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[CharlesDance]

Hey guys, I’ve just discovered this forum and I think it could be a great and wholly constructive venue at which to bring you a short story I wrote.

Before you enjoy it, I’ll give a little prologue to set the scene:

It’s a story about this guy.

Enjoy:


Once upon a time Bob smelled like cock. So he washed his cock in the sink. As he turned the tap on he got an erection and his cock got stuck in the tap. Bobs wife then walked in and divorced him because he was having sex with the sink. Bob lost his erection, but with his smelly cock washed he went off to score some pussy. Bob, however, did not score any pussy as he had a hideous face due to flames. But Bob then had a revelation; he wanted pussy, not the female attached to the pussy. “Rape” he thought, “yes, rape”.
He wondered the streets looking through the glass to the neon lit legs in the clubs with his neutral smelling cock in the clutch of his hairy palms, but he could not find any satisfactory pussy. Bob had went insane, whilst looking for just pussy he thought he could go for the ultimate pussy, the perfect pussy. Pussies can’t see his margarita pizza face or smell his waxed balls so why couldn’t he go for it?
He entered a telephone box and put the phone to his ear pretending to make a call whilst looking through the perspex scouting for pussy. “Hello” he said, “ah yes, I’d like to place an order, my friend has recently passed away and I need a tombstone. On it I would like to have the words ‘To Chris, Merry Christmas, love Bob”. Bob thought a tombstone would be a funny gift for Christmas, but was weary that it could be perceived as a bit threatening.
Suddenly bob saw it, the perfect pussy, just rejected from a club for being too young. “Tight” he thought. Bob finished his imaginary conversation and forgot about the firm ridge of where the shaft met the glans on his washed cock that was gliding through the hair of his hand. He stalked the girl with his wonky eyes as he slowly slid underneath the phone box door. The girl turned into the alleyway wiping the tears from her smooth skin smudging her mascara. “Fucking yes!” Bob thought. He pursued her round the corner into the darkness and slammed her neck against the brick wall with his forearm. Ripping her underwear off, he caressed his loins with her tight posterior, teasing himself before the kill. Feeling his smelly balls contract in the kebab tainted wind he broke his clean cock through the pussies hymen and slid through the birth canal, he humped and humped growling over the screams which only the tear stained walls were witness. Feeling his cock twitch and ecstasy approaching he punched the girl in the kidneys to make the pussy hug his cock, and with that, he came. With each twitch of his prostate the waves of ecstasy receded and washed up on the shore of reality.
The girl was limper now and Bob noticed her tears for the first time under the moon. There was a silence, and just before bob moved his rancid lips the girl spoke. “Stop” she turned delicately in the confines of the bricks and Bobs corpulent pornch, “there is no need to apologise” she continued “the reason I came out tonight, trying to get into these clubs, was to get my pussy pounded”. Bob was pulling his finger out his colon as she spoke, he didn’t know how to take her words. “Thank you” she said. “Oh” Bob announced as he finished licking his finger. “Listen” she said “I’m not a virgin anymore, that means I can get into my friends house party now, but you’ll have to come with me”. Bob rose slowly from his squat and turned curiously to see his shit, he turned to the girl and announced “sure, why not?”
As they were walking through the streets across the shiny concrete Bob got to know the girl. She was called Laura and had just turned 12, she was getting sick of the colour pink and decided she’d only keep her pigtails for another week at the most. Eleven seconds had passed since the rape when they felt the bass of the song “Don’t Hate Me Because I’m Orange” by smash hit sensation Tom Jones, they had arrived at the party. At the door the suited boys asked Bob and Laura if they were virgins, they answered no. The boy to the right of the door checked Laura’s pussy and the boy to the left checked Bobs cock, it was smelly and bloody now. Bob was surprised by the bureaucracy, he’d never been to a party before. The boys stood back and the boy to the left gave the boy to the right a thumbs up, they were in.
All around the house were young boys wearing leather chaps, they were drinking red wine and gin from crystal glasses and paying attention to each others chests. Bob turned to Laura but she was no longer there and before he knew it he was drinking wine and talking to the boys. They talked about small criminal damage they committed at the bus station and made passing mention of cocaine and heroin, but mostly they lived in the now, ‘no need for contemplation’, they could move through time with fun like no other crowd, history would tell their stories and icons they would become.
Their casual yet powerful presence startled Bob at first, but after two hours he was comfortable. He had been accepted and was conversing with the boys, he felt his shoulders relax and his disgusting face lose tension and in the midst of the ramblings he looked to write words in the distance with his minds eye. He realised that this whole debauched youth deal wasn’t so detached from his life and that he could experience it too, that what he thought was a huge void in his past was in fact a little hole that in just one night had patched up. Maybe, he thought, he could live a normal life, stop pretending his mother was his wife and get some real friends, stop pretending he wasn’t insecure and emotionally bullet proof, maybe now he could get a job and practise his hobbies without that huge weight, without feeling the need to cram things in that earlier seemed so necessary to live through yet so out of reach. Maybe now he stop raping girls, settle down and be happy. Life was going to be alright from here on out. But Bob thought wrong.
His dreamy vision had crystallised, and like his glass of gin, had smashed. Back in the real world he found himself surrounded by men in navy uniforms. It was a sting, the boys weren’t sexually promiscuous and casually untamed at all, they weren’t even boys, they were policemen.
The policemen approached Bob, hard nipples first, and handcuffed his hands behind his back. “Holy fucking shit, say what mother fucking what is this, help me or something ahh ohh crap I’ve been arrested by policemen” said Bob as he was led into the police van. Steve, the head of the operation, approached Bob through rapturous applause. “Bob, you hairy margarita faced beast, you have been arrested for statutory rape of Laura the 12 year old girl.” Laura walked into Bob’s view in the company of two policemen, “Laura, I’m . . .” Bob stopped. Laura wasn’t a girl at all but a mannequin constructed from sausages and slices of ham held together with pipe cleaners and sticky-back plastic. “You are being sentenced to death by strangulation, Bob”. Bob was very drunk, drunk enough to not remember his name was Ahmed but sober enough to realize the gravity of the situation, he knew he was going to die, “I know I’m going to die!” said Bob. Steve slammed the door of the van shut and returned to face the clapping hands of his colleagues, “thank you, this wouldn’t have been possible without some of you”, he grabbed Laura “I think I’ll take this fucking cunt home and smash the shit out of it, if you know what I mean”, the policemen laughed as Steve dragged Laura up the stairs and into the bedroom where he smashed the shit out of it.
Earlier, Steve was having troubled thoughts, he was insecure and didn’t feel adequate enough for the position he was in, but all that had gone with his new success. Steve was going to be just fine.

