Four persons of undisciplined gusto have broken out of what they defined as confinement. They only have vague ideas as to who they are. However, they knew from the prejudice directed to their livelihood, they were not children; but spawn.
Spawn with a bloodlust no massacre would suffice; sexual cravings not even skilled harlots could quench. These were no ordinary spawn and they wanted to know why.
The makeshift leader is by the name David; his second-in-command is by the name Victory; the intellect is by the name Madler; the worst off emotionally and out of the group is named Blyvy. David feared that he inherited his father’s complex. Victory feared she could blend in with ruthless people even if she were begging for help. Madler’s complex (though subdued on the surface) is enough to bring him to an early demise. Blyvy knew her genetic makeup would scar her from conception.
The four had sealed themselves off in a locale made notorious by their parents...the grounds of what was once the Derby Theatre. They had turned the wreckage into a cocoon of defensive mechanisms. Each had mastered a fighting technique they knew of their parents. Once all of age to embark onward from their makeshift home, they gathered their belongings and then set that wreckage house on fire.
“We have to find that bookstore and assure that nothing will be preserved.” David said. “If we do find that bookstore, what good will destroying it bring?” Victory queried. “Roots of our hubris aside, priceless physical tomes could be destroyed in the process.” Blyvy interjected, “We’d save the books worth a damn you fucking troglodyte! You’re acting like we’d burn down the entire place out of revenge. Don’t turn stupid this late in life.”
Madler was able to locate a vehicle similar to a type made famous by their parents. “What say we carjack these fuckers?” He grabbed the unsuspecting motorist, bashed his head on the steering wheel, tossed him aside and shouted “Fuck your couch!”
Blyvy congratulated him the only way she knew how. “I see you charmed your way in this piece of shit ‘motorcade’. Next time, get something that doesn’t resemble an Israeli street at 2:00”. He retorted, “Just for that you ride on the roof. Your face already looks like Seamus, so get to the roof bitch.” She spat in his face, then was promptly scolded by Victory. “Blyvy; what have I told you about spitting in a man’s face?” “Only do it if he tries to cop a feel.” she snapped back. “No, Blyvy. I didn’t say that. Don’t spit in people’s faces if you haven’t brushed your teeth first.” “Practice what you preach with a fucking toothbrush Victory. Your mouth probably has missing bodies inside.”
“If you’re done being bitches...” David began. “...which one of you has the name of the bookstore?” “I do.” Victory replied. “It’s...Mama Joseph’s.” “Mama Joseph?” Madler began. “That name sounds familiar. I swear I must’ve met her or had a glance at her before.” “How can that be?” Blyvy replied. “She’s been dead as long as we’ve been alive.” “Someone from my life that’s not my Dad told me about this woman who resisted the E-book wars. She resisted so much so, she had the balls to go on national TV and say ‘I fucking hate E-books; End the trend!” Madler said. “Sounds like Mama Joseph to me.” David began. “Now do you know where her bookstore is?” “Yes I do.” Madler replied. “It was the only one without E-books. It’s not that far from where we are now.”
They traveled in their dune buggy, but Blyvy grew uncomfortable. “Something tells me we’ve stepped into a trap.” “What the fuck are you babbling about?” Victory queried. “This isn’t booby-trapped, right Madler?” “No boobs unless I look at you and Blyvy.” he cheekily replied.
“Oh, you adorably piggish, uncouth scamp you. I’d slit your throat if you were straight.” Blyvy said. “No more bitching from anybody else!” David yelled. “I’ve been circling the bookstore for 5 minutes.” They embarked on the grounds of which their parents fed into their bloodlust. “No turning back from this point on.” Victory said.
They set foot into the surprisingly well kept bookstore. Madler scanned the grounds high and low to see if anybody was out to kill them. “Nobody’s here; nobody left bombs, landmines or other shit behind to kill us.” he said. “There has to be some kind of juju on this place. While it could protect us, it’s something we do not deserve.” He, Victory and David set up to sleep for the first time in days. Blyvy was still convinced that they would not change their fates. She examined the dune buggy Madler had hijacked. It wasn’t until examining the chassis and color, did she sense something afoot.
“This is not the car’s natural color. If this is a metallic cornflower blue, it’s over before it started.” she murmured. She scraped off the paint covering the true color of the dune buggy. As she feared, the car was a metallic cornflower blue. “Oh shit. We’ll never escape...we are slowly becoming our parents.”
