Doctor’s Diary: August 1, 2020
Due to the violent and chaotic nature of our town, it was only natural that we would be feared, and being so feared we would gain enemies. Twisted Concepts was put under martial law three times. The first was shortly after the chaos entered our realm, while everyone was still in the passion of insanity and had years of pent up inhibitions to vent. This attempt at maintaining order was small, and in the end hardly anyone noticed it. It consisted of police action; men brought in from the academy in the nearest city. They barely lasted an hour. Half of them disappeared, as they were unable to adapt to the chaos. A quarter of what was left was raped and/or murdered by the others, who then promptly began destroying themselves. It is uncertain whether any of them survived their own onslaught or the following mingling of my fellow Conceptians. If they did, then they are just like us.
After the police action never returned nor reported the results of their order, it made the authorities nervous. So they called in the military, the Marines to be exact. A couple thousand of them came into the town, carrying heavy assault weapons, gases, and even a couple of tanks. By this time the Conceptians had calmed down a bit from their own games to notice the intruders. Marines had the necessary training that a bunch of barely armed citizens out for blood shouldn’t have made a difference. However, they had two things to contend with. The first was that the psycho energy was having the same effect on them as the last raid, causing mass disappearances and insanity, causing dissension in the ranks. The second thing was that the Conceptians rushing them didn’t seem to give a shit that their fellow townspeople were being mowed down by machine gun fire. It is said that Psycho Bill had great fun that day. Also, thanks to the foresight of Psycho James, I managed to fill up my stock of top grade assault weapons, taxpayers finest. I’m pretty certain that there were a few Marines left that were incorporated into Twisted Concepts way of life.
By this time, the government realized that this wasn’t just some ordinary riot that needed some discipline. They began to greatly fear us, wondering if we would spread. They didn’t know how we had managed to take over their military. So they formed a third military action on us, this time with the air force. Their intention was not to enter the town, but to treat it as a dangerous quarantine. In other words, they bombed the hell out of us in attempt to burn away the sickness. Or at least they tried too. Once the barrier we erected around our town was set into place, it developed a kind of coincidence factor of its own. When the planes flew overhead, the bombs malfunctioned, they either refused to be released, blew up before they could be released, or fell into the town and landed as a dud. The missiles were even worse; the guidance systems screwed up and sent them just about everywhere but our town. Two of them flew into the nearest other town, about thirty miles away, and demolished a preschool and a nursing home. That was a foul-up the government had a bitch of a time smoothing over. It is also perhaps the only reason they didn’t decide to follow up with a nuke on us.
So they waited for our retaliation, and after a few months of nothing, they realized that we didn’t care. Seeing an opportunity to save face, they sent representatives to negotiate with us. The first few were stupid enough to cross the barrier, those that followed waited outside and got our attention with flares. Or rather, they got my attention. I found Psycho James and the two of us went to see what they wanted. They proposed that our town would be split from the United States, that the laws of the U.S did not apply to us, and that we would have diplomatic immunity. We would be granted this on the condition that we stay within our town. Psycho James told them to go fuck themselves. I followed up with the suggestion that the Manipulators could come and go freely, and that we would try to be as discreet as possible, and as long as no one challenged us, the body count would be minimal. I sweetened the deal by offering to let them dump all of their life imprisoned and death row criminals into our town. I reasoned that they couldn’t escape and it would keep Psycho Bill from being bored. They went away satisfied.
That was when our outside enemies began to form. There was a lot of resentment that our citizens could get away with untold horrors. All across the country, militia groups who had some undefined beef with the government and no plan to do anything about it suddenly had a target they could focus on. They blamed everything that was wrong with the country on us and vowed to assassinate any Conceptian they could. Their track records were pretty good, a few hundred suicide missions with no Conceptians killed. A few times we even had a goof and threw Preacher Bob at them, the look on their faces when he kept getting back up to lecture them on their evil ways was priceless.
Oddly enough, instead of being discouraged, the small militia groups combined and formed into three large ones. The most insistent and annoying one was the Anti-Conceptian Unified National Terminators (A-CUNT). Following on their heels was the Divine Independent Conceptian Killing Squad (DICKS) and the Liberated International Conceptian Killing Majority Youth Assassination Suicide Squad (LICKMYASS). They all provided endless entertainment, which led Psycho James to quote, “With enemies like these, who needs friends!”
Twisted Concepts: The Curse of the Animated Anomaly
Case File I-1-A-69 Part 3
A-CUNT headquarters June 6, 2008
General Richard Smoker (nicknamed Big Dick by his fellow soldiers) was the leader who had penetrated the tight walls of competition to get authority over A-CUNT. He knew his position deep inside the organization was precarious at best and that he could be squeezed out at any time by a more youthful advancer. This was because A-CUNT demanded satisfaction and if one leader didn’t provide it then another would be slipped in through the back door. Unfortunately, since the goal of the organization was to destroy the Conceptians, all A-CUNT got out of it so far was a bunch of limp ejected leaders and a huge sticky mess to clean up after each failure to please.
Still, despite the axe hanging over his head, Richard Smoker was not one to let such overwhelming failures get the best of him. He would prove successful where the others showed premature ejection. As it was, it had been months since he had assumed the position and reorganized the department. There were months without any report of Conceptian activity. He was starting to get irritated. If he could kill just one of the buggers, just one, then his position would be secure, but so far none had shown their evil faces.
So he was very gratified when an exhausted Private Perkie Apples, a lovely red headed girl in her early twenties who was indeed perky in the right places, burst into his office. She was in charge of communication relay and troop deployment organization, in other words, a secretary. Richard Smoker had been daydreaming about what it would be like to bend her over his desk ever since he had assumed the position.
“Sir, I just got a report from our field surveillance. A large white van has been spotted leaving the town clocked at speeds of upwards of 150 mph.” She panted heavily as she got her message out in one breath, causing her perky apples to bob interestingly for her superior officer’s enjoyment.
“A van, at that speed?” His eyes were locked on her bra-less jiggling chest, were those nipples he saw! Hmmm, he made a mental note to drop the temperature in his office another ten degrees the next time she was called in.
“Yes sir, our spies thought it might be Ron out for a country drive, but the vehicle actually swerved to avoid hitting a deer so they guessed it might be one of the other Manipulators, even Psycho James himself! It seems that whoever is driving the van has a destination in mind.”
General Smoker forcefully peeled his eyes off of his subordinate’s attributes and beamed an excited grin toward her.
“This is great, did they get a license plate number?”
