Shakespeare's Lost Play.avi.exe.jpg
This is my first ever Trollpasta so please don’t hate on it. I know it’s kinda long, but it’s really worth the read. Thanks.
I was at Gamestop recently looking for a copy of Starfox 64. I asked the clerk and he said they had a copy. He went in the back to get it and came back with something strange. It was a VHS sleeve that said “Strfux 69” and had a picture of Chaz Bono flying a Star Wars styled pod racer. It made me sick. He told me it was free so naturally I took it, considering how I’m a cheap fuck.
I got home and popped the tape into my Xbox and plugged in my favorite Gamecube usb controller. It wasn’t long before I realized that it wasn’t Starfox 64, or even a video game for that matter. I thought it might be gay porn so I whipped out the Jergens and the tissues just in case. With my dick fully erect and my hopes sky-high, I saw that it wasn’t even gay porn. I was so mad that I sucked my own shorty. 3 seconds passed and I came. It was so shocking to me considering how it took 3 seconds. It usually takes 2. I put my dick away and pressed play.
A title showed up on the screen saying “Shaykspeerz Lost Plaee”. I laughed very hard at it because they misspelled “lost”. After the title went away, a new title came up and said “The Tragedy of Dicknose Strombolli, Prince of Sextopia”.
I think vomited at that point, but I’m not sure. This was long ago so I hardly remember. However, I memorized the entire thing so I’ll just type it out for you. Lolz I has good memory!
Act 1
Morgan Freeman: We find ourselves in the troublesome kingdom of Sextopia, land of mistresses. An unholy ass-fucking accrued about 3 days ago. Prince Dicknose lost his mother in the events that took place. We find him grieving and masturbating at the same damn time.
Enter Fifa.
Fifa: My prince, my prince? Where art thou?
Dicknose: Here I am.
Fifa: My prince, what might ye be up to?
Dicknose: Can’t you see my tally drips of the most satisfactory juices?
Fifa: I see. Why is it so small?
Dicknose: I’ll have you know that it’s almost 3 inches!
Fifa: Eye, my prince. I must be off. Good eve!
Dicknose: Good eve to you as well, Fifa.
Exit Fifa.
Enter Smucks.
Smucks: Are you alright, my prince?
Dicknose: Oh how I wish I could place my hands upon her hips, and force her into my royal crotch.
Smucks: You must’ve been pulling your tally to her then, right?
Dicknose: Nay, to my late mother.
Smucks: I see. Shall I leave you alone then?
Dicknose: Nay, it’s quite alright for you to stay.
Smucks: Shall I clean up your drippings, my prince?
Dicknose: I pray thee, don’t. That’s my dinner.
Smucks: Shall I scoop them into thy mouth then?
Dicknose: Please do.
Smucks feeds Dicknose.
Smucks: My prince, if it be Fifa you seek, ask her to the Royal Ball.
Dicknose: It’s more complex than you think. For to her, I’m only a prince.
Smucks: Wouldn’t she like to ride a prince?
Dicknose: Nay, not I. She only wallows with those filthy ghetto types.
Smucks: Then she is ratchet.
Dicknose: A most desirable one too. What am I doing telling you all this? Good eve to you! Leave my quarters at once!
Smucks: I only have dimes, my prince.
Dicknose: Leave those then.
Smucks: Eye, my prince.
Smucks leaves the dimes.
Exit Smucks.
Dicknose: There will be much dead sperm tonight.
Act 2
Enter Smucks, Dickdose, and Heisenberg.
Smucks: Good morrow, King Heisenberg and Prince Dicknose.
Dicknose: Good morrow, Smucks.
Heisenberg: Enough lollygagging. Let’s get to business.
Smucks: What do you mean, my king?
Heisenberg: Dicknose has arranged this meeting for us.
Smucks: A meeting? What for?
Dicknose: We will be discussing my chances with Fifa.
Heisenberg: Is she spoken for?
Smucks: Eye, she is. Married to a man named Jimbles, as I recall.
Dicknose: Oh, sorrow doth fill my mind. Woe is me.
Heisenberg: Cheer on, my son, for there’s always a way out.
Dicknose: Father, there is truly not. Oh such pity upon my titty.
Smucks: Nay, my prince. Your father is right. Let’s plan a heist to kill this wretched Jimbles who separates thy sword from its sheath.
Dicknose: Eye, good Smucks. We shall. Where doth this bloke live?
Heisenberg: I’ll check this year’s censes.
Smucks: I shall slice him with my rapier. What might be your weapons of choice?
Dicknose: My thrice-blessed lance.
Heisenberg: Fuck you guys. I’m getting my glock.
Smucks: So we invade tomorrow night?
Heisenberg: Why not tonight?
Smucks: I cannot. For I have high intensity Zumba tonight.
Dicknose: Good God! Have you gone mad?
Smucks: Nay, just a bit chubby. I must pick up my tutu from the drycleaners now. Good morrow to you both!
Exit Smucks.
Heisenberg: Eye, unto you as well. My son, the Royal Ball is tomorrow. What shall you wear?
Dicknose: I shall not need clothes, for I shall be thrusting all night with Fifa.
Heisenberg: I see. I must be off. The bitch is hungry.
Dicknose: Good morrow.
Exit Heisenberg.
Dicknose: I must go and practice my thrusts. I know I shall master the 69!
Act 3
Enter Heisenberg and Smucks.
Dicknose: Good eve to you both! I’ve mastered the 69, father!
Heisenberg: Good for you, son.
