265 lines
15 KiB
Plaintext
265 lines
15 KiB
Plaintext
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::::: oxic :::......:::: hock
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presents
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Fetus Takes A Day Off
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by Gross Genitalia
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Toxic File #54
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Centre of Eternity 615.552.5747 HQ of Toxic Shock and The Esoteric Society
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[TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS]
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There comes a time in every person in a tight leadership position to
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take a break. The work and responsibility becomes so great and the
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pressure forces you just to take a day or two off to relieve it all.
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Fetus the Almighty stands as no exception.
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But Fetus takes a day off whenever he fucking feels like it.
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[TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS][TS]
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Fetus had been sitting on His High Mighty White Cloud Toilet Paper Roll
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in the Sky and directed the administration of coathanger-based abortions on
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Planet Earth. He had punished those whom he despised by ordering an aborted
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or miscarriaged fetal follower to mutilate them and steal their souls for
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His pleasure and occasional use. But all of this just plain got to Fetus, and
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He felt burdened by his responsibility and told all his co-workers to fuck off
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and have a hell of a vacation. This was known as The Day That No Fetuses Were
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Decreed. No abortions were performed, no people mangled by the demonic fetuses.
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The Follower of Fetus Bloody Afterbirth was allowed to just fucking leave
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for a few days and go visit a good friend in Germany and get some Euro-Wares
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for Fetal Service. Fetal Juice took a nice Jamaican vacation, caught some rays,
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and worked on some y-modem routines for a board program. Fetus decided to
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take a daring venture to earth. But what fun would that be, if there were no
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records to show the fetality of his adventures? He decreed Gross Genitalia
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to record the events in a manuscript just as he had a manuscript of his venture
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to the future for the End of All Times. Gross and Fetus transported through
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a blazing beam of afterbirth to Planet Earth, and Gross had pen and fetus
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tissue-papyrus in hand. It went something like this.
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The Two of Fetal Power arrived at the Planet Earth place. It was dismal
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smog-covered blue-and-greenish ball of dirt. It was covered with carbon-based
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ape-descended lifeforms that seemingly knew nothing whatsoever about Life
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and Its meaning. This was noted on the Almighty Fetal Papyrus as a notable
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quality of the life of which inhabited that place where Fetus would spend his
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vacation.
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There was no need for Fetus to check into a hotel. He laughed at the idea
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of sleep and comfort. He mystically levitated a Howard Johnson's some fifty
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feet into the air. He held it there to get the attention of all the onlooking
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human-units. Cops arrived in vehicles adorned with perturbing flashing
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blue lights. Firemen arrived, as well as ambulances. Fetus had the attention
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of everyone, and decided to please them with a spectacular fireworks display.
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With the wave of his hand, Fetus blew up the Howard Johnson's, occupants
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and all. Debris was shattered for miles and miles around, killing several in
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the process. Everyone was quite impressed, for they ran away. Apparently they
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were going out among their fellow humans to notify them of this wonderful
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display of affection by an apparently unknown source.
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If Fetus and Gross were to spend their vacation in this Land of Humans,
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they might as well fit in. Fetus chanted something inaudible to Gross and
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they suddenly materialized into male human figures. Well, they decided they
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might as well fit in and check into a hotel. So they chose the Holiday Inn,
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and spared it mercy from another fireworks show.
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They rented a spectacular, sparkling Cadillac Fleetwood and drove it about
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this human town. Fetus instructed Gross not to disclose the name of this
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particular city as all worldly cities were the same, filled with completely
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unfit, unintelligent carbon lifeforms. They stopped into the most famous of
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human junk food joints, yes, over 70 billion served. McDonalds. Fetus stood
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in awe at the Great Golden Arch as he flashed back on the McDonald's
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Conspiracy. He remembered how he contrived to use "fuck-for-a-burger"
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discipleship. They entered the eating place, fully disguised as human beings,
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normal, and accepted by the humans.
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They stepped up to the counter.
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"Welcome to McDonalds! May I take your order?"
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Fetus laughed. "Heh heh sorry. Uh yes, I'd like a Big Mac, large order
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of fries, and a medium Coke."
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It felt so good to say this. An entity of much higher evolution than
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humans, a deity in his own rights, bereaving himself to human level.
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"And you sir?" The hostess addressed Gross Genitalia.
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"Yes, I'd like a 20-piece Chicken McNuggets, small fries, and an
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ice-cold Bud."
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"Sir, I'm sorry, we don't serve alcoholic beverages."