“The van had no license plate, not that it really would have mattered if it did. However, it should be easy to find because it has large spray painted words on the side stating, ‘We Fucked Your Mother.’ Also on the back of the van is a painted mural of some pregnant woman doing unnatural acts with a horse.”
“Excellent, call the air squad and get a chopper over that van. I want those bastards to get as far away from the protection of their little town before we strike.”
“Yes sir, anything else sir.”
Oh yes, how about some good hard fucking to celebrate this good news. “No, that will be all private, just keep me abreast...er, informed of the situation.”
“Yes sir, as you say sir.” Private Perkie quickly left to do as she was ordered.
Richard was buzzed with excitement. Finally a chance to prove himself, and when he killed those arrogant Conceptians in the van, he would be able to have his way with the sexy private with impunity. He would show those bastards that you could not fuck A-CUNT and not get creamed.
Oklahoma City, Oklahoma
Snapcase McFlurdle and his ever-faithful companion Kitty were hanging out in the Quail Springs Mall. Every now and then people would gaze curiously at the equipment that was strapped to his back, but they went on their way as shopping was much more interesting. Snapcase was glad his device looked no stranger than an extremely gimmicky backpack. If anything the whole contraption could be taken for a sleek metal Supersoaker 3000 with a smaller gun nozzle.
At the moment, he was irritated. He had come to the mall for the soul purpose of getting a bite to eat and then checking to see if the local Suncoast had any new animes for sale. However, his flighty little sex pet had gotten distracted by something when he wasn’t looking and now she was god knows where. He was damned if he was going to go to customer service and have a page put out for a scantily clad cartoon catgirl. It was a good thing that people didn’t see her as she currently was, except perhaps for some imaginative children who were yet to be beat down by condescending observations of their parents.
As he was wandering the second floor of the building hoping to catch a glimpse of fur, he noticed a nun leaning against a rail. She was standing beside a pot that was set up to take donations for some orphanage. The woman was stern faced and seemed bored to tears. Snapcase guessed that she probably hadn’t gotten many donations, she was an imposing figure. Suddenly a bright idea hit him, should he?
He glanced around to see if anyone was watching him personally and then quickly whipped out the laser of his device. He fired, hitting the nun dead on.
“Early Experimental Loony!” He ordered.
The change was almost immediate. The nun’s arms and legs thinned out until they were like small flexible PVC piping. Her body bulged as it became ridiculously fat, well, not fat so much as round. Her face turned extra rosy, her eyes were enormous, and she had a big goofy smile with circular red blushes on her cheeks.
“Script generation begin. Generic script for genre type. Script end.”
The nun hopped on one foot and then to the next, pausing every now and then to bounce using her knees. Her hands were in fists and her arms were hanging far from her sides. This was the about the maximum capabilities for dancing as her generation of animation had allowed. She was the type of cartoon that was produced before the big companies began to get the hang of it and started providing quality art. In other words, she was the failed and forgotten toon, often found in the dollar ninety nine bin of your local retailer or placed inside of a crane game. One common aspect of these cartoons is that they liked to sing. Oh give, give, give To our children please Shed those nickels Please don’t tease The starving kids Need your cash So break out those wallets Or your heads I’ll smash God has mercy God has grace Won’t you help Feed a face Oh give, give, give Love, love, love And I’ll guarantee You heaven above
Her feet tap-danced on the hard bare floor as she sang. If anyone looked closely they would have noticed the taps didn’t line up with her actual foot movement. Every time she came to a pause in verse she whistled a tune quite impressively. The people passing in the mall stopped to stare at the dancing nun and laughed at her silliness. However, a lot more donations were thrown into her bucket. Snapcase walked away with a good feeling inside knowing that he had done a good deed.
The feeling was so heady that when he noticed a couple of security guards hanging out by a roasted almond stand, he immediately zapped both of them.
“After School Superhero Series. Script Generation begin, generic script for genre, script end.”
The higher ranked security guard lost all of his fat and muscles bulged out filling every inch of his spiffy cut and polished uniform. He struck a pose, his teeth gleaming as he smiled and his eyes alit with the fire of justice.
“I am Mall Cop, champion of the retail enterprise, defender of the shopping experience, and enemy of delinquent loiters.”
The other guard transformed into a teenager who was just past the hurdle of puberty. He was skinny and about a foot and a half shorter than his boss, overall he gave off the impression of a shaved monkey.
“I am Trainee, yesman to Mall Cop, here for comedic relief and to get saved once per episode by him because of the stupid situations I get myself into.”
“Er, yes, that’s nice.” Said the roasted almond saleslady. “Now were you going to buy some nuts or not.”
“Come Trainee, I see something is amiss in the food court, someone has spilled an orange smoothie on the floor, that is a criminal safety violation. Away!” Mall Cop grabbed hold of the rail leaning over the two floors below, and he jumped. To the amazement of the horrified onlookers, he landed safely a hundred feet below without breaking his stride.
“Gee wilickers Mall Cop, wait for me!” Trainee jumped over the rail and landed in a garden of artificial plants in a most undignified manner.
“What the hell is happening he...ZAP...” The saleslady was transformed into a commercial character by Snapcase. She seemed to have turned into a tiger. “Hey everybody, try our honey roasted almonds, they’rrre Grrreat!”
“Kellogg’s is so going to sue me.” Snapcase chuckled and zapped some guy manning a Verizon Wireless booth. He turned into a bird and started raving that everyone would go coocoo for rollover minutes. Snapcase began to rack his brain to think if there were any cartoon commercial characters that weren’t selling breakfast cereal.
As Snapcase quickly walked away from the scene of the crime, his eyes locked onto a group of three teenage girls, just coming out of the Gap. They were wearing midriff T-shirts that showed off their tight bellies and had jeans so snug you couldn’t fit a pencil in them. As all the blood in his brain went down to supply itself to his boner, he decided he had done enough charitable work and it was past due for some ‘him’ time! He aimed his laser and was about to turn them into Square/Enix CGI models when a loud squeal caught his attention.
“MASTER! MASTER! There you are, meorrrow!” Kitty was quickly padding up to him, waving frantically, and beaming with a happiness that could only come from dumb innocence. Many passersby stared at the yelling catgirl and at the beet-red man she was yelling at before they quickened their pace. The three teenagers giggled, whispered something about freaks, and bolted for an escalator.
“Master, Kitty so happy to find you.” Kitty wrapped him up in a bear hug. “You were lost FOREVER!”
