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Old 25-01-2008, 10:31 PM   #1
Blood-Pigggy
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Join Date: Jan 2005
Location: Wilmington, United States
Posts: 2,660
Default The Craziest Thing Happened

My butler was a wiry man, he sported a twirled mustache and white hair, a pure white, much like the cocaine he probably snorted whilst I was away. And if that was not stereotypical enough, the creature was a dreary eyed thing with taut leathery flesh and a somewhat “HA HA HA, YOU ARE SUCK!” look on his face, IMPROPER GRAMMAR INTENDED. If he wasn’t polishing his tuxedo (which I have never told him to wear, but he does, for he is the spawn of the devil and his mother was a harlot, or he is old) the conniving fool was most likely incriminating me, or framing me for a crime I did not commit, whichever one makes him sound worse.

People have told me I am a paranoid man, and I usually I agree, but it’s most likely that they just say this so I won’t kill them because if I agree with something they say it makes me happy and they get all nervous and such. I wouldn’t actually kill them, but they probably think I would, that’s dumb I know, but I am a man who enjoys cookies.
As I was saying, people say I am paranoid, but in this case I’m certain my butler was up to some hideous evil that would destroy the entire existence of the universe if I discovered it, like putting his laundry in a coal mine by accident because he thought it was the dryers and killing everyone in the mine because there’s like 500 pounds of wet clothes falling onto their heads and smothering them. The dangerous smoke and dust from the coal itself wouldn’t help either.
I had reason to suspect him of such evil, the dead bodies in the freezer, his diary full of insane rantings and psychopathic visions and fantasies of pagan rituals summoning forth draconian demons from the ground as the earth splits in ear shattering roars as the pits of hell reveal themselves preceding the massacre that occurs when said demons snap our bones like pixie sticks and proceed to pour the marrow from our bones down their throat while sighing in ecstasy, like they’re feasting on sweet sugar, leaving us alive for the experience as we writhe in agony, praying for death until they snap our spines and make small toys out of the remains that they can use as really crappy gifts for their niece.
I used this passage because he was a terrible writer, obviously the use of the word “draconian” is misplaced, and improper grammar and vocabulary like this can only point to some disturbing problems that lie deep in his psyche.
If that wasn’t bad enough, the food he cooked, or baked, or however he decided to prepare his disgusting gruel for the day, often contained brains, eyeballs, human organs, or something else, it was really badly done, very chewy and tough, and I believe he was most likely plotting something against me while cooking, which would explain the carelessness that cause my broiled eyeballs to be so chewy.

I had all this evidence that something was not right, so I decided to prepare an investigation regarding his activities. I was going to begin, but Ms. Peri, who I was told is our next-door neighbor (which is very strange, according to my butler we have had around five thousand neighbors or something, maybe the smell of the intestines littering the ground outside the mansion was getting to them) was too busy screaming and wailing in my butler’s room. I don’t know what he was doing in there, but it was very inappropriate, especially considering there were other people in the house. Also, there was a very disturbing and sickening crunching sound coming from his room, which I suppose was the sound of them cracking walnuts, even though I forbid him to eat walnuts in his room. I think he was just rubbing it in my face that he liked to defy my orders by displaying the ecstasy of the wonderful taste of these walnuts with Ms. Peri who is now a total ass for engaging in his defiant behavior with him. If anything, she’s an enabler.

After I got my butler to clean out Ms. Peri’s dead body from his room (she died from a heart attack apparently, that somehow made her ribcage explode and guts fly everywhere) I decided to set up a false task for my butler to perform, hopefully something that would keep him busy for awhile so I would have enough time to reveal his evil plots that I was certain he had. I settled on sending him to the supermarket where he was to harass strangers by taking those peach cans full of that weird sticky junk, gnawing open the lids with his bare teeth, then tearing off his clothes as he proceeded to dump the contents of the can on the ground, he was to repeat this process about 20 times (although he wasn’t to put his clothes back on, that would be pointless) until he had an absolutely humungous pile of that peach junk on the ground. I told him he was to roll around in it until he was totally greasy and then he was to run around naked with a boom box playing my favorite Creedence Clearwater Revival songs.
I knew this would occupy him for a while, since the hambeasts that patrol the supermarket with their inbred redneck children were already disturbing everyone else with their outbursts of fury at their children. Usually they would beat their already misshapen child into a bloody pulp at the checkout lane while old women and hot moms would stare at the chaos. In fact, one time, a hambeast actually began to toss candy bars around, this was the closest I ever got to my dream of candy falling from the heavens, and it was good, even though I was to pay for all the candy I ate.
After he left I started my investigation in his room.

The mansion I lived in was pretty huge dude, so huge that I never managed to get out. I became lost constantly, and I finally got lost so badly in an endless labyrinth of corridors and hallways that I couldn’t find my way back. After futile hours of searching for a return to familiar ground, I gave up. I decided to stay where I was, and lived in rags and devoured rats and the like as they came by. My butler knew the lay of the home entirely (an amazing accomplishment) but he never showed me the way out, which was my first suspicion of his evil intents. I am certain my parents have died since then, if the strangely familiar rotting corpses in my closet said anything, although I’m not sure how they got in there. Maybe it was just like when you hear your favorite song on the radio when you’re in the waiting room before you got an operation for that huge steel pipe jutting out of your face, but then you figure out it’s not your favorite song and it’s something really similar that came out a few days ago and you start to get really pissed because this dumb new band totally ripped off your favorite song and you use the steel pipe in your face as a massive battering ram and shatter the glass in front of the secretary who handles all the incoming patients and stuff. Not that that ever happened to me though, but it could, it really could, so I keep myself prepared.
So I was in my butler’s room, which was pretty average, curtains, drapes (are those the same things?) a bunch of severed limbs lying around, some windows, a gaping skull fixated on each bed post, a poster of Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdome, some dead fat guy, and a bunch of human organs. He also had a bunch of red wine stains on the carpet which was sickening since it was very expensive, and there was a pretty lame picture of that satanic pentagram thing, with a bunch of blood connecting the corners. I really question his artistic skills.
So I began in the closest, which was tough because the body of the dead fat guy was blocking the way and he weighed about ten hundred pounds even with all the flesh rotting off his bones, which smelled bad as well. Almost as bad as that time I went to the public swimming pool and all the kids began peeing in the water and a bunch of nihilists ran in with super soaker guns and some other Nerf guns I don’t know the name of and shot up the place, the two incidents weren’t connected, but I thought it was a crazy coincidence since I hate children.
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