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"I WANT...a BUDWEISER. PLEASE." Gross became very stern. Fetus
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telepathically told him, "Nah, don't make a scene." Gross replied, "It shall
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be fun." Fetus smiled, and this was the only sign Gross needed.
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"Sir, we do NOT sell beer. We have coke, diet coke, Dr. Pepper..."
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"..I don't CARE what you've GOT, damnit. I want a FUCKING...BUD...BEER!"
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"If there's a problem, you can gladly speak to our manager. Please,
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control your language in front of our other customers, sir," whispered the
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hostess, as not to make a scene.
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"Get me a gaddam beer you bitch!" Gross beamed a gun in from a policeman's
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holster, who was standing out in the parking lot, by means of Fetal Tele-
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Kinesis. What's this? A .38 caliber revolver? Fetus read Gross's mind, stared
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at the revolver for a brief second, and metamorphosed it to a nice .44
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automatic.
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Gross repeated himself. "Do you have TROUBLE HEARING? I said, I WANT A
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FUCKING BEER BITCH!"
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The hostess ducked down behind the counter and punched an alarm button.
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Gross let loose a fray of shells at various employees. He saw the hostess
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scooting along behind the counter. He walked through the counter as if he were
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a ghost. The hostess urinated in her pants.
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Gross stood there grinning. "Oh I'm sorry, you don't got Bud? What a LAME
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FUCKING JOINT THIS IS!" He pulled the trigger several times inhuman
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rapidity. When the smoke cleared there was an outline of a fetus on the front
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of the lady's uniform, and she was bleeding rapidly. The fetus image removed
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itself from the body and looked at everyone in the restaurant. The ghostly
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image desecrated everything it looked at and then spontaneously combusted,
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giving off an energy so powerful it took out the entire street block.
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Fetus and Gross stood among the rubble. Fetus was bending over double in
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his human body laughing an insane laughter.
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He blinked his left eye, then his right. The rubble vanished, and so did
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they. He metamorphosed the both of them into new human identities.
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* * * *
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They decided to take their rental car and drive on. Newspapers everywhere
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were publishing stories of the destruction. Both of the Fetal Conspirators
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laughed at the headlines. "Phenomenal Powers Destroy Business Section,
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Killing Hundreds." It got them in the mood for a football game.
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They drove to the nearest stadium and hung around until some unfortunate
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souls came about to engage in a game of football. That afternoon a large
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crowd assembled in the stadium for a great game of football between the
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Broncos of Denver and the Packers of Green Bay.
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Fetus and Gross Genitalia watched the game with much curiosity. Why would
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humans be so foolish as to engage in this stupid game? It sucked. It lacked
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something. Excitement, and Fetus intended to put some into it.
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He ran down to the front and found a large pregnant lady. He gave her
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a manual abortion on the spot, killing her. He took the squirming fetus
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and ran onto the field. The fetus looked up at Fetus Almighty and smiled!
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He actually met the entity himself!
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Fetus positioned himself on the twenty-yard line andw yelled "FORE!"
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He raised the fetus high above His head and dropped it. He gave it a powerful
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punt and sent the fetus flying.
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It flew down the field and through the goal posts. It did not, however,
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stop there. It sailed over the end wall. It made a U-turn over the parking lot,
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dripping uteral fluids on someone's brand-new Lincoln Towncar. It flew back
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into the stadium like a boomerang and landed somewhere in the crowd.
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It spun about furiously, throwing off purple and red sparks, giving off a
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noise that placed itself somewhere near the highest audible point in the
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human ear's hearing spectrum.
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It violently exploded. Fetus and Gross Genitalia once again changed
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identities.
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* * * *
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This was getting pretty fucking fun. Fetus took on the role of a prestigious
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young corporate businessman. Gross took on a similar role because he wanted to
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see what really made corporate bastards tick. In fresh suits with briefcases
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loaded with nothing but Bud and dope, they entered the financial "splendor"
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of Wall Street.
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They assumed the roles of corporate heads in a major New York firm. Both had
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nice offices, inlaid with tons of little electronic gadgets and shit, voice-
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activated coffee makers and the like. What a crock of shit. Damned corporate
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bastards. This was getting dull and pretty monotonous, so they ate lunch in the
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cafeteria and left, headed for the New York Stock Exchange.
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When they arrived, the whole floor was already swarming with corporate
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bastards from all reaches of the yuppie community. Fetus and Gross laughed
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to themselves and set into buying stocks and shit for the hell of it. They
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thought they'd let them sit around and collect, then sell them, but...NAH!