“It’s been TEN MINUTES.” Snapcase seethed. “And couldn’t you have been just a little more discreet?”
“Oopsie, Kitty made Master mad, Kitty is bad.” Kitty’s ears lowered in shame for a brief minute before they perked up again as she completely forgot what she was being scolded about. “Ooo, Ooo, Master, Kitty find nice man, he want to meet you.”
“What?”
Snapcase looked up to realize that his idiot servant had been followed by a priest who was even now looking at them with stern eyes. His lips were curled in a sneer of disapproval.
“I was looking everywhere for Master and this nice man agreed to help Kitty find you, isn’t that great!”
“So, you’re the delinquent that poisoned this young woman’s mind into servitude.” The priest snarled. “You would do well to give up your delinquent perversions before you face the eternal judge of ERP...”
Snapcase zapped him good and hard as Kitty looked on with wide-eyed anticipation. She wondered how her generous master was going to reward the nice helpful man.
“Corrupt Hentai Priest.” Snapcase growled, still pissed off from the embarrassment and of getting royally cock blocked from those hot teenage sluts. Other than a shift in color scheme and a slight distortion on his facial features, the priest’s appearance didn’t change.
“Script Generation begin. You are a fallen priest who uses his faith as a front for a prostitution ring. You are into severe discipline. Right now, your target is Kitty, punish Kitty.”
“What?” Kitty’s ears perked up.
“Script end.”
The priest turned toward Kitty with an evil smirk, he held a long ornate crook staff that he hadn’t had previously.
“Disobedience is found in the heart of a catgirl, but the rod of correction will drive it far from her.”
“Eep!” Kitty gulped, and quickly bound off.
“Though shalt not suffer a catgirl to flee!” The priest ran after her, keeping up surprisingly well.
“No punish Kitty, no punish Kitty!” Could be heard halfway across the mall.
“Gee mom.” Said one teenage boy to his accompanying parent as they were nearly bowled over by the fleeing policewoman and the deranged priest. “It sure is weird out here today.”
“It’s probably just the crazy day sales, lets go into the Disney store.”
Psycho James actually smiled in a way that did not imply that he was going to do horrible things to your body parts. He was leaning back and enjoying a wonderful warm wetness slathering all over his johnson. Occasionally he glanced down and patted Deborah’s enthusiastic bobbing head in his lap.
“HITCHHIKER!” The Doctor yelled in his ear.
“Wha...?” THUD, THUD. “OUCH, Son of a...watch the teeth bitch!”
“Mrrrph, cough, choke (sorry)”
“Christ, damn near bit my dick off.” Psycho James growled, yanking the steering wheel to the left when he saw he was driving on the sidelines of the highway. “Now then, what the fuck were you screaming about back there?”
“Nevermind, the problem solved itself. You might want to keep your eyes on the road and not on your dick.”
“If I need your advice I’ll beat it out of you.”
“Why couldn’t I drive?” Whined Ron in the backseat.
“Isn’t it obvious dumbass. We actually have a specific destination in mind and we would like to get there in one piece if it’s alright with you.”
“Psycho Bill kill good!” Psycho Bill bounced around in his restraints, wanting to contribute to the conversation.
“Jesus, keep this freak away from me.” Ron scooted away.
“Quit your bitching pansy, you’re killing the mood.” Psycho James snapped, trying to enjoy the loud slurping sounds coming from Deborah’s mouth as she worked hard to maintain his excitement level.
“Speaking of dying.” Interrupted the Doctor. “Are you aware that we’ve been running on fumes for the last fifty miles? I think we need to find a gas station.”
“I’ll think about it.” Psycho James reached for the bottle of Captain Morgan he had been drinking from for the last ten minutes.
“You know,” said Ron. “From all the alcohol you’ve put away since we left town, you could probably give us enough fuel to reach a station by pissing in the gas tank.”
“Hmm.”
Five minute’s later...
“Ah, that’s a relief.” Psycho James tapped his dick allowing the last few drops to dribble into the gas tank.
“I was being sarcastic.” Ron informed him through an open window.
Psycho James ignored him and got back into the driver’s seat, flipped the ignition, and listened to the engine purr like a kitten.
“Yeah, now how’s that for some quality fuel.” He turned to his girlfriend.
Deborah had several thick white globs of spunk covering her face; one long strand was hanging down from her nose. She had one eye closed as a pool of semen glued it together.
“That’s fascinating honey, but can I please clean this off now.”
“No, you look like a sexy cum slut that way.” He hit the accelerator and peeled out back onto the highway, cutting off a semi which made it overturn and caused all the traffic behind it to come to a standstill for an hour.
“I wished you had at least just let me swallow it.” She grumbled.
“I don’t have any cheese to go with that whine but I have the fucking leather straps in the back if you like.” Psycho James scowled.
“Are we there yet?” Ron whined.
“Psycho Bill hungry.” Psycho Bill added.
“Don’t make me turn this van around, because I fucking will.”
“No you can’t, we’re on a mission.” The Doctor reasoned.
“When I said turn around, I meant back up, preferably with a couple of noisy babies under the tires.” He glanced meaningfully at those in the back seat. They wisely shut up. Part of the reason for it though, was because without warning, Psycho Bill’s head turned into a carrot.
“Ah shit. Another fluctuation, what the hell is going on out there now?”
Kitty moaned and writhed; her legs were locked around Snapcase’s waist as he smoothly slid in and out of her. She may have been ditzy, had a hard time following orders, had a low attention span, and caused no end of problems, but she was a first class fuck. He loved the excited little meows coming from her as she got worked up, and he was thrilled by the way she hunched her hips back at him as he took her. She was the perfect little sex kitten. This was well worth all the time an effort it took to build his transmogrifier.
After he had sent that perverted priest after Kitty to punish her for him, Snapcase attempted to search out those girls he missed out on acquiring. Unfortunately for him, he couldn’t find them anywhere. After about a half an hour of frustrated searching, he was instead reunited with Kitty. There were old tear streaks on her eyes and she walked a little funny, but she seemed very happy to see her master and had forgotten already all about her punishment. His earlier anticipation of getting some teen booty had made him horny, so to Kitty’s delight he had dragged her back to the car in the parking lot and proceeded to ravish her in the back seat. As it was he had to transform two pedestrians and a security guard into cartoons because they got to curious about why the car was rocking so heavily.
“Oh master, Kitty likes, Kitty likes, do it harder to Kitty! Merrrow!” She squealed and thrashed under him, her tail curled and brushed along his thrusting butt.