Meanwhile, David was wondering about his connection to Madler. “There has to be something about him that’s had me put up with his shit this long.” he thought. When he went to turn over, he noticed a presence. A lukewarm feeling he wasn’t used to. He opened his eyes and saw Madler next to him. “Wh-what the fu...” he was shushed by Madler. “I can read thoughts...sort of. Only when someone thinks I’m sexy.” “How did you know?” David asked. “I look into mirrors when I have a chance. Now are we fucking or what?” Madler replied. Before David could answer, Madler slipped him his tongue. The sexual musk they exuded was a fusion of honey and ketchup.
The next morning, Blyvy alerted everyone of her findings. She ushered them to the garage to see how they were doomed. “Oh no...this can’t be happening.” Victory murmured. “Oh believe me, bitch. It is happening.” Blyvy said. “We’ve never been here, but something says we can locate the damn weapons case blindfolded.” Madler said. David simply announced, “I already found the case.” “What the fuck?! When were you going to let us in on this?” they said in unison. “Come with me and see what fate has fucked us over with.” David replied.
He ushered the rest of them to the weapons case. They saw the very tools of destruction that made their parents nefarious. “We could still destroy these and be cleansed of our parents’ sins, right?” Victory queried. “This message I pulled from the case does not suggest that.” David began. “It says, ‘To our kids: you will hear a lot of things about us. You’ll hear that we were and always will be hyper-violent, hypersexual, vindictive, cynical, sarcastic and cheap individuals. Let us tell you now; we are not cheap.’ How touching, right?” Blyvy said, “Keep reading the letter. I want to find out how many things I can resent against my mother.”
David kept reading the message. Even through the sexual encounters between his father and Madler’s father. “The word ‘abyss’ was a nickname and not on his birth certificate?” Victory snided. “Shut up, you whore.” Madler said. “Here’s the good stuff...or at least as good as it’s going to get for us.” David began. “It says, ‘If you want to rid of our sins from screwing you over, simply one up us.’ Oh fuck. Blyvy, you read the rest of this.” Blyvy read the remainder of the message.
“To one up us, do what we couldn’t. Obliterate the Grammy Awards for their support of lurid music. Doing this is the only way to cleanse yourselves of us.” she read. “So we’re never going to be free of them unless we make ourselves look worse than they do.” Madler said. “Damn them to hell.” Victory said.
They assumed the weapons their parents did. A bleak feeling of acceptance overcame them all. “We didn’t even try to stop this.” Blyvy noted. “We tried enough by burning down The Derby. Maybe it’s a sign that we can reverse this.” Madler said. “You might be right. Nothing in the message hinted at subtext saying we can’t beat this.” David said.
They agreed to reconvene in the morning to figure out just how to try and defeat what fate had laid out for them. However, Blyvy would be visited in her dreams by an apparition. “You are on the right track. Just don’t end up on the wrong album.” it said. “What the fuck are you talking about?!” Blyvy responded. “You will encounter two collaborators; they will both come across as gambles. Only one of them will equate to a payout.” it responded. “Did you ever screw with our parents like this?” Blyvy asked. “Ok...you really are a descendant of Catya. The lack of subtext comprehension means I can use plain English.” it replied. “Coming from something that used the phrase ‘subtext comprehension’. If you were any fuller of shit, you’d be living in a goddamn diaper genie.” Blyvy replied. “Goddamn, you’re good. Anyway, two people will claim they can help you. One will be lying out of their ass. The other will actually help you.” it said. The apparition disappeared before Blyvy could deliver another jab.
She awoke to find her cohorts surrounding her with accolades. “We only dreamed of normal stuff like having sex with hot and talented people. You dream of ripping someone a new asshole.” Madler said. “Isn’t that the same thing when you dream about David?” Victory snided. “No, bitch. That applies to when you get gangbanged by 2nd string XFL team.” he replied. “Cut it out. You two act like you’re feuding on The View. Anyway, what’d this fuck face in your dream say?” David asked.
“It said that we’d meet two people claiming they can help us out. One of them will be lying out of their ass and the other could help.” she replied.