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That's dull. Besides, they had all the money they wanted. It was time for
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action. Fetus opened his briefcase and began peddling cocaine to the younger
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drug-addicted yuppies. Pretty soon one bastard saw five fucking quarter bags
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stuffed in Gross Genitalia's pocket and narced on him. The cops came and got
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pretty damned rude, so Gross planted a number two polished Florsheim shoe into
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the cop's genitalia (what a coincidence!) area and pushed him to the floor.
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But he did not run, he stayed to play with the cop. He gave away free dope
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and popped open a Bud. It took about five seconds to down it and a couple
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of businessmen standing by named him the Fastest Beer Drinker on Wall Street.
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The cop got up, drew his gun, and shot Gross Genitalia point-blank betweek his eyes. Gross Genitalia fell to the floor. He reopened his eyes and laughed
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hysterically at the foolish mortal cop and his pupils turned crimson. He
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planted his other foot into another cop's foot, and pushed him backwards
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through a crowd of cheering onlookers. Fetus decided to get in on the action,
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and pulled a squirming fetus out of his briefcase. It was a little flattened,
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but nevertheless he unleashed it on the cops.
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The fetus jumped onto the first cop's forehead and bit out a big plug,
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drawing some brain fluid in the process. He leaped over and squished down into
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the other cop's pants and bit off his balls. "AAAAUUUUUGGGHHHHH! SHIIIIIT!"
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The cop crumpled to the floor in utter pain, shock, and fucking horror.
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Gross stood back and laughed, and lit up a big doob. He smoked the weed
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with elegance, and offered it to some businessmen standing near him. They
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eagerly took of the weed and got higher than a fucking kite.
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The chief of police arrived.
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"Alright you yuppie bastards, GET ON THE FLOOR!" He drew his gun and held
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it fast on Gross. Another high-ranking cop held his weapon on Fetus.
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The two paid the policemen no mind. Gross fired up another joint. Fetus
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picked the second cop up by the bloody mass where his balls had once been,
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and brushed the fetus aside. The fetus squirmed back into the briefcase and
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patiently waited. Gross tossed the chief of police a beer. The cop thought it
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was a pipe bomb and promptly shot it. The beer, which Fetus had shook up as
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a joke, mildly exploded and good cold quality beer sprayed the crowd.
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"You bastards, I said HIT THE FUCKING FLOOR!"
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Gross doubled up his fit, kneeled down, and punched a gaping hole in the
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hard floor. The cops dropped their guns in amazement. Everyone ran.
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Fetus commanded the doors to shut and lock. Everyone tried to get the fuck
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out any way they could in utter fear. Nothing worked. They were locked in,
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and many were defecating in their underpants as a sign of fear. One fellow
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began running violently through the crowd, tearing his clothes and screaming,
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"REPENT! YE SINNERS REPENT!"
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"Shut the fuck up loser, now ain't the time for your shit!" Fetus threw a
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stunning punch to the fuckhead's stomach and blew him upwards, through the
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glass and into that area where you observe the Stock Exchange, whatever the
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fuck that place is called up there. Anyway, that's where he landed. He was
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dead. Gross chuckled an evil chuckle, deep from his three hearts.
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The cops moved away. There was nothing else but to shoot the two anarchist
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businessmen from hell. They fired, round after round the guns blared, smoke
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filled the air.
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Classic story, you know the deal. The smoked cleared, and there stood
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Fetus and Gross Genitalia, laughing and discussing places where they could have
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lunch.
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"Well, I'm not hungry. Let's leave, humans are boring," said Gross.
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"Yeah, I'm not hungry either," said Fetus, "Let's get the hell outta here.
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I've got better things to do, better places to go."
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They both recited Tone Loc, "Let's DO IT!"
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They both raised their hands and the building began to shake, and started to
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crumbled before everyone's eyes. All of Wall Street could be seen sinking into
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the Earth.
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And at the most unexpected moment, New York City exploded in a nuclear
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blast of terrorism. The entire city was neutralized by an explosion of
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awesome power, conjured up by the Two Fetal Ones themselves.
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* * * *
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Fetus and Gross Genitalia returned to their headquarters at Cunt-Juice
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Womb. They picked up Fetal Juice and Bloody Afterbirth and headed off to
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spend the rest of their vacation somewhere more exciting.
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They spent three glorious days on the surface of the sun. You can guess
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the rest.
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* * * *
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(c)April 1990, Gross Genitalia.
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The Followers of Fetus Are:
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Bloody Fucking Afterbirth
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Gross Genitalia
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Fetal Juice
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