Snapcase grunted and bit at her protruding nipples, which made her even hotter. He was proud of himself. When he had first started fucking her, he would cum inside her barely before he even got the head inserted. But now with all the practice, he was becoming quite skilled at holding back his orgasms. Kitty didn’t seem to mind either way, she loved everything that he did to her, not that she remembered much of it afterward anyway except that she wanted to do it again and again.
The position was getting kind of awkward and uncomfortable so they switched around. Soon he was lying across the seats and she was straddling him, obviously thrilled because she got to bounce on him as hard and fast as she wanted.
“Meow, meow, mrrrr, meorwww, mrrrrrow!” She cried each time his dick was forced hard deep into her body. Snapcase couldn’t resist running his hands over her sides and petting her sleek fur, an action that just encouraged Kitty to fuck harder. He felt the ripple effect of her vagina that indicated she was having an orgasm. It was hard to tell otherwise because she went wild throughout the entire session.
As he was about to unload a burst of cream into her pussy, he heard some gasps, an exclamation of ‘oh my god,’ and a burst of giggles coming from outside. He reached down to grab the pistol attachment of his machine, and sat up quickly; Kitty did not lose her rhythm at all and was oblivious to the outside world.
“Hey, it’s those two freaks.” One of the voices exclaimed.
Snapcase’s eyes focused on the three sexy teenagers that he had so wanted to fuck earlier. An evil grin crossed his face as he spewed a load into the catgirl who was clinging fiercely on him. This just got interesting.
ZAP!
Psycho James pulled into a roadside gas station. Despite the fact that it was on a highway, the station did not seem to be doing much business. He ordered the Doctor to fill it up as he went inside to make some purchases.
“Bill kill?” Psycho Bill asked hopefully.
“Your ass had better stay in the car.” Psycho James pointed at Psycho Bill, who pouted for a moment and then entertained himself by remembering each of the hundred or so people he killed that week. The first thing Psycho James noticed upon entering the convenient store was that the only employee manning it at the time was an attractive redhead with gigantic knockers straining her tank-top. He took a few minutes gathering up his shit and dumped it on the counter. He took great pride in informing the clerk of each item he bought as she scanned it.
“Five candy bars, a bucket of slim jims, two 30 packs of Coors, a Penthouse magazine, six boxes of ribbed condoms, lube, and a stuffed animal.” He informed.
“Must be quite a party.” The girl fidgeted under the scrutiny of his gaze, she was feeling kind of funny with him leering over her. “That will be a $152.95 with the gas.”
“Oh sure, no problem.” Psycho James leaped over the counter and got behind the girl before she could react. His hands grabbed her big boobs and began to roughly knead them, his crotch ground against the groove of her ass barely concealed in a pair of spandex.
“What are you doing!” She squeaked as erotic tingles fired through her body, this was just wrong!
“What the hell does it look like I’m doing bitch, I’m paying for my fucking purchases, so just stand there and enjoy this.” He ordered.
“Um, yes sir.” A shiver of delight ran through her and turned her on. She wasn’t sure why, but she suddenly liked the idea of this stranger’s hands pawing all over her body. She gasped as a couple of fingers found their way into her pants and slipped into her soaking vagina. At that moment she could care less if any other customers decided to come inside, she needed to get off.
After he got her fired up, Psycho James took a moment rip open a package of ribbed condoms and turned one inside out for his own pleasure. He had no other reason to wear one, if some slut got pregnant because he dumped a gallon of seed into her snatch that was her problem. He tore her pants down off her, pushed her face and enormous boobs onto the counter knocking half the stuff off in the process, and he proceeded to drill her from behind. He thought about taking her ass, but her pussy was so tight that she must have been either a virgin or hadn’t gotten laid much in her life, so he decided to enjoy the hole he was using.
As the pretty clerk was moaning and begging to be fucked harder, Psycho James reached over to the cash register, opened it up, and took about three hundred dollars of change that he figured was owed him. She protested a little, but he slapped her ass hard, an action that made her hormones go into hysterics. The slut was a decent lay, but nothing extraordinary; if it wasn’t for the surroundings it would have been mediocre for him. After about two minutes, he pulled out and ripped off the condom, grabbed her by the hair and turned her around, pushed down on her head, and then spewed several thick white globs of semen all over her tank top and hair. He then grabbed her by the armpits, threw her on the countertop, and re-entered her pussy with his cum dribbling dick. He fucked her until he was ready to cum again.
He looked up as she thrashed ecstatically on his dick and noticed three televisions hanging over the counter. Two of them were obviously surveillance footage that was being recorded. Psycho James smirked as he flipped the bird at the cameras, he wished he could witness how she was going to explain the goings on in the tapes to her boss. The middle television was playing normal channels so she wouldn’t get bored between customers. At the moment a news program was on, showing a mall of some kind in Oklahoma City. A brief flash caught his interest and he searched for the remote to turn the mute off so he could listen to the report. He had to move the slut’s thigh out of the way to find it, but he got it without missing any rhythm.
“Pandemonium has struck the Quail Springs Mall as a seeming wave of madness has swept over it patrons. It hasn’t been confirmed what exactly has been causing the problems, but speculations are on a chemical leak of some kind. The range of symptoms among the crazy people are varied. Some of those infected break out in song and dance, others seem to run at top speed around the mall knocking everything over in their mad dashes, and still others have been caught performing lewd acts of indecency in public.” Droned the anchorman.
“Public indecency, I wonder what they mean by that.” Psycho James grinned.
“Fuck me harder, harder!” The clerk below him screamed, completely oblivious as a stranger walked into the door and dropped his jaw at the sight of what was going on at the front counter.
“We have a report from our on-the-scene reporter. Seema Bigguns, are you there?” The screen shifted to show the inside of the mall where a busty blonde reporter was holding her microphone to her lips as lovingly as if it were a cock. Psycho James figured this news program probably got pretty good ratings. In the background were several shop stands that were being run by rip-off breakfast cereal characters. Every now and then a demented priest could be seen chasing down overly buxom hentai chicks across the camera view.
“Seema Bigguns here. So far the authorities have not figured out exactly what is going on to make people so loony. We have found someone who has been dealing with the problems since they have arisen. He calls himself...” She directed her microphone over to a well-muscled cartoon security guard in a flash uniform.
“Mall Cop!” He said, striking a heroic pose.
“Yes, yes, do you have a real name?”
“What, and reveal my true identity to all my arch-villains out there! Nay, fair lady, I don’t think so.”
