease and desist. It must be immediate, and if you fail once, it will all be in vain. I’m off.”
“Wait!”
“Huh?”
“Tell me more. Expound, if you will.” The suave man, named Carlos by the way, took his seat next to the old man, and let his forearm rest on his left knee.
“I was once like you… let me recall for you.”
I was a 25 year old virgin. The year 26 was coming. That means I’d have to move out of my parent’s house. Thanks Obama. It was nice while it lasted. But looking back, the insurance policy hurt me more that it helped me. I just partied it up, all by myself. Ganja every day and night… Drinking myself to sleep… It was all a blur. And I masturbated three times a day. Any time that pesky alpha male inside of my bothered me with visions of finding a wife… I’d beat my meat. So naturally, I never made myself into anything. I was lost. All of my DNA, my substance, my passion, thrown in the toilet. Flush. Away goes all my ambitions. I washed myself down the drain with drugs. LSD… It made me think I was special. I wasn’t. I was scum. No work ethic. Life demands work. When the going gets tough, you gotta be tough. Now I don’t do drugs. Now I don’t touch myself. I’m clean… I’ve got a wife… And I have four beautiful children, and a job! I used to be on food stamps, sold my soul. I was an asshole too. Used to think Ganja made me so smart. If only I could see where I’d be if I’d never touched the stuff. Now I’m a wealthy industrialist, and in my spare time I travel and teach children not to touch themselves or smoke weed. It’s been a successful campaign, but I’ve noticed that Benadryl has become a problem… People jack off on it… Wasting their lives. If only they’d see the money they could be making. The potential they have… Well, to be perfectly truthful, I did slip up the other day… Looked at porn. Crazy, exotic porn. I was like a monkey that night. Palms were sweating.
“Eh em.”
“Yes?”
The old man showed him a tape recorder. The old man’s face had changed now. No longer a destitute fool, but the king of fools. His chiseled, weathered face resembled a leprechaun’s.
“Pay up bud. I’ve got the dirt.”
“You wouldn’t!”
“It can be easy or hard. And hard is uncharted waters.”
H
HG 400
Guest
kiwifarms.net
Why are you like this?
- Registrado
- 12 de Feb, 2017
This seems like a personal account or a memoir tbh
Kratos' Beard
kiwifarms.net
- Registrado
- 6 de Jun, 2018
I'm masturbating to this.
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- 6 de Jul, 2015
Do tumors cause autism? You decide.
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- 14 de Jul, 2016
How big is your dick?
littlestclown
kiwifarms.net
- Registrado
- 5 de Ene, 2019
feeling good tonight, another post
PEPSI HAIR
Element Balls are the most prized artifacts in the galaxy. To some, theyre as good as money, an energy source, a drug, an extra 100 years on your life? Of course. All is possible with the balls. But not many knew about their true potential, creating new gods, new order. People saw only in the short term, and me? I did not care. I was a hit man, a transporter, and I wanted my money. And now im dead, and alive, a ghost, for the rest of my life.
I used to matter. Drago was who you called. Now I’m the one calling. Except no one hears. Drago Pork – a pseudonym that inspired fear. My real name? Forgotten. Lost. “Life” as a ghost is… not much of one. Reminder to anyone following Lord Zaga – don’t. Secular humanists online spout their shit, but firsthand experience, this shit works. It works too well. This world isn’t the only one – I was like Hitchens, Dawkins, the rest of those who cannot see beyond this realm. I lived for money. Cigarettes. Wasn’t into vaping. My favorite part of smoking cigarettes was the burn – coughing up black shit in the morning. I drank the foulest, cheapest shit every night, and I never brushed. That I don’t regret – a ghost doesn’t need teeth. But I digress.