“Well put some clothes on. We venture on from this place. Take what you can now because we are going to burn this motherfucker down.” Victory said. Blyvy replied, “Burning this place down will only make things more difficult. We’re already against our lineage. Don’t make this shit more complicated.” “She does have a point.” David began. “We just need to seek out these people. The faster the better.” “To hell with you all!” Victory shouted. As she was about to dash out, Madler confronted her.
“Alright you little bitch. I’ve had enough of you. We did not begin getting the pieces to this fucked up jigsaw puzzle, just to see one of us bail out.” he said. “Get the fuck out of my way! I don’t want to put up with this anymore!” she screamed. “Then we fight to the death. No one bails out until you die.” Madler responded.
The two prepped for their bout. David and Blyvy took refuge outside with their weapons and with what they ended up taking. “Who do you think is going to die?” Blyvy queried. “Whoever it is, they get to find out how bad our parents are in the afterlife.” David replied. They could only imagine the amount of destruction that was to take place. Madler and Victory then engaged in a two hour bout. At the 28 minute mark, Madler had lacerated Victory’s thigh. At the 47 minute mark, Victory clubbed Madler with her Desert Eagle. At the 1 hour and 15 mark, Madler delivered a swift kick to Victory’s solar plexus. At the 1 hour and 45 minute mark, Victory shot Madler in the left shoulder. At the 2 hour mark, Madler delivered the killing blow by giving Victory a “Russian Tampon”.
He emerged from the bookstore with his bloodied Halberd only saying, “Give that whore a one way ticket to hell.” The three of them then doused the bookstore in gasoline, hopped in the dune buggy and watched the bookstore made infamous by their parents, burn into the ground. “She won’t be missed. The bitch wanted an easy way out and that’s exactly what she got.” Madler uttered.
They drove for hours until they happened across a man meditating in the desert. “Pull close to him until we can rob his ass.” Blyvy said. Just when they thought they would pull an easy score, the man shouted “Don’t steal my shit until I tell you my name!” “Fuck; we’re dealing with a nutcase.” Madler said. The man spoke again, “What gives with you wanting to rob me?” “We only need whatever resources we can get off you for sustenance.” Blyvy responded. “Something tells me I can help you get something without me being robbed.” the man said. “Don’t fuck with her emotionally. She had an apparition appear before her in a dream.” David advised.
“Look...I’m not merely going to give you what I have. I have a higher purpose.” the man said. Before he could continue, Madler shot him dead. “Finally, he shut his fucking mouth. Get his shit and figure out who he was.” They gathered what they deemed “not shitty” and found that he was worth more than they thought. “Hmm; maybe we should’ve let him explain himself.” David said. “However, his piousness was enough for me to lose sympathy.” The man they had slain was named Arfur Foulksaycke. The research conducted on him showed he was an expatriate of Northern Ireland. He had been an engineer, before losing his mind and becoming a Celtic cult leader in the desert. His engineering firm that had supplied his livelihood, was the same one that had constructed the Derby and Friedan theatres (both of which were destroyed by their parents.) What they were able to rob of him was surprising. Arfur was stupid enough to have his personal financial records on him along with an envelope containing $20,000.
While success was achieved, condemnation would make an appearance. Followers of Arfur had seen everything they did. One shrieked, “Avenge the Celtic desert angel of God!”
Luckily, Arfur’s followers were as inane as he was. When they made their move, Blyvy slew them all with a single motion. One follower wasn’t dead yet, but he wanted his dying breath to be useful. “Take nothing lightly; you may have slain us, but you will not be happy. Your conquest will end with at least one more of you dying.” Before his death he only said, “You will meet the first of two soon.” “Well, now that that’s over, what say we get the fuck out of here?” David said.
They drove for hours until they would come across the city not even explored by their parents...Salieri Heights. “Where the fuck are we?” Madler asked. “Hey you! The whore with the bad fashion sense! Where the fuck are we?” Blyvy asked. When the woman turned around, everyone was floored. Her black cat mask revealed everything; the woman was Victory’s mother, Dolly...one of the parents responsible for their fates. As Dolly was about to start running, Blyvy pinned her up against a wall. “Tell us where the rest are you bitch!” she shouted. Dolly replied, “I’m the only one in this city.”