“Oooookay. As I understand it, you’ve encountered a lot of weirdness today, would you elaborate please.”
“Oh sure, crime has been rearing its ugly head all over this noble mall. People haven’t been throwing trash in the containers, they’ve been miss-shelving the merchandize, smoking in non-smoking areas, not reporting spills in the food court, and running willy nilly without any concern of customer flow.”
“Uh, what about the couples found in dressing rooms...”
“Oh, don’t get me started on those degenerates.” Mall Cop fumed. “Do you have any idea what those sick individuals were doing in there?”
“Well, I can guess...”
“SHOPLIFTING! That’s right, couples would go in and come back out wearing items that they didn’t have on before and just tried to walk out of the store. Ha ha, they weren’t looking out for the keen eye of Mall Cop though.”
“Is that so.” Seema Bigguns pouted, disappointed that the crime seemed so tame. In the background the priest had caught one of the cartoon girls and had bent her over a rail as he proceeded to ravish her.
“Hey!” Shouted Mall Cop as he saw them. “Don’t lean so far over the rail, you could get hurt that way!”
“Whoops, pardon me officer.” The priest said and pulled her back so they could do it doggy style on the floor.
Mall Cop turned back to the reporter. “You see what I have to put up with, having no concern for safety is a crime.”
The reporter stared at him with an open mouth, then at the rutting couple, then back at him, then at the couple. She seemed to be having trouble coming up with the words to express herself. As she was starting to stutter, Trainee ran up on screen.
“Holy Bargains Galore Mall Cop! There are people who are trying to fit beyond the safe maximum capacity in the elevator!” He cried.
“What! Not on our shift they don’t. Come Trainee, to the Mall Scooters.” The two of them ran off, leaving the reporter still watching the two vigorously fucking toons in the background.
“Son of a bitch.” Muttered Psycho James and splattered a load of seed deep into the clerks pussy. He pulled out and zipped up as she lay panting on the counter. As he was about to run out the door with his purchases, he noticed the man who had been watching them.
“There’s a special today to help increase business. She’ll fuck anyone that buys about twenty bucks worth of gasoline.”
“Really! I just filled up!”
“In that case, she’s all yours, screw away and pass on the message.” Psycho James grinned and left as the man nearly broke his legs trying to run behind the counter and unzip his pants at the same time.
“What took you so long?” The Doctor asked as he got back to the van. Psycho James shoved his purchases in the Doctors arms.
“I was enjoying some good old fashioned customer service. But fuck that, we have problems, we’re going to have to make a detour toward OKC.”
“I see, but we have even more problems than you think.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Look up.”
Psycho James looked up, trying to find what the Doctor was talking about. Eventually he saw a helicopter hovering high above them. It was painted black, and it seemed to be one of those air traffic report choppers.
“Shit! I can smell A-CUNT from a mile away. Cheap bastards, coming at us with their second hand shit. Get in the van, there’s no telling how long those peeps have been following us, so no doubt they’ve got reinforcements on the way.”
They boarded the van as quickly as they could. Psycho James went to the back and rummaged through the weapons they had stored back there.
“Ron, take the goddam wheel.”
“What?” Deborah cried. “You can’t be serious!”
“I am serious, better buckle up bitch, not that it will do any good.”
“I get to drive!” Ron grinned; his eye was beginning to twitch a bit.
“But he’ll kill us! He’ll kill us all!” Deborah said hysterically.
“Psycho Bill kill good.” Psycho Bill contributed, his carrot head was beginning to peel.
“Do you know how to drive a fucking van.”
“Well, no!”
“Then shut the fuck up. Ron, get us the hell out of here.”
Ron didn’t hesitate; he jumped behind the steering wheel and flipped on the ignition. As soon as the motor sounded, the changes occurred. Ron’s eyes got wide and red veins started to crawl across them. His muscles clenched and he began to sweat, a big vein on his forehead throbbed. The saliva in the corners of his mouth was slightly foaming up. Road Rage Ron saw the open expanse of the road and knew that it all belonged to him and that anyone else who was on it was a rat bastard that was trying to steal away his freedom. He glared with hate at the car parked by a gas pump in front of him, belonging to the lucky man inside. His teeth ground together, which have nearly flattened after all the times he had done so in his aggressive frustration. With a battle cry, he pumped on the accelerator and slammed into the car, pushing it back several feet, tipping it over, and then zoomed out of the gas station.
Psycho James was just coming back with a rocket launcher and was precariously balanced in the swerving van when he was suddenly thrown backwards as Road Rage Ron pumped the pedal harder. When Psycho James was driving, the needle on the speedometer was at its max and couldn’t read any further. With Ron, the speedometer blew up, popping out of the dashboard with a sprong, its death cries ignored by the insane driver. Blue flames shot out of the muffler.
“God Dammit! Would you make some attempt to keep this piece of shit straight.” Psycho James shouted.
“BACKSEAT DRIVING SHIT ASS SON OF A MONKEYS BALLSACK AGGGGHH SUCK SHIT!” Road Rage Ron informed him.
“I’ve had more intelligent conversations with Psycho Bill.” Psycho James said disgusted.
“Bill kill good.”
“Shut the hell up Bill.”
Psycho James did his best to get to the middle of the van and he opened up the sunroof. He peeked through it, glancing at the scenery around him, watching it flash by in a blur. He caught sight of the chopper above them, it was indeed following.
“Let’s see how you like a taste of this bitches.” He lifted the rocket launcher up with him and took careful aim.
At that moment, however, Road Rage Ron caught up with a little old lady who was going ten miles over the speed limit. However, since he was doing over a hundred past it she was like a snail. An annoying snail that did not deserve to be on the highway. In the brief second that it took to pass her slow ass, Road Rage Ron rammed her car and sent it into the guardrail. It hit, rebound, swirled in circles, and then flipped over several times at seventy miles per hour. All this happened in the split second that Psycho James pulled the trigger, causing his aim to be off. The rocket shot off course, completely missing the helicopter.
“You son of a bitch, you made me miss asshole.”
“CRAPPING MOUTHY CUNT TAMPON SHITSTAIN!” Road Rage Ron rebutted.
Far behind them a family was on their annual vacation. A mother, a father, and three kids were singing off key to a Christian cassette tape. All of a sudden the mother screamed.
“Lookout!”
