*click*. The lighter went off in the darkened room. A small yet bright flame, like our sun in comparison to the gaseous mammoth giants in the universe, embraced the end of the cancer-stick. He pouted his big lips, took a long drag, and exhaled like a dormant dragon. “That’s good stuff, the best, lemme tell ya,” he said to himself. He leaned back in his leather chair, which creaked against the weight of his fat pompous ass looking like a freshly roasted ham, as he sat in his Oval Office. Continue reading
The kids down the street feared it. It’s gothic architecture would scare the pants off anybody, and those kids were scared shitless. In fact, it was that fear that drove them to create their little twisted game.
There was little Johnny Parker. He was sitting on his little bike right outside the house with his two other nimrod friends, Danny and Casey. “My brother said he went inside once, and there was a crazy old man that almost attacked him!” Said little Casey, his eyes magnified by his glasses. “No way,” exclaimed Danny, “my sister says this house was owned by this rich guy who built it for his wife.” Continue reading