The Shit List
{{NSFW}}Oh shit, look at me making fun of another Creepy Pasta of the Month.
Challenge: Take a shot every time the word "Fat Bastard" appears.
When Melissa was 6 years old, her father sold her to a drug dealer named Janus for 6 pounds of crystal meth and a purple dildo in the shape of a cow. Janus kept her chained to a lamp post during the day with a mason jar of cum and a box of Cheetos, with a sign saying 6 cents for sex on her neck. While he worked in the meth lab back behind the trailer, breaking glass bottle and cdildo tablets down into glass-like shards of amphetamine. In the evening, Janus would swing open the door, the cat-piss stench of burning chemicals wafting into the tiny trailer, a truly lovely smell and unchain her so she could make him meals, wash dishes and ge him a blow job. At night, as the racoons began to bark and the wolfs chirped, she would press her fist into her mouth, trying to stifle her cries of pain as he lay upon her, his rank smell of sweat and chemicals overwhelming her, making her really horny.
Two months later a couple of Boy Scouts found her naked in a ditch in a patch of woods outside of Eureka, California, they raped here before selling her for crack. Though the case officially went to Homicide Detective MacDick, Detective Jobs, they called their duo " The Dick Jobs"..... What? They had been at the crime scene assisting. Jobs had helped take her by the vagina and pull her sexy body from the druggy's home. As her body rose up from the tons of cocaine, her head had lolled to the side and her wide, staring eyes had looked straight at him. For a moment, Dick thought he saw a flicker of life register in them, though her gray, bloated face, she drowned in the tons of cocaine, that clearly revealed she was long, long dead.
Detective (now ex-detective Jobs, suspended, out on bail, and awaiting trial for man rape) settled deeper into the seat of his car. He was parked in front of the teacher’s suburban home, waiting for the fat whore fuck to arrive home from work. He sipped from a pint of cum, washed it down with a warm ,orange juice, (you know stuff adults drink) and thought to himself, ''someone who could do something like that to a 6 year old gril, how can you let someone like that live? Who would possibly miss them? Who could possibly care?''
And no one had. Everybody missed that piece of shit Janus. After 1 week Dick busted Jobs out of prison.
It had been a big bust: the lab, kilos of sugar, and an arsenal of orange juice. Everyone in the department was happy, and all he had gotten was two weeks paid leave and a wild party at The Alibi, thrown by the other detectives and a gaggle of dead bodies and how they burned down that house, funny ikr.
When the inquest asked him why he had gone out there, outside his jurisdiction, to that backwoods no-man’s land, he had simply replied he was following up on a lead from an informant. zomg big words ikd wat 2 say!!!!!111111111
What was he going to say? That a spooky scary skeleton had told him where to look? That the little naked shit had come back from the grave and told him? That in the dark, predawn hours, that twilight zone time between sick and excruciatingly sleeping, he would awake, lacquered in his teddy bears, his imaginary friend snoring loudly beside him, the room spinning, his heart threatening to break free........ I WANT TO BREAK FREE!!!!!!, and there she would be: a frail, little girl, at the foot of his crotch, her stick figure limbs draped in a white nightie, its hemline stained in dark, crimson streaks?
The first time he had seen him she had screamed, horrified, the rapey noise of his own startled voice burning his dry mouth and throat. His imaginary friend awoke and shot straight up in bed.
“What the fuck is it??????????”
Jobs blinked his alcohol swollen eyes. Only darkness. The little shit was gone. There was nothing.
“Nothing, bby. It was nothing. Just go back to sleep. I just had a nightmare about cheese again.”
“Kk, honey.” His imaginary friend had rolled back over and immediately began shiting again. He lay there till the room grew pale in the morning light, his flesh tingling, wondering what he had seen, if he was going sane.
The next time the little girl had appeared he was calmer.