The father hit the brakes just as a missile hit the road in front of them and blew up. The car flew through the flames, the wheels hitting the crater that the projectile left behind. The flaming vehicle rolled onto its back and skidded about fifty feet. Fortunately everyone was wearing their seatbelts and they were able to quickly get out of the car before anything more unfortunate happened to it. They barely managed to get to the side of the road as six black vehicles bolted around the wreckage like hounds out of hell and vanished into the distance.
“That’s it,” exclaimed the father. “Next year we are taking a plane.”
Private Perkie Apples was pissed. She was a thrill seeker, a dangerous thrill seeker. Anything that could possibly kill her and anyone else involved was like an aphrodisiac to her. The most erotic experience she had ever had in her whole life was in college when she went sky diving with a friend and they had started fucking in free fall. She had never cum so hard before and the tingle stayed with her for hours afterward when it proved that her chute opened up fine put his fucked up, leaving a nasty stain all over the field below. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about his bragging about his conquest.
She had taken hunting expeditions against dangerous animals in Africa, she had masturbated while skinny-dipping in shark-infested waters, and she even tried her hand at bull fighting. So when she heard about militias banding together to hunt the most dangerous prey of them all, she barely managed to pull her fingers out of her quim long enough to sign up.
Basic training had been fun, the drills dangerous and exciting. Her fellow cadets all had the manic personalities that she found herself sexually attracted to. It was a great thrill to bed someone dangerously and mentally unstable. She had been so looking forward to graduating and getting to the fieldwork.
Hence the reason she was pissed, the moment the training was done she was made into a damn secretary. She was hoping to convince the boss to let her go out and kick some butt, and she used her most persuasive attributes. Unfortunately, every time she had tried to convince the boss to finally send her into the hot zone, his ass would be replaced with someone new. She eventually gave up on seducing the lecherous fuckers. And lecherous they all were, there wasn’t a single commanding officer during her entire term of service that had talked to her instead of her tits. She was proud of her looks and how they managed to get her way most of the time, but in this situation they were a severe hindrance as none of her bosses wanted to risk losing their sexy trophy. Fucking the CO’s wasn’t that great either because they seemed to lack the insane drive that the lower ranked recruits had. So she refused their pathetic advances whenever the opportunity presented itself. The only way she would allow those pencil pushers to get a piece of her pussy was if they raped it. At least that would give her some thrill from the encounter. She had considered quitting on several occasions, but these were Conceptians they were hunting. Conceptians! When else would she get a chance at such an ultimate thrill.
She sighed. At least as the communications relayer she got to have a play by play account of the action in the field. At the moment it seemed the Conceptians had noticed the presence of the helicopter. Well duh, as if those flyboys could be any more obvious.
“They shot a rocket at us, but it missed. Their cursed evil luck must be running out. We’re going to get them this time.” The pilot said into his headset.
“Don’t be too cocky.” Perkie warned. “Those bastards are mischievous and tricky.”
“Don’t worry honey tits, we’ll be careful. Dare us to get low enough to drop a grenade on them?”
Perkie Apples seethed at the nickname but let it slide as she was excited by his plan. “Sure, but watch out for a second shot.”
“Yeah right, as if they have a second rock...holy shit, they have a second rocket launcher!”
This was followed by screams of “Pull up, pull up” by his passengers. Perkie was on the edge of her seat with much anticipation.
“He fired, ha, we’re too far away. Its coming so slow I can simply move out of its path of...” Short pause. “Um, Charlie, can you take over with your controls?”
Another brief pause. “Uh, no, there’s something...”
“Shit, our equipment is malfunctioning. We can’t steer this damn thing.”
“Dave, the rocket!”
“Oh god! Work damn it...WORK!!!”
A moment of terrified screams ensued just before a loud ‘Whump’ sound overwhelmed the speakers and then nothing but static. Perkie gripped the edge of her desk as her pelvis jerked uncontrollably with a quick but intense cum. Those Conceptians really knew what they were doing, it was so hot! As soon as she recovered enough from her jolly to speak without stuttering, she contacted the squad.
“Interceptor One, our surveillance team has just been shut down. I recommend you overtake the van before they switch highways.”
“We’re on it butter bosoms, Interceptor One out.”
Perkie growled. Butter bosoms? If the squad did manage to take out the Conceptians, she hoped that Interceptor One would be destroyed in the process. Chauvinist assholes.
“Well, that certainly went up in pieces quickly.” Psycho James was still sticking out of the sunroof and admiring his handiwork.
“And by the looks of it, the wreckage has just set that wheat field aflame.” The Doctor added with much interest.
“Well, you know what they say, you can’t blow A-CUNT without ruining the farming economy or some shit.”
“That made no sense, were you trying to be witty.”
“Fuck you Doc, they can’t all be gold.”
“Remind me to buy some stock in wheat futures the next time I get to a computer, I think the market price is going to go up.”
“Sure, whatever, I...hmm...well then, and here I thought it was going to be boring. It looks like we have some pursuers.” Psycho James jumped down and ran off to the back of the van and came back with a machine gun. He managed to plop in the seat next to Deborah and aimed it toward the side window.
“Hey Ron, someone’s chasing you to steal your road!”
“PUSSY HAGS TWAT POOPING FUCKHATS!” Road Rage Ron screamed in his most affronted bellow.
Ron slammed on the brakes hard, nearly burying Psycho James’ head two inches into the dashboard as the van went from near two hundred mph to a complete stop in three seconds.
“Mother fucker!” Psycho James swore, but had no time to really verbally abuse him.
Time slowed down to a crawl. As the van stopped nearly at the top of an overpass, the two nearest vehicles were taken off guard. The first one zoomed by on the right, just as Psycho James unloaded a magazine into the car at window level. A neat line of bullets burst into the vehicle, quickly filling the car with blood before its inhabitants even realized that they were fucked. Meanwhile, another car was forced to swerve into the left sideline to avoid plowing into the back of the van. Road Rage Ron anticipated this and hit the accelerator, slamming into the speeding vehicle just as it came by its side. The car careened out of control and plowed through the safety guardrail of the overpass where it had the unfortunate coincidence to land on top of a gas tanker that was driving by below. The fireball was quite impressive.
“Good work Ron.” Psycho James said in a rare moment of a complimentary mood.
“CUNT FARTS!” Road Rage Ron agreed and pumped the van back up to over a hundred mph where it belonged.
“I hate to break it to you guys.” The Doctor interrupted. “But there seems to be about four more tailing us.”
“These fucking losers never seem to learn.” Psycho James groaned.
“I have even worse news.” Deborah stammered.
“What?”