Back to Zaga. You make fun, you say he’s Daedric or some crap, then you smirk with that cunt look on your face. You say that’s ironic? Your bumper sticker – “Got science”? Tyson’s a chimpanzee with an expensive suit. Roll your eyes? Let me finish. Shifting in your seat? I forget how that feels. So long roaming this parking lot and even the sensation of opening a door is comparable to the most intense orgasm – lone wolf? I once said the same. Turns out there’s more to life than cigarettes. Good luck smoking when you’re like me.
One hundred balls. Unlimited power – the thought was enticing. Arousing, even. My fetish was power. I was impotent unless I was inflicting extreme pain. I liked to watch oxygen leave a body. That felt good, but nothing was like this. I drove past Checkers and smiled at Asfan – I could see him working the window that night. I’d worked with him many times. I wanted a spicy chicken or a Big Buford, but even I was a little nervous driving around with a hundred element balls in my trunk. That was how I got the name Drago Pork – I was like a vicious boar. Mean pig. Therefore… pork! Aha, I didn’t say it was clever. Not much is. But it served its purpose. Anyway, I decided after the deal with the element balls was Big Buford time. Different sort of bun. You have to hold it with two hands, I don’t care who calls you a queer. Things like that don’t matter once you’re a ghost. My mouth was watering, but I had business. Don’t take great food for granted – you never know which meal will be your last. I parked at a nice, inconspicuous parking spot. Between Home Depot and Walmart, but closer to Walmart. Waiting for my customer to arrive, I was checking out some of the young hotties. I saw a girl who looked no older than maybe fifteen, but I was horny. The presence of the balls was giving me ideas. Not that I’d act on any of that stuff. But hell, I had done worse. You don’t earn a name like Drago Pork without turning over a few turtles and leaving them displeased. Gasping for air. I laugh still. One thing that didn’t fade when I crossed over was my sense of humor. I’ve killed kids. I’ve seen the life fade from many organisms throughout my time on both this rock and several others, but through all the bullshit you have to retain your sense of humor. There I go on another tangent.
I was getting a bit antsy. I wasn’t the nervous type. But I figured I was just high on balls. The shit was freaking me out, admittedly, and I kinda wanted this fucking occult cocksucker to hurry. I thought Zaga was just another Hindu hippie freak. Buddha was just a fat cunt in my eyes. Friend of mine once told me he didn’t care for Buddha because he “didn’t do Hindu.” But that’s for another day. I turned up NPR – the monotonous voices calmed me. News of Russia and Hillary made me laugh.
“Aha. Burn it all down!” I shouted to myself. Some feminine sounding dipshit was literally fucking crying on the radio. I didn’t much follow politics – people where I come from used to say politics followed me! I never got that joke either, but it makes sense when you’ve acquired a dirty reputation. Respect was another thing I took for granted. Even though I was hauling dangerous cargo, the faggy voices relaxed me and took me out of the moment. Then I thought about Checkers some more – I pictured myself eating. Vivid. I always had a good imagination. It was sort of like I was actually eating. Some say American cheese is flavorless, but I find it melts the way you want it to. Not saying I’m stupid, but I liked simple pleasures. I would have stepped out of the comfort zone if I’d known what was coming. But we don’t tend to have the ability to reflect on shit like that until it’s too late.
Finally I saw the car pull up. He said it’d be a brown Oldsmobile. 1985. Inconspicuous, my fucking ass. Everyone and their sister was staring at this goddamn gas guzzling piece of shit. The dark lord Zaga drove this piece of shit? I wanted to ask this fucking idiot if his clunker even had a tape player, but fuck it. Occult dipshit thinks he’s the dark lord and drives a turd, sure. I don’t give a fuck. His money was as good as anyone else’s. It’s not like you hand the cutie at Checkers a dollar bill and she asks if you got the money from some fucking retard who thinks he’s a demon. Currency! I was snickering but I had to hold it in – Zaga was getting out of the car and coming towards mine. He parked about eight spots away.