[Rex Taffel]

After I got half way through that I only kept reading so I would be able to comment in good faith. That story was terrible. The writing felt utilitarian and forced, like a blunt instrument used to put some truly sick thoughts on paper. If I had to guess I would say that you wrote this with the sole purpose of becoming "Internet famous" for writing something so reprehensible that even the jaded people of the Internet would take notice. I hope you fail, and I sincerely hope that you never get any positive feedback on your story that makes light of child rape to provoke a cheap sensation of shock in your readers.

[Somaut]

Tell us a story, you're the writey man
Tell us a story tonight
Well, were all in the mood for some reading
And I reckons you can tell it allright

[CharlesDance]

I hope you fail, and I sincerely hope that you never get any positive feedback on your story

I guess you’ll be pretty pissed at the news MGM just snapped it up for $50,000,000.

[Nedroid]

Congrats dude

[Mr Gale]

Is that 50 million gross or net?

[ninja]

I got about 8 words into this story and realized that I wanted to play the role of Bob.  Imagine my surprise when I found out MGM bought this for $50,000,000! 

[Zach]

MGM paid $50,000,000 for this story just so they could hide it away from human eyes forever. CharlesDance's vileness could not be so easily sealed.

[Schroeder]

The very worst part of your post had nothing at all to do with your lame attempt at being perverse:

Before you enjoy it, I’ll give a little prologue to set the scene:

It’s a story about this guy.

You fucking suck. Shut up.

[Honest Abe]

haha cocks

[Hungarian]

Once upon a time Bob smelled like cock. So he washed his cock in the sink. As he turned the tap on he got an erection and his cock got stuck in the tap. Bobs wife then walked in and divorced him because he was having sex with the sink. Bob lost his erection, but with his smelly cock washed he went off to score some pussy. Bob, however, did not score any pussy as he had a hideous face due to flames. But Bob then had a revelation; he wanted pussy, not the female attached to the pussy. “Rape” he thought, “yes, rape”

 You write like I did in 6th grade, when my friends and I would write nasty stories for entertainment. It sounds chunky and inconsistent, and it's just terrible. Did you honestly expect this to make us laugh/like you?