She pointed. Psycho James looked up and saw some road construction signs. They suggested that you slow down to fifty and take a nice detour lined up by a series of traffic barrels. For once in his life since the change, he went white, because he knew Road Rage Ron’s mentality in a situation like this.
“BLOCKING TURD ASS FAGGOT SHIT TACO BELL!”
“I think he just said he’s going to push through.” Deborah whimpered fearfully.
“No Shit!”
Traffic barrels went flying.
Perkie’s thighs were closed and rubbing together as she heard a couple of explosions before two signals filled with static. The room was getting filled with the musk of her arousal as the remaining cars filled her in on what happened to Interceptors One and Two. She hoped that asswipe General Smoker didn’t come out of his office right now and get a big whiff of her steaming pussy.
“They just plowed full speed into a construction zone. Crap, you should see these bastards weave past the equipment. Oooo, that’s nasty.”
“What happened?” Perkie was dying to know.
“They just hit a worker so hard he exploded.”
Perkie Apples nearly fell out of her seat as pleasure filled her. When she spoke again, it was with a husk that would be the envy of phone sex operators everywhere.
“Follow them boys, follow them and catch them. If you can kill those bastards I will be the personal sex slave of every guy on the team for a month.”
This was met with cheers and cries of enthusiasm and lewd jokes. What a bunch of idiots, she thought. There likely wouldn’t be any left alive to fuck. She eagerly awaited their reports.
The asphalt had been torn up and the road was bumpy as all hell, jostling everyone in their seats. The only one that seemed to be having fun in the turbulent ride was Psycho Bill who giggled as he bounced around. They were pleasantly surprised that Road Rage Ron had the sense not to ram into the bulldozers and other construction equipment. However, the windshield was getting rather stained with copious amounts of blood from the unwary workers. Amazingly enough, the van’s speed did not slow, if anything it picked up. The assholes were still behind them, entering after them into the construction zone. A sign whizzed past them.
“I don’t suppose you caught that sign, because I’m not sure I did.” Psycho James muttered.
“It said...it said...” Deborah stuttered.
“What did it fucking say?”
“Bridge out!”
“God damn, I thought that’s what it said. Ron, we are running out of road you fuckhead!”
“BUTT PIRATE LEAP CUM STAIN FLY GRINDING TWAT FLAPS!” He roared, going faster.
“I don’t speak ‘dumbass jargon’ asshole!”
“I think he means to jump the gap.” Deborah reasoned.
“Shit! Okay, I have an idea. Everybody hold hands and repeat after me. Give us a great big coincidence! Got that, give us a great big coincidence. With the five of us, surely jumping a downed bridge should be no problem in the fucked-up-shit department.”
The four semi-sane Manipulators did as he suggested, their chants filled up the van. Road Rage Ron just clenched the wheel hard enough to break it in chunks, ground his teeth forcefully enough to cause cracks, and pushed on the accelerator far enough to leave an indention in the floor.
The vans path suddenly became very smooth and they all felt a sense of weightlessness. After what seemed like eternity they felt a sudden thud quickly followed by another one as they hit the other side of a broken bridge spanning a river. The van was soon filled with insane laughter as they realized they had survived without a scratch.
Perkie openly masturbated as she heard an account of what went down in the construction zone. The Conceptians managed to jump a fifty-foot gap in a broken bridge over a river. Interceptor Three, filled with the bravado of seeing such a miracle done attempted to do the same. Interesting enough, it almost made it before its engine smashed against the side of the bridge as the car dropped just a little too early. Interceptor Four had slammed on its brakes and barely managed to stop just on the edge of the gap. However, it was hit by a rapidly braking Interceptor Five and the car was pushed over the edge into the river below, where it quickly sank. That left two cars on the wrong side of the road. The Conceptians had gotten away, and Perkie was left to clean up a soaking seat caused by the massive orgasm she had as she heard the screams from Interceptors Three and Four.
She sighed; the fun part was all over. Now she had to go and explain in kindergarten details exactly what happened on the field to the General. She hoped he would keep his hands to himself this time. She took her time going to his office. Once there she knocked briefly and was told to come in.
“Private Apples reporting sir. I’m afraid that we lost the Conceptians and took heavy casualties sir.” Perkie stood stiffly at attention and addressed him formally.
General Richard Smoker’s eyes glued to her thrust out tits. “I figured that would be the case, but it never hurts to try.”
“Sir?”
“Don’t worry about having lost them private, I know where they are going.”
Perkie’s estimation of the man improved upon hearing this. Most of the previous leaders would have thrown a tantrum and started accusing his underlings of incompetence, but General Smoker not only remained cool but had a source of information.
“You know where they’re going sir?”
“Yes. I’ve been watching the news. There’s been a certain pattern to the Conceptians emergence from that cursed town, and every single case involved some kind of event that the news focused on.”
“Wouldn’t any time a Conceptian is seen outside the town be considered news worthy?”
“Yes, but these events were reported before the Conceptians left the town and became involved with them. Anyway, the big issue that is being covered recently is that there seems to be a streak of people going insane, as though it is contagious. And these attacks of insanity appear to be moving due eastward. What’s really interesting is that all of these documented bouts of insanity reported on the news shows that the crazy people are cartoons. When the on-the-scene reporters get back, they recall that everything was normal except the peoples behavior, so it has been assumed that whoever is causing people to go insane is also smart enough to hack into the networks and modify the news programs to show cartoons.”
“Excuse me sir, but that seems like an awful lot of trouble for a practical joke.”
“I agree, but we know the kind of people that would do it just for the hell of it don’t we?”
“I see your point, so you believe the Conceptians are responsible for people going insane?”
“Of course, it has to, they turned everyone in their whole damned town insane didn’t they? So naturally they have to be involved with this. They’re probably trying to make the rest of the world just like them. It seems like an awfully big coincidence to be otherwise.”
“So they’re headed East, any idea of their final destination.”
“Not confirmed yet, but I have a guess. So far, whatever is happening to make people crazy is happening in small bursts along a straight line. So perhaps those involved are heading for a source that can cause change on a grander scale.”
“Such as a television station, to use its satellites to send a signal of whatever insanity causing device they’re using?”
“I like the way you think private. Look up all such power sources on the eastern border. Meanwhile, I’ll continue to keep updated to the news reports to track its progress. Dismissed.”
“Yes sir.” Perkie Apples turned away and left the office while Richard Smoker watched her ass flex with each step she took. He had been talking to her boobs throughout the entire meeting. Things were going well; soon he would have her salivating over him for his competence.