I squinted a bit and realized just how fucking stupid this guy looked. Dark lord? This guy’s a nerd. I don’t think this guy’s even seen a vagina on the internet! Christ. Black fedora. Trenchcoat. He thinks he looks fancy but he’s a fucking retard. Fuck it, though. Money! I want my goddamn money. And fast food. I lit a cig. Walk faster! It’s like this guy is aware of every move he makes. You want us to get arrested?
This dipshit got in my car. I put out my hand for him to shake it, but this autistic monster didn’t pick up on the cue. Jesus. A literalist. This guy started talking and I coughed to stifle laughter.
“I believe you have my balls.”
What?? You’re fucking kidding me. I’d never heard such a nasal, annoying voice. Dark lord? Gay lord! Dumbfuck. And I’m about to take his money.
“Oh, I got balls.” I smiled. I thought it was a good icebreaker. Zaga’s demeanor didn’t change a bit. I can’t stand people who don’t relax.
“Hand them over, please.”
It was a good thing this queer added the “please,” otherwise I would’ve bitchslapped this Dungeons and Dragons goof and just drove over to Checkers. I can get money elsewhere, and I don’t like demands.
A master of manipulation, or so I thought, I decided to work a little more charm. It hadn’t quite dawned on me just how fucking non-functioning this wizard retard really was. My next joke, usually a hit, fell flat. It was like a pepsi left in the sun for a week! Zaga looked like he washed his hair with pepsi. Sorry, I’m laughing to myself. Moving on…
“Which balls are you talking about, Zaga?” I took a long drag on my cig and smirked at this fucking idiot. No smiles.
“I believe you know what I’m referring to.”
I didn’t like this bitch, but I had to admire his no-nonsense attitude. He sort of reminded me of a gay Darth Vader. I’d only seen the Family Guy Star Wars, though. I wasn’t about to tell this kid that though. He’d cast a spell on me.
“I respect your demeanor. Allow me to retrieve… the balls of power.”
The bastard ignored me! He looked at his watch, tapped it! Yea what the fuck are you doing there, what the fuck is that supposed to do? He spoke again.
“13 seconds of my life you have wasted with your back and forth Drago.”
What the fuck did he just say to me?
“What the fuck did you just say to me pepsi bitch?”
Zaga smirked
“Tell me… is your name short for drag on and on… because you sure do take your time…”
Zaga chuckled to himself over his gay joke as Drago took the suitcase from under his seat. Drago unlocked the case and presented its contents to Zaga. Drago was suprised at Zaga’s control, he had anticipated the man to reach out and touch them, so he could slam the suitcase shut on his fingers. But Zaga looked at the balls with a bored expression, and continued on, focusing on the dirt under his fingernails.
“Well then mister drago… how much was it you wanted for those dusty old balls?...”
Drago was pissed. Who did this guy think he was? To act so dismissively in the presence of 30 element balls, it was almost offensive, and definitely creepy. Who forgets how much hes spending on element balls.
“Just transfer the money to my account cocksucker. This isn't the 1940s. You brought your phone didnt you? And youre getting on my ass for wasting time.”
Zaga still didnt make eye contact, but he smiled and pulled out his phone.
“I can assure you… mister drago… every move i make… is deliberate. Now. how much did you want for these element balls?”
“Its two million. Hell, nah, since you wanna ask questions, 2 and a half.”
Zaga nodded his head and tapped away on his phone.
“Seems a bit cheap.”
“You wanna pay more than that asshole? And hey it's not everyday i see”
“Its funny that you sell them at all, you know?”
Drago squinted at lord zaga.
“Its funny?”
“It's a bit funny, 2 million dollars is well, nothing, maybe a lot to you, someone who grew up with nothing, i'm sure this new life is something amazing… but… hah… what am i saying… you don't even know what these balls do…”
“You think i give a fuck what these balls do? You think im gonna sit here and do my best to prove to you i know what a fuckin element ball does? That pepsis gone to your fuckin head.”