But Bob then had a revelation; he wanted pussy, not the female attached to the pussy. “Rape” he thought, “yes, rape”

  Just that line sounds so shittily written and idiotic. I can't really place my finger on it, but something about it really pisses me off. You're stupid and I don't like you.

[SpacePope]

CharlesDance, you hairy cock faced beast, you have been arrested for rape of the eyes of everyone unfortunate enough to look at this thread.

[Nedroid]

Wow, from $50,000,000 to being arrested.  This day has been full of ups and downs for you

[CharlesDance]

I’m glad you guys liked it. But I feel I owe an explanation to those of you who aren’t at MGM.

I’ll relate this to Borat. He once sang a song called ‘Throw the Jew Down the Well’ and everybody laughed. Granted throwing Jews down wells is quite funny, it does have some bigoted connotations, so where is the funny? The funny is in the absurdity of such sentiments being expressed in an even more bizarre frame. The frame in that particular scenario being a Kazakhstani in a cowboy outfit in a Texan bar, the absurdity being the man expressing vile sentiments in the form of a country & western song. It’s not the song that’s funny, it’s everything but.

So as you can see, I take more care making excuses for my work than I do my work. It’s a new trend I’m working on.

Another excuse is that this was written in a stream, no looking back and no editing, hence the first sentences being choppy and the rest of the story being terribly written. But I actually like it, and honestly, It's quite tame.

Oh yes, and I have mind leprosy.

The very worst part of your post had nothing at all to do with your lame attempt at being perverse:

Before you enjoy it, I’ll give a little prologue to set the scene:

It’s a story about this guy.

You fucking suck. Shut up.

I high-fived myself after I wrote that.

[Keroman]

Wow, from $50,000,000 to being arrested.  This day has been full of ups and downs for you

His night in jail is going to be full of ups and downs too.

Big Bubba had a revelation; he wanted ass, not the scrawny effeminate boy attached to the ass.  "Rape" he thought, "prison rape."

[Secret Agent]

I high-fived myself after I wrote that.

And somewhere the self-esteem fairy sheds a single tear...

[Gamoc]

Luckily, my strict 'stop reading immediately if a story begins with 'Once upon a time Bob smelled like cock.'' rule stopped me from being subjected to the rest of the...writing.

That bad, huh?

[bearbaiter]

But I actually like it, and honestly, It's quite tame.

It's not 'quite tame', as if you could have thought of anything more vile to write about then you would have, because that is the only reason you wrote this. Did you call it 'The Piano Man' for no other reason then to mislead?

Also, you are fat.

[Schroeder]

The very worst part of your post had nothing at all to do with your lame attempt at being perverse:

Before you enjoy it, I’ll give a little prologue to set the scene:

It’s a story about this guy.

You fucking suck. Shut up.

I high-fived myself after I copied down part of an old Andrew Dice Clay routine because I am an unoriginal, self-aggrandizing twat.

Fixed that for you.

[Rabid]

I’m glad you guys liked it. But I feel I owe an explanation to those of you who aren’t at MGM.

I’ll relate this to Borat. He once sang a song called ‘Throw the Jew Down the Well’ and everybody laughed. Granted throwing Jews down wells is quite funny, it does have some bigoted connotations, so where is the funny? The funny is in the absurdity of such sentiments being expressed in an even more bizarre frame. The frame in that particular scenario being a Kazakhstani in a cowboy outfit in a Texan bar, the absurdity being the man expressing vile sentiments in the form of a country & western song. It’s not the song that’s funny, it’s everything but. 

It was funny because the Rednecks in the bar started to clap and sing along. I've seen the video. One of them threw in a long "Yeehaw!"

We aren't clapping about your piss-poor attempt to rape (yes rape!) the concept of creative writing. We aren't smiling and singing along with your little charade, either. Hell, we aren't even offended, because we've been on the internet for as many years you've been in school (Thats right, over three years). Were bored, and you're boring.

In summary: EAT A DICK BUFFET YOU WORM.