Psycho James was once again behind the wheel and his girlfriend Deborah was once again bobbing her head up and down in his lap. What better way to celebrate the victory than with a blowjob? After he blew his wad all over her tongue, he intended to be nice and eat her out, a feat that he considered to be no problem despite the fact that he would be driving the van completely blind while he was getting her off.
Road Rage Ron was passed out in the back with the cargo, compliments of a bottle of Chloroform that the Doctor had brought for exactly that occasion. That had been an interesting few seconds to go through.
“You know something Doc,” Psycho James said suddenly. “I really hope that whoever is making those cartoons is having a shitload of fun.”
“That’s pretty generous of you.”
“Because as soon as I catch up with him, he’s going to regret putting us through all of this fucking trouble.”
“Ah, figured that would be the case. I wonder what he’s doing right now?”
Snapcase McFlurdle seriously considered turning himself into a cartoon. After four hours his dick felt like he could pull it off without any trouble. Yet despite the (five? Six?) orgasms he had achieved, the girls still managed to get a stiffy out of him. At the moment, one of the turned teens, Bambi, was riding cowgirl on top of him while another, Barbi, was drowning his face with her sex sauce. The third, Baby, was in a passion filled sixty-nine with Kitty, who knew just how to work that rough tongue of hers.
Back at the mall, after he had zapped the three heckling beauties, he realized that sex with four horny hotties would not be easy or comfortable in his car. So he drove breakneck speed with them to the nearest hotel and engaged in an orgy the Romans would have been impressed with. There had only been one brief pause in the bliss when one of the people in the next room banged on his door, only to be rewarded for their discourtesy by getting zapped into a Hanna Barbara frame of mind. Now they were eternally trapped in a mindset of cheesy seventies dorks.
Having sex with CGI rendered teenagers was intriguing. They had all of the same features that they had in reality, and would have been completely taken as real except for the fact that they had no pores and their skin was smooth. While touching regular cartoons caused an interesting tingle on contact, feeling up a CGI model was like touching a warm, quivering, and responsive doll.
Barbi cried out as cunt cream spewed all over his face. He couldn’t help it, even though his dick was hurting he blasted another load into the tight confines of Bambi. She continued to ride him until he got limp and dragged out of her, fortunately enough time to achieve a jolly herself.
As he was panting, Kitty broke away from her own party and crawled over to him. She lapped as his limp sauce covered dick.
“Ah shit, no more.” He groaned.
“Master’s slaves not fully satisfied yet.” Kitty purred. “That is a bad master. Master needs to be PUNISHED!” She took him in her mouth and sucked hard.
“Fuck, don’t, no punish master, no punish master.” Snapcase cried as he felt his cock reluctantly stir once again.
“Oh yes...Punishment.” The three CGI honeys encouraged around him.
“Oooooh, I’ve created monsters.” BOING. “Shit, alright, who’s next...”
Meanwhile, later that evening, in Twisted Concepts.
Little Billy and his best friend Psycho Jeremy were drinking in a sports bar whose policy on serving alcohol to minors was that you had to be able to look over the table. Since the table was about two and a half feet tall, it was not uncommon for entire elementary school classes to be seen wandering in and getting drunk as a skunk. Billy had spent the better part of the afternoon trying to fuck his best friend’s mom, but every time he attempted it, something would come up and she would put him off until later.
As he was making his usual complaints to Psycho Jeremy, the boy serial killer asked if he would like to get laid by a gorgeous woman right now. After a hearty agreement, Psycho Jeremy whipped out a knife and slashed the throat of an attractive woman sitting at the bar next to them. As she gurgled her life away, Psycho Jeremy was quick to shed her of her clothes.
“Uh, when I said I’d like to have sex with a woman, I meant that I’d like to do it while she was alive.” Billy groaned.
“Bitch, bitch, bitch. You’re too picky.” Psycho Jeremy put his woefully false advertised Bloody Mary under the woman’s throat and filled it up before he got to the fun stuff.
As Billy’s friend was screwing around and being ignored by everyone else in the bar, Billy sighed and watched the television. It was on one of the several Conceptian owned channels that the FCC had been trying to get removed yet were entirely powerless to do so. The Conceptians wouldn’t turn it off when asked, and the FCC found that when cutting the connection or jamming the satellites the channels just kept on coming through regardless, with crystal clear reception. What was even more distressing was that the Conceptian owned channels had the greatest rating scores since the moon landing.
The show that was currently on seemed to be a new one. It consisted of one announcer in a snazzy outfit and what appeared to be a furious Preacher Bob locked inside a cage. “Welcome back to the exciting new game show, OFF PREACHER BOB.” The announcer smiled. “A show completely dedicated to killing Preacher Bob in the most brutal and offensive manner as possible. And what’s great is that YOU, the viewers at home get to play the game. The rules are simple, the viewers simply think up a horrible and possibly humorous way for this shitbag to die. Then you email the ideas to the Author, who will then pick one, possibly more, and have the winners appear on a future episode of OFF PREACHER BOB to personally do the dirty deed.”
“This is sacrilege, no true Christian would be so evil as to suggest ways to kill me!”
“Possibly that is true, but as incentive, we have some audio clips of Preacher Bob giving his views on women...”
“A righteous woman does not work, she stays at home and waits on her husband, and has his babies. Women who wear revealing clothes are whores. Any girl who has been or is a cheerleader is an unrepentant whore who is going to hell. Any woman with short hair is a lesbian.” Preacher Bob’s voice said over the speakers.
“And how about his views on men...”
“Men who do not attend church are unrighteous. Men with long hair are obviously homosexuals and will be the eternal playthings of Satan when they die. Men who have sex in any position but missionary with the lights out and for any reason but procreation with their wife are deviants and will burn forever.”
“Oh, and don’t forget education...”
“College is a hotbed of sin. Anyone taking classes involving the misleading concept of evolution is an unholy heathen. All college students are pot-smoking masturbators who fornicate with no regard to their partners gender or species. They shall all burn in hell.”
“So whip out those emails listeners, for Preacher Bob is eagerly waiting for your opinions on him.”
“Let me out of this cage, you Judas, God shalt not smile upon thee.”
The announcer did not reply, but he did turn around and began to poke him with a stick. Being as how it was a first episode, the rest of the show consisted of many more sound clips of Bob badmouthing every race and religion in existence. There was also some footage of him burning down an abortion clinic and physically assaulting a couple of lesbians with a protest sign. Little Billy guessed that the show was probably going to be quite popular for awhile.