“You know, I just find it funny… how many of these have you sold? For US dollars? You know this country is on its way to becoming the third world… Not a smart investment… I dont know?”
“What are you gettin at? Spit it out already cocksucker.”
“Im sure you have more… if you had simply been absorbing them well… by now youd be a God…”
“Yea is that what you tell your bullshit cult?”
“Im a man of science Drago. Its common knowledge that the balls grant users great power…”
“You think youre funny? You think im that god damn stupid? The balls are a naturally occuring power source. Nothing more, nothing less, bought by universities and private companies for experiments, power plants, and all the money that comes with em. Theyre an investment. Now if you wanna go and shove these balls up your ass, be my fuckin guest, but they aint gonna be my balls, now get the fuck out of my car!”
Zaga locked his phone.
“As you wish.”
Zaga walked back to his car and pulled away, and without Drago noticing, parked at the gas station across the road directly facing Dragos car. He waited calmly to see if his gamble had paid off.
Drago was pissed, he hated being talked down to. He was trying to cool off and tossed the suitcase to the passenger seat. The case popped open and 30 glowing balls cast a friendly glow on Drago. Upon gazing at the golden balls, he calmed down and picked one up to inspect it.
“Absorb huh?”
Drago gripped the orb and his desire intensified, the ball responded in turn, and began to glow a bright white. He felt the heat, not too uncomfortable at first, like a warm bath, and then, the euphoria shot through him. A feeling like no other.
“Fuck!! Shit!! So this is the power of the element balls?! Have I really been so blind?? All the wasted years… no… with this… I can live forever…!!! ”
Suddenly a smell, hotdogs? One dollar fries? Could it be the air outside checkers? Fuck no, there was a hint of burning now, he definitely noticed it. Drago was finally snapped out of his Dopamine induced trance by the sound of sizzling and popping. He looked down at a horrifying sight. The balls had not been absorbed properly.
“Was I not worthy?....”
It didnt matter now, his hands were fucked, his fat was bubbling and steaming, the muscles were burnt and his exposed bones had turned black. God knows what was happening but Drago knew that if he made it out of this alive hed be a cripple, no more checkers, no more respect, a parking lot space in front of walmart and sad smiles from strangers, fuck!! His mind was racing, the car horns, people enjoying their food, their loud farting, the loud spanish screaming surrounding him had begun to swirl Dragos mind as he came back to reality. Then came the pain, the ball was hot, pure energy, Dragos fucked up melted arm sent the pain in waves, like someone was nailing a molten hot spike through his arm.
“Fuck no!! This is all wrong!! I was supposed to be god!!! You were all supposed to obey me!!!”
Drago was now yelling out the window to the latino workers and the good patrons of checkers. They were amused but went back to their business. He made another attempt to get their attention, this time for help, but it was too late. The full force of the Dopamine hit Drago, and he began pissing and shitting. He began having painful orgasms, cumming in his pants over and over again, then came the muscle contractions. He felt his chest tighten up, and soon he couldnt even turn his head. His face became frozen halfway through a horrified scream D=. With his final amount of control, he looked back down to his hand at the element ball. It was nearly cool now, turning a dull silver, was it used up? Was this it?
“I cant survive this… I cant breathe… im going to fucking suffocate to death at checkers covered in my own shit!!!”
Drago then noticed the ball flash white once more, much brighter than before.
He slowly turned his eyes up to look forward. Across the street he noticed Lord Zaga, his once stoic face now stretched into a clown like grin, laughing maniacally, as if this was the best joke he had ever heard. But he noticed something in Zagas laugh, he wasnt laughing at the punchline, he was laughing in anticipation for the punchline.
“Oh god, what could be next? Please god let this end!!”