Madler sensed that Dolly was lying, but was unable to discern as to what. “We’re going to take you for a ride. That way, you have no choice but to tell us where our parents are.” he said. “Where’s my daughter?” Dolly asked. “She’s dead...by way of a ‘Russian Tampon’. Sweet girl, but had it coming once she wanted out.” Madler responded. Dolly responded with another bombshell.
“If I were really her mother, I’d gut the shit out of you.” she said.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Blyvy asked.
“It’s a bit of a story.” Dolly began. “It was when I had first joined up with the rest of your parents. I caught Carlyle fucking some random dude. She knew I was in the shadows watching all two minutes of conceiving Victory happen.”
“Yikes; two minutes?” David snided. “Carlyle wasn’t known for her taste in men. She wanted your father, McRay.” “My dad is McRay?” David asked. “Yes on that, and the fact that he is gayer than a WeHo production of Les Miserables. Also, before you ask, you’re a test tube baby.” Dolly responded. “Anyway, Carlyle and I made a deal to conceal her pregnancy. I signed a deal that when Carlyle died, I assume responsibility of the child when they reach 18.”
Dolly elaborated further, but Madler set his sights on the city they were in. “That bitch is lying her ass off.” he thought. “I’m going to find the rest of them while ‘Scheherazade’ gets her storytelling on.” He set out along the streets scouring information about their parents. Almost everyone he met either retreated out of fear or refused to help him. He then noted a passerby with a peculiar style set. “That sloppy looking street urchin will probably know something.” Madler thought. As he approached him, the street urchin looked at him and began to retreat. “Oh no you don’t bitch.” Madler said.
Madler was in for a chase. The street urchin used his familiarity to an advantage. However, Madler is known for his adaptability. The street urchin managed three exact curveballs against Madler. “This little fucker is better than I hoped.” he thought. When the street urchin tried for a fourth curveball, he discovered that his luck had run out.
A brick wall much taller than him had him cornered. “Unless you summit this bitch, your ass is mine now.” Madler said. “Damn. I thought I would’ve lost you already.” the street urchin said. “Save that shit for someone who cares.” Madler began. “Now who are you and do you know anything about these people?” He studied the picture and said, “They saved my ass once. The Derby theatre.” “How the fuck do you know about The Derby theatre?!” Madler asked.
“My name’s Kirk and I helped with The Derby and The Friedan incidents.” he said.
Meanwhile, Blyvy and David were losing patience with Dolly.
“Very nice story. Now where the fuck is our parents?” Blyvy demanded. “I haven’t seen them since I settled here when the group was disbanded.” Dolly replied. “We might’ve listened to you ramble on about your problems, but we’re not fucking stupid.” David added snidely. “I really don’t know where they could be you jackoff!” Dolly shouted. “Are you this pissed off when your boyfriend’s around?” David was shocked that Dolly knew that much about him. “How do you know...” She interrupted him saying, “I know McRay’s spawn when I see them.”
“Get to the part where you became a traveling Comedy Central roast.” Blyvy said. “Right...” Dolly began. “After our very final score at The Friedan, we ran the bookstore and toured the city as a traveling ‘round table’. Our motto was ‘round and round we go; calling all of you a prick or a ho’.” “Catchy like an STD.” David snided. Dolly continued, “Eventually, we grew bored of insulting the town on a daily basis. So we up and the left the bookstore hoping it would be looted and/or destroyed by enemies of ours with bad timing.” “Well, having it destroyed by your children must warm your heart.” Blyvy added. “It does indeed, you little bitch.” Dolly replied. “You’re just like Catya.”
She was pinned against the wall by Blyvy. “Catya’s my mother?!” she roared. “How else do you think a creepy little fucker like you ends up with the name ‘Blyvy’?” Dolly replied. “Tell us how we can beat what you’ve screwed us with!” she shouted.
“This motherfucker should know how.” Madler said.
“Kirk?” Dolly said.
“Holy hell, you’re alive.” he replied.
It turns out that they were lovers when she was still with the traveling round table. “How cute; they’re reunited lovers basking in their...oh fuck this sappy shit. Where the hell are our parents you star crossed, brain dead shells of organic matter?!” Blyvy shouted.
