Categories > Games > Sonic the Hedgehog > Fuck the Jesus Beam
FUCK TEH JESUS BEAM!a tengen toppa sonen tailann fic
By: LOVEPIONT3#
"You fuckging noobs I will rape whatever trees sonic wants you too... maybe."
AUTHNO: hey CUNTS! CHECK THIS MOZZAFAKIGN SHITE AWT! I MOTHERFUCKING PREAZENT 2 U... LORDGUCKLES...!
CHAPTERN RAPE: SEX IS NOT RAPE
You've seen me. Somewhere. Walking down the streets, a malign red stench, pervading the very core of your psyche. Carrying a beige box. In it are the souls of dead children, although that's such a poor name for the fetid drawings of a lost arse.
I am nowhere, and you can't stop me. I am everywhere, but you can't reach me. I am right in front of you. You reach out, hand creaking, your decrepit flesh grinding it's way out to me.
I turn around. Look. See empty streets.
The box is heavier.
I turn, and another one has already heard the calling of the RADAR. These man-things, less than puppets, more than paper dolls, they come from everywhere, vomiting their pliable feces at me- as if that could change anything.
The box grows heavier still, but it does not matter, for the electric mother calls to tissue, and it sings a song, reeking of alimony and discordia, screaming and feeling up the connective tissues.
I grow strong. Ingrow is ever stronger.
The box is almost unbearable.
I arrived at the scene of the anticrime, and began to sing.
"YOU LITTLE FUCKWITS,
OPEN YOUR EYES,
COME TO THE VALLEY OF SATAN'S SHIT,
AND DROWN IT IN YOU FECAL FUCKSTORM OF FUCKING AWESOME!"
Not much of a song...
The box bulges and groans, and a warbling fetus pops its head out, mewling in pain at the light. I have to back away. The acid coming from the pores can corrode men into slaves. It is not yet time.
The box breaks, and all fifteen children come out, each in excess of ten feet tall. They danse macabre as only unborn Fetii can, and their ribcages split open.
The scene of the anticrime stood no chance. Kaminic will never know what hit him.
KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE
OH AND FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK...
it...
wait...
what...
..
.
You've seen me. Somewhere. Walking down the streets, a malign red stench, pervading the very core of your psyche. Carrying a beige box. In it are the souls of dead children, although that's such a poor name for the fetid drawings of a lost arse.
MUTHERFUCKING END of CHAPTER RAPE.
By: LOVEPIONT3#
"You fuckging noobs I will rape whatever trees sonic wants you too... maybe."
AUTHNO: hey CUNTS! CHECK THIS MOZZAFAKIGN SHITE AWT! I MOTHERFUCKING PREAZENT 2 U... LORDGUCKLES...!
CHAPTERN RAPE: SEX IS NOT RAPE
You've seen me. Somewhere. Walking down the streets, a malign red stench, pervading the very core of your psyche. Carrying a beige box. In it are the souls of dead children, although that's such a poor name for the fetid drawings of a lost arse.
I am nowhere, and you can't stop me. I am everywhere, but you can't reach me. I am right in front of you. You reach out, hand creaking, your decrepit flesh grinding it's way out to me.
I turn around. Look. See empty streets.
The box is heavier.
I turn, and another one has already heard the calling of the RADAR. These man-things, less than puppets, more than paper dolls, they come from everywhere, vomiting their pliable feces at me- as if that could change anything.
The box grows heavier still, but it does not matter, for the electric mother calls to tissue, and it sings a song, reeking of alimony and discordia, screaming and feeling up the connective tissues.
I grow strong. Ingrow is ever stronger.
The box is almost unbearable.
I arrived at the scene of the anticrime, and began to sing.
"YOU LITTLE FUCKWITS,
OPEN YOUR EYES,
COME TO THE VALLEY OF SATAN'S SHIT,
AND DROWN IT IN YOU FECAL FUCKSTORM OF FUCKING AWESOME!"
Not much of a song...
The box bulges and groans, and a warbling fetus pops its head out, mewling in pain at the light. I have to back away. The acid coming from the pores can corrode men into slaves. It is not yet time.
The box breaks, and all fifteen children come out, each in excess of ten feet tall. They danse macabre as only unborn Fetii can, and their ribcages split open.
The scene of the anticrime stood no chance. Kaminic will never know what hit him.
KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE
OH AND FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK...
it...
wait...
what...
..
.
You've seen me. Somewhere. Walking down the streets, a malign red stench, pervading the very core of your psyche. Carrying a beige box. In it are the souls of dead children, although that's such a poor name for the fetid drawings of a lost arse.
MUTHERFUCKING END of CHAPTER RAPE.
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