The element ball exploded. The radius of the explosion completely disintegrated everyone inside and around the checkers, leaving a crater full of rubble, bones, blood, and big bufords. Rubble and body parts rained from the sky for a bit, and in Dragos spot, there was a small brown shitstain, where a pair of underwear delicately floated down onto. The crater took out a piece of the road, effectively blocking the entrance to walmart. Cars piled up in a matter of seconds, people honking at the crater. This turned into the cars honking at eachother, and then ramming eachother into the deep crater. People got out of their cars and began to fight and claw at eachother, people fell into the pit and began to use bones and frier oil to attack each other. It was pure mayhem, and Lord Zaga had a front row seat. He was smiling in his car, rocking back and forth and whispering to himself.
“I am a fucking demon I am the fucking devil I am a fucking demon!!! Fuck!!!”
Zaga lit a cig as Police made their way to the scene, it was all unfolding so quickly, cops called for reinforcements, helicopters, rocket launchers, a massacre!
“YES!!!”, zaga screamed, “THIS IS THE TRUE POWER OF THE ELEMENT BALLS!! THIS IS WHAT THEY WERE MADE FOR!! YOU FOOL! YOU FUCKING COCK!! FUCK YOU DRAGO!! YOU ARE NOT WORTHY OF THE BALLS!! YOU FUCKING RETARD!!! I SPIT ON YOUR FUCKING GHOST, I PISS ON IT! I CUM ON IT!!”
PEPSI HAIR
Element Balls are the most prized artifacts in the galaxy. To some, theyre as good as money, an energy source, a drug, an extra 100 years on your life? Of course. All is possible with the balls. But not many knew about their true potential, creating new gods, new order. People saw only in the short term, and me? I did not care. I was a hit man, a transporter, and I wanted my money. And now im dead, and alive, a ghost, for the rest of my life.
I used to matter. Drago was who you called. Now I’m the one calling. Except no one hears. Drago Pork – a pseudonym that inspired fear. My real name? Forgotten. Lost. “Life” as a ghost is… not much of one. Reminder to anyone following Lord Zaga – don’t. Secular humanists online spout their shit, but firsthand experience, this shit works. It works too well. This world isn’t the only one – I was like Hitchens, Dawkins, the rest of those who cannot see beyond this realm. I lived for money. Cigarettes. Wasn’t into vaping. My favorite part of smoking cigarettes was the burn – coughing up black shit in the morning. I drank the foulest, cheapest shit every night, and I never brushed. That I don’t regret – a ghost doesn’t need teeth. But I digress.
Back to Zaga. You make fun, you say he’s Daedric or some crap, then you smirk with that cunt look on your face. You say that’s ironic? Your bumper sticker – “Got science”? Tyson’s a chimpanzee with an expensive suit. Roll your eyes? Let me finish. Shifting in your seat? I forget how that feels. So long roaming this parking lot and even the sensation of opening a door is comparable to the most intense orgasm – lone wolf? I once said the same. Turns out there’s more to life than cigarettes. Good luck smoking when you’re like me.
One hundred balls. Unlimited power – the thought was enticing. Arousing, even. My fetish was power. I was impotent unless I was inflicting extreme pain. I liked to watch oxygen leave a body. That felt good, but nothing was like this. I drove past Checkers and smiled at Asfan – I could see him working the window that night. I’d worked with him many times. I wanted a spicy chicken or a Big Buford, but even I was a little nervous driving around with a hundred element balls in my trunk. That was how I got the name Drago Pork – I was like a vicious boar. Mean pig. Therefore… pork! Aha, I didn’t say it was clever. Not much is. But it served its purpose. Anyway, I decided after the deal with the element balls was Big Buford time. Different sort of bun. You have to hold it with two hands, I don’t care who calls you a queer. Things like that don’t matter once you’re a ghost. My mouth was watering, but I had business. Don’t take great food for granted – you never know which meal will be your last. I parked at a nice, inconspicuous parking spot. Between Home Depot and Walmart, but closer to Walmart. Waiting for my customer to arrive, I was checking out some of the young hotties. I saw a girl who looked no older than maybe fifteen, but I was horny. The presence of the balls was giving me ideas. Not that I’d act on any of that stuff. But hell, I had done worse. You don’t earn a name like Drago Pork without turning over a few turtles and leaving them displeased. Gasping for air. I laugh still. One thing that didn’t fade when I crossed over was my sense of humor. I’ve killed kids. I’ve seen the life fade from many organisms throughout my time on both this rock and several others, but through all the bullshit you have to retain your sense of humor. There I go on another tangent.