“I keep telling you bastards I don’t know!” Dolly said. “Where is the last place they mentioned heading to, before you settled here?” David asked. “I wanted nothing to do with them after so many years of emotional turmoil.” She replied. Madler grabbed Kirk and put the Desert Eagle to his head. “I didn’t want to use this cheap ass tactic, but you won’t make this easy.” he said. Her eyes burned with fury. “You are not using my gun to kill him, you piece of shit!”
She charged and tackled Madler for the gun. Kirk was dumb enough to try and flee, but Blyvy put him in his place. “Watch them fight and don’t do anything stupid like try and take your...” before she could finish, Madler and Dolly were engaged in loud, bare fisted combat. He fended off Dolly, but accidently fired at her. “Look out!” would be Kirk’s last words. He flew out and was hit by the bullet. “Kirk!” Dolly screamed. “You stupid motherfucker! You could’ve pulled me to the floor and had the same effect to where I didn’t get hit!” She looked at Madler with the flames of hell in her eyes. “Now it’s your turn to die you motherfucker.” As she charged again, David clubbed her on the head with a bar stool. “Now we can find out what the bitch has been hiding from us.”
They headed back to their dune buggy with Dolly in a bag and her belongings on their person. Surprisingly, she hadn’t been lying. A journal lifted from her indicated her connections from McRay, Charlie and Catya had really been frayed. However, a location had been tossed around repeatedly. Blyvy opened the bag and said to Dolly, “How much further until Pansona Chingada?” “Oh fuck.” she replied. “What? You shocked that your dumb bitch strategy wasn’t going to work?” Blyvy asked. David and Madler ushered her over to a road block.
Angry bikers and fans of Cassadee Pope insisted they get proper dues. “No one gets through us until they tell us what performance of Cassadee they love the most.” “Oh great; representatives of another Pope I can’t fucking stand.” Madler said.
They wasted little time engaging the bikers in combat. The bout lasted three hours. The bikers’ endurance was surprising to them; even more surprising was Dolly siding with them to vanquish the bikers. “Now do you believe I’m not against you?” she asked. At the 37 minute mark, Dolly ripped out the throats of two bikers. At the 1 hour and 48 minute mark, Madler and Blyvy performed the “Chisinau Crossbow” on a biker dumb enough to throw a punch at them.
Madler began by dislocating the biker’s knees with a sledgehammer. Then he smashed his ankles to a pulp to assure he wouldn’t try to flee. Blyvy’s footsteps made the biker squirm as she inched closer to finish the job. She caked him in delousing powder as she gingerly inched her mother’s weapon to his throat. The biker was foolish enough to try and resist the powder’s effect. However, when it kicked in, a violent shake of his head led to his throat being slit and gushing blood like a vampiric oasis.
At the 2 hour and 44 minute mark, David had been letting all but one of the bikers chase him. Just when the bikers thought they had him, David surprised the bikers by unleashing his fatal surprise. As he found a foxhole to hide in, the bikers plopped to their deaths by falling off a cliff. A unison of screaming Neanderthals was all that was heard as their bodies hit the ground; splattering their inferior genetic material on the desert sands.
At the 3 hour mark, the last biker would be vanquished. David, Madler, Blyvy and Dolly brought his end via a move known as “The Japanese Club Soda”. Each of them took the kanabo and delivered five swings to his body. The biker screamed, “I might be a fan of Cassadee Pope, but I don’t deserve to die like this!” “Oh yes you do.” Blyvy responded. Dolly added sinisterly, “If it makes you better, we’d kill fans of Nicholas David like this too. Now shut up and let us finish you off. You mustn’t be late for your trip to hell.” The club soda sped up the death of the biker as his agonizing pain signified his lifelessness.
Eventually, they left the scene of their crime. “Alright you little bitch.” Blyvy began. “Where the fuck is Pansona Chingada?” Dolly replied, “From where we are now about another 15 or so miles.” They drove the allotted number and soon saw the sign that welcomed them to Pansona Chingada. Madler held the Desert Eagle to Dolly’s head and said, “Get to explaining what this place meant to you in your journal.” She complied saying, “This is the last place Charlie mentioned before he and McRay broke off their connections with me in Salieri Heights.”
So they asked the locals of Pansona Chingada if they knew of McRay or Charlie’s whereabouts. One by one, all the locals did was merely recount the folklore surrounding them. Then, a passerby who had been listening had approached them. “I can help you find them.” he said. “Who are you?” David began. “If you end up fucking us over, we do want to know your name before we kill you.” He replied, “My name is Zasalamel Sardo and I remember details the residents do not.” “Like what?” Blyvy queried.