Smucks: Enough chatter! Let’s begin our heist!
Dicknose: Eye! Do you have the time?
Heisenberg: 6:00 pm. The ball begins at 8:00 pm.
Smucks: It shall take us wee under an hour to get to Jimbles house from here.
Dicknose: We have the time. Let’s go.
They arrive at '6:52 pm'.
Heisenberg: Here we are! I shall try to gain entrance.
*Knocks*
Jimbles: Who knocks upon my door?
Heisenberg: I am the one who knocks.
Jimbles: Well you can’t come in!
Dicknose: It be your king, prince and a random cuck!
Jimbles: By my mother’s tits! I’m coming to the door now!
*Door opens*
Jimbles: Why hello! It is my greatest pleasure!
Heisenberg: Suck my dick in hell, Jimbles!
*Gunfire*
Jimbles lies dead.
Dicknose: What the fuck, father?
Heisenberg: What do you mean?
Smucks: I thought we were going to use teamwork?
Heisenberg: Nay.
Dicknose: Well shit. I brought my thrice-blessed lance for nothing then!
Heisenberg: It’s 7:00 pm now, my son. Go to Fifa and tell her Jimbles stood her up!
Dicknose: Then I shall ask her to go with me! She can’t refuse! She already bought the tickets and there are no refunds! Good eve, bitches!
Exit Dicknose.
30 minutes later, in Fifa’s bedchambers…
Fifa: I should stuff my bra!
Enter messenger.
Messenger: Fifa! You must hear of what happened!
Fifa: Speak of it.
Messenger: Your husband, Jimbles, was murdered about 30 minutes ago! He was shot by a tall, bald and bearded man wearing a sweater!
Fifa: Speak no more of it! I can’t stand the pain! Go thee home!
Exit messenger.
Fifa: Oh God in heaven, why? He was my sugar daddy! I cannot live without him, and I will not. I shall hang myself in my garden while listening to “Still Loving You” by Scorpions.
Exit Fifa.
Enter Dicknose.
Dicknose: Fifa! You won’t believe it! That little twet stood you up! I guess you’re gonna have to ride my dick, but life goes on!
*Quiet*
Dicknose: Fifa? Are you at home? I guess not. I just realized that I’m hungry for some potato yankings. I’ll go look in her garden for some!
Fifa hanging dead.
Dicknose: My Fifa, why? I shaved my balls for nothing. I truly wish I could’ve screwed you. My heart doth skip beats and my hand doth pull my meat, since now you’re gone, I have no one to tweet. I swore to myself that if I didn’t fornicate with you on a soon day, I would surely become a gay.
Enter Smucks.
Smucks: Fifa lay dead in your arms and not a prayer you speak? This is a blasphemy bigger than my butt cheek.
Dicknose: Phooey on your prayers! Our God has abandoned the both of us.
Smucks: You’re still going to the ball, aren’t you?
Dicknose: Of course! I have to! I shall bring her corpse as my date and we shall make love under the moonlit sky!
Smucks: But, she dead.
Dicknose: I must be off. I’m late as it is. Good eve!
Exit Dicknose and Fifa’s corpse.
Smucks: I should text the king and tell him what’s going on.
At the ball…
Enter Dicknose and Fifa’s corpse.
Dicknose: Out of the way, bitches! Check out my sick dance moves!
Enter Smucks and Heisenberg.
Heisenberg: Where is he?
Smucks: I think he’s the one dancing with the corpse, King Dipshit.
Dicknose: Ah, my friends! Welcome!
Heisenberg: Put her down, son. She’s dead! We must bury her.
Dicknose: Shut your mouth, fuckface! I’m gonna tap her ass!
Smucks: NO! That is grave raping!
Heisenberg: He’s right, son! Put her down, and no one breaks any laws.
Dicknose: I’ll do what I want!
Exit Dicknose and Fifa’s corpse.
Heisenberg: We tried to stop him.
Smucks: No we didn’t.
Heisenberg: Whatever. Let’s get our fucking groove on!
Outside…
Enter Dicknose and Fifa’s corpse.
Dicknose: Well, hello there, beautiful. Let’s get right to deez nuts!
Enter Fifa’s Ghost.
Fifa’s Ghost: Don’t do it! If you do, it will take your soul into an infinite void of darkness.
Dicknose: Big deal. Fuck you! Oh wait, I’m already gonna do that!
Exit Fifa’s Ghost.
Dicknose: Alright, where was I? Oh yeah! Off comes the dress!
Dicknose makes love with Fifa’s corpse.
Dicknose: Ah YEEEAAAAH! I came! Oh God that was good. Ouch! My dick is on fire! Help! Oh God, my chest! I need some Tums up in this bitch! NOOOOO!!!
Dicknose lies dead.
Enter Heisenberg and Smucks.
Heisenberg: My son lies dead because of his deed. A truly great man he was. However, lust took over his morality and turned him bitter like the sewer waters. There shall be no continuation of the Strombolli Dynasty. Hey, Smucks, do you want to be prince of Sextopia?
Smucks: Sure!
Heisenberg: Good! Come on back inside then. We have maids waiting for us!
Exit Heisenberg and Smucks.
Morgan Freeman: This was the end of Dicknose Strombolli, Prince of Sextopia. Lust is a powerful thing that can turn men into swine, and swine into Mexicans. It just goes to show, if you want to make love, do it in your bed, and with a lover alive, not already dead. Good eve.
Finis
The whole video made me sick, so I stuck it up my asshole and never worried about it again. Da end.