I was getting a bit antsy. I wasn’t the nervous type. But I figured I was just high on balls. The shit was freaking me out, admittedly, and I kinda wanted this fucking occult cocksucker to hurry. I thought Zaga was just another Hindu hippie freak. Buddha was just a fat cunt in my eyes. Friend of mine once told me he didn’t care for Buddha because he “didn’t do Hindu.” But that’s for another day. I turned up NPR – the monotonous voices calmed me. News of Russia and Hillary made me laugh.
“Aha. Burn it all down!” I shouted to myself. Some feminine sounding dipshit was literally fucking crying on the radio. I didn’t much follow politics – people where I come from used to say politics followed me! I never got that joke either, but it makes sense when you’ve acquired a dirty reputation. Respect was another thing I took for granted. Even though I was hauling dangerous cargo, the faggy voices relaxed me and took me out of the moment. Then I thought about Checkers some more – I pictured myself eating. Vivid. I always had a good imagination. It was sort of like I was actually eating. Some say American cheese is flavorless, but I find it melts the way you want it to. Not saying I’m stupid, but I liked simple pleasures. I would have stepped out of the comfort zone if I’d known what was coming. But we don’t tend to have the ability to reflect on shit like that until it’s too late.
Finally I saw the car pull up. He said it’d be a brown Oldsmobile. 1985. Inconspicuous, my fucking ass. Everyone and their sister was staring at this goddamn gas guzzling piece of shit. The dark lord Zaga drove this piece of shit? I wanted to ask this fucking idiot if his clunker even had a tape player, but fuck it. Occult dipshit thinks he’s the dark lord and drives a turd, sure. I don’t give a fuck. His money was as good as anyone else’s. It’s not like you hand the cutie at Checkers a dollar bill and she asks if you got the money from some fucking retard who thinks he’s a demon. Currency! I was snickering but I had to hold it in – Zaga was getting out of the car and coming towards mine. He parked about eight spots away.
I squinted a bit and realized just how fucking stupid this guy looked. Dark lord? This guy’s a nerd. I don’t think this guy’s even seen a vagina on the internet! Christ. Black fedora. Trenchcoat. He thinks he looks fancy but he’s a fucking retard. Fuck it, though. Money! I want my goddamn money. And fast food. I lit a cig. Walk faster! It’s like this guy is aware of every move he makes. You want us to get arrested?
This dipshit got in my car. I put out my hand for him to shake it, but this autistic monster didn’t pick up on the cue. Jesus. A literalist. This guy started talking and I coughed to stifle laughter.
“I believe you have my balls.”
What?? You’re fucking kidding me. I’d never heard such a nasal, annoying voice. Dark lord? Gay lord! Dumbfuck. And I’m about to take his money.
“Oh, I got balls.” I smiled. I thought it was a good icebreaker. Zaga’s demeanor didn’t change a bit. I can’t stand people who don’t relax.
“Hand them over, please.”
It was a good thing this queer added the “please,” otherwise I would’ve bitchslapped this Dungeons and Dragons goof and just drove over to Checkers. I can get money elsewhere, and I don’t like demands.
A master of manipulation, or so I thought, I decided to work a little more charm. It hadn’t quite dawned on me just how fucking non-functioning this wizard retard really was. My next joke, usually a hit, fell flat. It was like a pepsi left in the sun for a week! Zaga looked like he washed his hair with pepsi. Sorry, I’m laughing to myself. Moving on…
“Which balls are you talking about, Zaga?” I took a long drag on my cig and smirked at this fucking idiot. No smiles.