Zasalamel elaborated, recanting on a man with gunmetal gray and Arabica roast brown eyes coming through town to buy some chamomile tea for his lover. “You described one of them, so to some degree they’re not far from here.” Madler said. “They live in one of the outskirt towns to the North.” he added. “So straight out of town, head for some chintzy outskirt town?” David asked. “There are only three outskirt towns to the North. You will be able to find them.” he replied. They thanked him for his help and headed onward. Then, Blyvy grew skeptical. “Remember that fuck face from the desert saying we’d meet one of two people?” she said.
“Pull the dune buggy over.” David said to Madler. He added, “I’m going to find out if he really is the one telling the truth.” He went in to a local inn and asked for the manager. “Excuse me, sir?” he asked. “Yes, can I help you?” the manager replied. “We got directions and we need to verify them.” David said. “Ok then. Do these involve our outskirt towns?” he asked.
“Yes they do.” David began. “How many outskirt towns are to the North?” The manager showed a live stream service of updated information on the layout of Pansona Chingada. “As of today, there are zero settlements to the North. All results are verified by international bureaus of surveying and landscape.” He gave David the printout of the schematics. “Thank you sir.” he said.
He returned to the dune buggy and told them what the manager told him. “All of these are verified across the board.” Blyvy assured. “So Zasalamel must be sheltering them.” Madler said.
“No he isn’t...It was me who’d be sheltering them.” Dolly said
“You little bitch!” Blyvy said.
“You forgot to take the Bluetooth emergency device from me back in Salieri Heights.” she began. “I used its special brainwave technology to warn the others you were on to them. I told them to use Zasalamel to create a diversion. They are in Pansona Chingada.” David was furious. He grabbed Dolly and beat her against the dune buggy.
“You. treacherous. goddamn. bitch!” he said as he kicked and punched her. “What did you expect me to do?” She asked. “I’m not going to sell them out just so they can die by their children’s hands.” “So where do you really fit in all this?” Madler asked. “I was watching their property in Salieri Heights; where you found me and Kirk.” she said. “Well now you’re going to lead us to where they are in Pansona Chingada.” David said.
They made it back, Dolly’s head now affixed to a guillotine like position. “You fuck up now, we will make your last breath very short.” Blyvy began. “Every misstep you take and we punch the hell out of you.” Dolly had no missteps and complied every step of the way. She showed them to a house on the border of Pansona Chingada and the Western outskirts. “Knock on the door and see if McRay, Charlie or Catya answer; now!” Blyvy barked.
Dolly tepidly knocked on the door. The nefarious ring blade bitch, Catya answered the door. “Who the fuck did you manage to piss off in Salieri Heights?” “Three people that want to see you, McRay and Charlie.” she replied. Before Catya could put two and two together, David, Blyvy and Madler stormed in, weapons in tow. “You’re going to give us everything we need to know, or the bitch dies!” David said.
McRay and Charlie rushed out to join the fray. “Lay a finger on her and we’ll cut your journey short.” Catya said. “Let’s see you try you goddamn bitch!” Blyvy replied. She charged for Catya and surprised her with her own ferocity. Eventually, Catya was able to kick Blyvy off of her. “Only my daughter could be ruthless enough to have me wait 25 minutes for me to kick her off.” she replied. “Shut the fuck up already and give us what we deserve!” Madler yelled. Charlie saw this as warrant to charge him. The two fought for as long as Catya and Blyvy had. They managed a solid punch to each other. “Well, that was nice and pleasant. Apart from me bleeding from a punch and all.” David eyed McRay and said, “You and me now you son of bitch.” They fought for an entire hour. Kicks, punches and even spitting were just in the first ten minutes of their bout. Eventually, after breaking everything but the couch on each other, they decided they weren’t going to die a meager town like Pansona Chingada.
They all sat down in the lightly destructed living area. “Well obviously, you’re here about the note back at Mama Joseph’s.” Charlie began. “From what Dolly sent us from her Bluetooth, you burned down the place after learning of our remedy for your fates.” McRay added, “That and the fact that you killed Victory within the first few minutes of her meltdown.” Catya chimed in, “What a fucked up, but kind of well deserved death. She is of Carlyle, so death by ‘Russian Tampon’ only makes sense.”
