The cops were clearly nervous. The one on the right held his pistol just above his waist, not pointed at me, but he was close to doing so. I eyed them, still screaming, the one on the left winced and covered his ears like a three-year-old. To make everyone feel a little easier, I decided to switch from the blood curdling screaming to a nice sweet song. So I belted out, "De sobra sabes, que eres la primera, que no miento, si juro que daría!!!!" Their eyes widened and their jaws dropped. After a few lines, singing at the absolute top of my lungs, they both started hollering at me to stop, but I just sang louder and shut my eyes real tight, sweating and swaying to the rhythm like a god damned lounge singer on horse tranquilizers and amphetamines. "De sobra sabes, por ti la vida entera, por ti, la vida entera. Y sin embargo un rato cada día!!!!"
"PLEASE OH MY GOD MY BROTHER USED TO SING THIS SONG TO ME!!" screamed one of the cops, which only made me sing even louder. The rear window of their cruiser shattered. Oh and then they ran like little girls after my horse cock ballooned from the dumpster bin that is my crotch garage. I vomited heavily, splooging raw sewage from my rectum as I wept uncontrollably, blubbering about my parents. Later that night, I realized the cops had taken my sweet dog. That was when it got real. "Oh Debra," I whispered. "The time for pain is upon thee."
This is Tuesday, July 4, 1995.
Ok so maybe I haven't been straightforward. I spend a lot of time touting my satanic wherewithal, but honestly I'm just a buttfucking clown boy and it's not a big deal, but later that night I had broken into the evidence room of the Southwest Border Alliance public safety station in Yuma County to see if these faggot cops had taken the sexy dog boy there. Oh and Yuma is in Arizona for you fucking morons who don't know where Yuma is. Fucking crab penis children are scratching at my bearded shrunken couch pillow and bean bags.
So I'd busted into this place looking for that god damned dog and I was leaking mucus turd like a punctured bowel frog and I am banging around and jerking off and drinking a concoction of semen and beef broth and Everclear and pumping Slash's acoustic work over my earbuds. I was ripping open these safes in the evidence room thinking maybe, just maybe they hid the dog in one of them, but no, no they didn't. It was about then that the cops busted in on me. There were initially three, but when the first one saw me, he squealed and ran away shouting, "OH MY WORD IT'S A WEIRD DEMON BOY OH SHIT SOMEONE CALL RINGLING BROTHERS!!"
When I saw them, I danced around and squirted little turds from my puckered balloon end. I vomited a real nasty explosion of diarrhea and scum and I fell to a knee and shouted, "OH CHRIST WHY?" because it got all over my chinos that I'd just purchased at a Khols in New Hampshire. How could I forget those chinos? I remember buttfucking the clerk because he asked me how my day was going and it really set me off for some reason.
Anyway, I unzipped, puke all over my paws, slippery from the poop that was streaming from my stomach, and let loose my filthy gecko from hell, and chased after the two flatfoots, with my hands limp and outstretched, kinda dancing on my toes, wiggling my corndog bag to and fro like a burned water balloon. For good measure, I added another atomic explosive of starfish clam juice as I bellow out "HAIL TO THE PUP!"
It was at this point that I started honking like a fucking deranged duck and flapping my arms. I'd started weeing something awful and the orange stream was quite pungent. Christ, it smelled like boiled rat flesh mixed with foot bile and freshly barbecued dog turds. "BOOGIE WOOGIE YOU LITTLE FAGGOTS!" I belched and I went scurrying along after the terrified officers, who were now cowering under a tarp near this lopsided log pile. I wrested the tarp from atop the two and howled like a fucking psychotic monkey child then commenced a barrage of stink thwaps with my chum-filled gum baton. They were crying like little bitches and I was just hooting and hollering like a god damned fiend.
One of these troopers, the faggier one, produced a little dinky cross and held it up with his eyes shut hard. He was whispering the Lord's prayer as I ripped his head off with my teeth and spit the fucking thing down the road and it went plopping down like a fucking apple. The other trooper shouted, "BILLY NO!" and started running down the road after the head. I just laughed and decided to buy some beer. Before doing so I had to fire off a few rounds with my machine pistol just to scare the mutant bean men living in my pubes.
Anyway to make it look real I riddled the pair of dumbasses with the little Cobray 9mm automatic i had tucked in my crack and I glued the severed head back onto the body of the one cop but not before horking my goob goob into the neckhole. I'm not proud of my actions, but I was hammered. I spent the next few weeks wandering the desert, listening to Michael Jackson's Heal the World. I killed three people before coming to somehwere in Atlanta. My ass hurt and I was missing three fingers on my left hand.