“I believe you know what I’m referring to.”
I didn’t like this bitch, but I had to admire his no-nonsense attitude. He sort of reminded me of a gay Darth Vader. I’d only seen the Family Guy Star Wars, though. I wasn’t about to tell this kid that though. He’d cast a spell on me.
“I respect your demeanor. Allow me to retrieve… the balls of power.”
The bastard ignored me! He looked at his watch, tapped it! Yea what the fuck are you doing there, what the fuck is that supposed to do? He spoke again.
“13 seconds of my life you have wasted with your back and forth Drago.”
What the fuck did he just say to me?
“What the fuck did you just say to me pepsi bitch?”
Zaga smirked
“Tell me… is your name short for drag on and on… because you sure do take your time…”
Zaga chuckled to himself over his gay joke as Drago took the suitcase from under his seat. Drago unlocked the case and presented its contents to Zaga. Drago was suprised at Zaga’s control, he had anticipated the man to reach out and touch them, so he could slam the suitcase shut on his fingers. But Zaga looked at the balls with a bored expression, and continued on, focusing on the dirt under his fingernails.
“Well then mister drago… how much was it you wanted for those dusty old balls?...”
Drago was pissed. Who did this guy think he was? To act so dismissively in the presence of 30 element balls, it was almost offensive, and definitely creepy. Who forgets how much hes spending on element balls.
“Just transfer the money to my account cocksucker. This isn't the 1940s. You brought your phone didnt you? And youre getting on my ass for wasting time.”
Zaga still didnt make eye contact, but he smiled and pulled out his phone.
“I can assure you… mister drago… every move i make… is deliberate. Now. how much did you want for these element balls?”
“Its two million. Hell, nah, since you wanna ask questions, 2 and a half.”
Zaga nodded his head and tapped away on his phone.
“Seems a bit cheap.”
“You wanna pay more than that asshole? And hey it's not everyday i see”
“Its funny that you sell them at all, you know?”
Drago squinted at lord zaga.
“Its funny?”
“It's a bit funny, 2 million dollars is well, nothing, maybe a lot to you, someone who grew up with nothing, i'm sure this new life is something amazing… but… hah… what am i saying… you don't even know what these balls do…”
“You think i give a fuck what these balls do? You think im gonna sit here and do my best to prove to you i know what a fuckin element ball does? That pepsis gone to your fuckin head.”
“You know, I just find it funny… how many of these have you sold? For US dollars? You know this country is on its way to becoming the third world… Not a smart investment… I dont know?”
“What are you gettin at? Spit it out already cocksucker.”
“Im sure you have more… if you had simply been absorbing them well… by now youd be a God…”
“Yea is that what you tell your bullshit cult?”
“Im a man of science Drago. Its common knowledge that the balls grant users great power…”
“You think youre funny? You think im that god damn stupid? The balls are a naturally occuring power source. Nothing more, nothing less, bought by universities and private companies for experiments, power plants, and all the money that comes with em. Theyre an investment. Now if you wanna go and shove these balls up your ass, be my fuckin guest, but they aint gonna be my balls, now get the fuck out of my car!”
Zaga locked his phone.
“As you wish.”
Zaga walked back to his car and pulled away, and without Drago noticing, parked at the gas station across the road directly facing Dragos car. He waited calmly to see if his gamble had paid off.
Drago was pissed, he hated being talked down to. He was trying to cool off and tossed the suitcase to the passenger seat. The case popped open and 30 glowing balls cast a friendly glow on Drago. Upon gazing at the golden balls, he calmed down and picked one up to inspect it.
“Absorb huh?”
Drago gripped the orb and his desire intensified, the ball responded in turn, and began to glow a bright white. He felt the heat, not too uncomfortable at first, like a warm bath, and then, the euphoria shot through him. A feeling like no other.