“Get to the part of how we can reverse this shit already!” they said in unison.
“All you have to do is one up us by killing no talent schmucks at the Grammy Awards.” Charlie said. “It shouldn’t be that hard to nose out who’s talentless.” McRay added. “Let me explain this slowly, so it can process in your fucking head faster.” Madler began. “We. do. not. want. to.” Catya stood up and began explaining that a regret they had was never resolved.
“Our final score at the VMAs...it was never intended to be with those talentless sacks of shit. The Grammys had been cancelled that year because they knew we were close to them.” she said. “So you killed off talentless fuck faces at the VMAs. You were heralded for that, right?” Blyvy asked. “All we did was manage to escape. I suppose that could qualify under some type of accolades.” Catya replied. She continued, “Just kill off talentless fuck-wads at the Grammys for us and nothing bad will happen anymore.”
David re-read the note and realized that’s all they wanted. Then he had an idea. “Well, what if you all get back into this and help us rid of this shit?” Catya squirmed at the thought. “Oh fuck, he found a loophole.” “Yeah...” Blyvy began. “...if we can get you to kill them with us we can both resolve our issues.” McRay and Charlie concurred at the notion to re-establish themselves in the life. “This is probably ample time for us all.” Charlie said. “I agree; this is still the most physically prime we’ll be.” McRay added. Dolly concurred even though she had been awfully quiet.
Catya, on the other hand, was dead set against the idea. “I am not getting back in that life. You little bastards just have to do this one thing.” she said. Madler decided to wage psychological warfare on her. “Don’t tell us you’ve softened up.” She looked at him, confused at his assertion, yet aware of his tactics. “How do you form such a conclusion?” He gazed back at her saying, “You want other people to do you work for you so you don’t feel bad anymore.” “Oh really, now?” She began. “So simply because I want my name clean, I’m suddenly less ‘hardcore’? I’m doing what I am to prevent grave robbing/defacing and/or necrophilia.”
He was floored by her absurdist response. “Bitch, even alive, no man would fuck you with his eyes open.” She bit back in a way he didn’t expect. “How funny; you look like you get fucked with the lights off. J’accuse young man; j’accuse.” Thrown off, but not defeated, he responded with this. “Unlike your game, I’m on top.” Catya and even David were floored. “You must really hate me that much to throw your boyfriend in that to spite me.” She began. “Ok, I’ll get back in the game just for that.” Dolly spoke for the second time that night. “So we meet in the morning to discuss, right?”
They agreed to reconvene in the morning to set out from Pansona Chingada. However, Madler was racked with guilt over what was said. He woke David up and began apologizing. “I shouldn’t have put you through that. I was a dick and I’m sorry.” David understood him and what he had to do. “It is a nice treat to hear you admit to being such a dick. However, Catya was being an unreasonable bitch. Women’s irrationality is the number one reason men can act like dicks.” “I love your pseudo sexist ass.” Madler said. “I’m not sexist against women. Just because I don’t fuck them doesn’t mean I really hate them. If anything that makes me their ideal man because I don’t fuck them.” David replied.
The morning came as had David and Madler after their makeup romp. “What smells like ketchup and honey?” Catya asked. “That my dear is called, ‘David and Madler sitting on a spring; H-A-V-I-N-G fucked.’ It’s an acquired scent.” Blyvy replied.
They discussed plans as to how to prepare for the Grammy Award Bombardment. “All we need are a few sessions of killing off random fuck faces.” McRay began. “Any ideas how we get started?” Blyvy responded with, “There’s this terrible rapper by the name of Iggy Azalea. We can start by tracking her fans down and then subsequently giving ironic meaning to her song ‘Murda Bizness’.” Madler chimed in, “I want to kill the brain cells of yours that remember all of that.” “Then it’s settled. We have a plan.” Charlie said. They suited up and left for their quest.
McRay saw the dune buggy and lit up. “Our dune buggy! We sold that years ago! Where did you find it? And why did you find it?” “Madler carjacked it for us. Isn’t he resourceful?” David gushed. “So I see your man means the world to you too?” Charlie queried. “Gee, Holmes. You solve that one by yourself?” He retorted. “Oh for God’s sake cut the lovey-dovey shit and let’s fuck people up with weapons.” Catya commanded.