“Fuck!! Shit!! So this is the power of the element balls?! Have I really been so blind?? All the wasted years… no… with this… I can live forever…!!! ”
Suddenly a smell, hotdogs? One dollar fries? Could it be the air outside checkers? Fuck no, there was a hint of burning now, he definitely noticed it. Drago was finally snapped out of his Dopamine induced trance by the sound of sizzling and popping. He looked down at a horrifying sight. The balls had not been absorbed properly.
“Was I not worthy?....”
It didnt matter now, his hands were fucked, his fat was bubbling and steaming, the muscles were burnt and his exposed bones had turned black. God knows what was happening but Drago knew that if he made it out of this alive hed be a cripple, no more checkers, no more respect, a parking lot space in front of walmart and sad smiles from strangers, fuck!! His mind was racing, the car horns, people enjoying their food, their loud farting, the loud spanish screaming surrounding him had begun to swirl Dragos mind as he came back to reality. Then came the pain, the ball was hot, pure energy, Dragos fucked up melted arm sent the pain in waves, like someone was nailing a molten hot spike through his arm.
“Fuck no!! This is all wrong!! I was supposed to be god!!! You were all supposed to obey me!!!”
Drago was now yelling out the window to the latino workers and the good patrons of checkers. They were amused but went back to their business. He made another attempt to get their attention, this time for help, but it was too late. The full force of the Dopamine hit Drago, and he began pissing and shitting. He began having painful orgasms, cumming in his pants over and over again, then came the muscle contractions. He felt his chest tighten up, and soon he couldnt even turn his head. His face became frozen halfway through a horrified scream D=. With his final amount of control, he looked back down to his hand at the element ball. It was nearly cool now, turning a dull silver, was it used up? Was this it?
“I cant survive this… I cant breathe… im going to fucking suffocate to death at checkers covered in my own shit!!!”
Drago then noticed the ball flash white once more, much brighter than before.
He slowly turned his eyes up to look forward. Across the street he noticed Lord Zaga, his once stoic face now stretched into a clown like grin, laughing maniacally, as if this was the best joke he had ever heard. But he noticed something in Zagas laugh, he wasnt laughing at the punchline, he was laughing in anticipation for the punchline.
“Oh god, what could be next? Please god let this end!!”
The element ball exploded. The radius of the explosion completely disintegrated everyone inside and around the checkers, leaving a crater full of rubble, bones, blood, and big bufords. Rubble and body parts rained from the sky for a bit, and in Dragos spot, there was a small brown shitstain, where a pair of underwear delicately floated down onto. The crater took out a piece of the road, effectively blocking the entrance to walmart. Cars piled up in a matter of seconds, people honking at the crater. This turned into the cars honking at eachother, and then ramming eachother into the deep crater. People got out of their cars and began to fight and claw at eachother, people fell into the pit and began to use bones and frier oil to attack each other. It was pure mayhem, and Lord Zaga had a front row seat. He was smiling in his car, rocking back and forth and whispering to himself.
“I am a fucking demon I am the fucking devil I am a fucking demon!!! Fuck!!!”
Zaga lit a cig as Police made their way to the scene, it was all unfolding so quickly, cops called for reinforcements, helicopters, rocket launchers, a massacre!
“YES!!!”, zaga screamed, “THIS IS THE TRUE POWER OF THE ELEMENT BALLS!! THIS IS WHAT THEY WERE MADE FOR!! YOU FOOL! YOU FUCKING COCK!! FUCK YOU DRAGO!! YOU ARE NOT WORTHY OF THE BALLS!! YOU FUCKING RETARD!!! I SPIT ON YOUR FUCKING GHOST, I PISS ON IT! I CUM ON IT!!”
- Registrado
- 12 de Feb, 2017
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- 5 de Ene, 2019
Excellence is not a singular act but an habit, so you keep going and eventually something will happen.
- Registrado
- 9 de Dic, 2017
I came. nut/10
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