Using the LMFAO Horde phone (still surprisingly intact), they were able to learn of an event in which Iggy Azalea fans were gathering. It was for a surprise concert held by Iggy herself. “Remember; she’s a talentless slut who should be beaten to death for her crimes against the music industry.” McRay briefed. “Be more specific you troglodyte.” Blyvy said. “She’s a talentless slut in the Hip Hop and/or Rap arena who should be beaten to death.” McRay added. “Even more specific than that.” David added. “This whore who has a song called ‘Murda Bizness’.” McRay added again. “Oh that bitch.” Catya said. “Here’s our destination; cut a bitch land!” Madler evilly grinned.
They assessed the grounds before setting foot near the concert. Dolly noted, “Nothing to worry about terrain wise. It’s plain like Colbie Calliat.” “Don’t insult the word plain like that.” David retorted. “Good point. Hold on before you go gung ho.” she began. “There’s an update. ‘Winner of The Voice Season 3, Cassadee Pope, will make a surprise appearance as the opening act for Iggy Azalea.’ I’m running cross references right now.” After confirming the story’s credibility, they set course for the concert grounds, ready to kill those dumb enough to stop them.
As they approached, fans noted they were coming. Expectedly, the fans were stupid enough to fight back for talentless artists. Blyvy and Madler were able to rip off fans’ limbs like paper towels. The screams though vociferous were quite subtle (even when they were being
beaten with their own limbs). “Snap; crackle; pop!” they would say evilly. With every chant came the separation of limb from muscle tissue; the grounds becoming sanguine with inferior genetic makeup.
McRay and Charlie took things further, using more than just bare hands. McRay pistol-whipped countless people to their graves and then taking tabs of rock salt to ramp up the severe pain inflicted. Charlie sliced through the crowds with his Halberd like tenderized meat. He even managed to scrounge up enough blood to splatter on people squeamish enough to vomit their innards out to death.
David managed to etch his sick reputation in along with Dolly. He used his Sai to pierce though people’s throats. Dolly would then proceed to capture the blood in her mouth. As a disgusted crowd looked on, she held a Zippo lighter and spat the blood into it creating a sanguine flamethrower. When not using platelets, Dolly cracked necks and pistol whipped crowd members the diaphragm. David kept up his Sai technique using what’s known as the “Yakuza Toothpick”; a move that involved him piercing his Sai into someone until they would bleed from their mouth. When he grew sick of their teeth appearing bloodied, he knocked their teeth inward to where they would fall down their throats.
Yet as sick as they were, none would even contemplate what Catya did. She lacerated people, collected their intestines and force-fed their contents until they gave up and bled to death. That was a luxury to those slain by Catya. She then proceeded to resurrect her legendary “Croatian Buzzsaw”. She rushed to a ground worthy enough and jimmy rigged a work station.
Once settled, she proceeded to saw people in half; from the genitals upward. The most bombastic screams could be heard from nations halfway around the world. When she grew bored of that, she proceeded to start “jamming” her saw with the fans. The screams only registered as music to Catya. “Oh shut up.” she would say. “You all sound like Bjork singing a lullaby.” As she grew bored of that, she noticed that Iggy and Cassadee were being ushered out. “Charlie and/or Madler. Get those bitches before they escape!”
They created a diversion by killing the people escorting them out. For the crew and spawn it had worked out perfectly. Iggy and Cassadee were dragged in the chaos by the disorientation of the fans. Shoes and dysfunction led to their ends. Feet had trampled them; crushing their limbs first and then slowly depleting their air flow to nothingness. The bloodied remains of them only added a sick touch.
Hours later, the crew and spawn had finished their first collaborative effort. What was once grounds for a concert now resembled the horrors of war on every vicious battlefield throughout history.
“Did we just do this again?” McRay asked.
“Indeed we did.” Charlie replied.
“I still have all of that shit in me. Who’d’ve thunk, right?” Catya chimed.
They looked at their spawn who were traumatized and reveling in their moment. “To think most of us made them.” Dolly noted. “We need to get the fuck out of here.” McRay said. They all hopped in the dune buggy and began the journey back to Pansona Chingada.
No comments:
Post a Comment