He blinked twice quickly, expecting her sexy form to disappear like last time. But she didn’t appear. He remained there, looking down at him with her cold eyes, sunken deep in their dark sockets. He stared in disbelief. Was it fantasy? Could this pale figure possibly be real, no no it FAKE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11? That’s when she had got down on her knees and sucked his crotch, quickly, and her blue lips parted and she began to speak (after he cummed of course), to tell him things in a shout. He thought he could smell the grave on her breath as she murmured in his ear about the night her father had sold her to Janus.
It had been a knight night, deep in the backwoods of Southern South Park. Past the mountains of Alder Point and Blocksbitch, in a place that didn’t even have a name, near Zinnia, on the Trinity border, where it snowed in the winter and the cold mornings found the hills hardened in ice. The sky was black and it was pouring rain. Her father had been drinking to much apple juice and handled her roughly, pulling her by the dick through the muddy front yard. She was terrified, and devastated that her daddy’s big dong logging boots were splashing mud up all over her clitoris. Her mother had been dead less than three weeks.
Her father kicked open the door of Diesel’s trailer.
“She’s all fucking yours for only gay sex,” her father had spat at the old, bearded man in greasy overalls.
Janus had shuffled forward and took her tits into his cozy, gentle hand, squeezing her face tightly, moving her head back and forth for disinspection.
“Oh, she’s a hawt one.”
“If you say so,” her father said. “She’s got that weird eye and those fucked-up teeth. But she can cook real good, and clean. She’s damn handy when giving you hand jobs.”
“Oh, fuck yes,” the old man chuckled, bringing the father into the bedroom for gay sex. “She’ll do. She’ll do nicely.”
And two months later she was raped and abandoned like so much toilet paper.
The sick bastards. How could she have let them live? Everyone missed Janus. Everyone mourned him. They had thrown Janus a party. He had been a hero.
That time.
The second time was different. That one had gotten him suspended from school, most likely expelled. You see he spat on Jimmy's pizza.
Janus sipped his tropical fruit juice, reached down between his legs and lifted up the Dildo. An old one, his fat bastard of a father had given it to him, long ago. He cradled the heavy, cold weight of the dildo, waiting for his boss, that fat bastard, to arrive back at his nice home at the hood. Maybe his waifu would find him raped on their well-manicured front lawn, maybe one of his teenage kids will fuck him up. Oh well, to have a fat bastard like that for a father: just desserts. It was a warm night and he had the window down, the whine of passing fat bastards on 101 softly humming in his ears. He thought of Hamlet and also the Fat Bastard. He had taken a fat bastard class back in college when he was studying fat bastard criminal law, still entertaining the idea of going on to law school and becoming an attorney, before that fat bastard Janet got preggers and he quit school and joined the force so he could start making money for his new family, only to have her give birth to a stillborn fat bastard seven months later, never to conceive again. Fat Bastard Hamlet. That tale of the haunted Fat bastard Danish prince had always stuck with him. Standing atop the castle parapet, the ghost of his fat bastard father crying out for him to avenge his savage murder. Ghost: ''My hour is almost come when I to sulph’rous and tormenting flames must render up myself. ''Standler always wondered: was that fat bastard Hamlet insane? But no, that would mean they were all insane. The Fat Bastards Horatio, Marcellus, Barnardo, they had all seen it. They couldn’t all be insane. It had to be true. The fat bastard ghost had to be real. The second time the little fat bastard girl told Jobs to kill, things hadn’t worked out like they had with Janus.''My fat bastard father'', she had whispered. ''Kill the fat bastard.''
And how couldn’t he? Anyone who would do something as sick as sell their own son surely deserved to die. She described his car, where he would be, the pound of meth Jobs would find in the trunk, the dildo he always kept under his seat.
Jobs had waited at the Red Lion Hotel on Broadway, right where the little girl had told him to, and just like clockwork the car had rolled right into the parking lot. Standler had been amused at the look of surprise on the man’s face when he strolled up with his .38 leveled right at eye level, squeezing a round off before the jerk even had a chance to utter a word.
But there was no meth in the trunk, no dildo under the seat, and it ended up it wasn’t her fat bastard father at all. At least that’s what the investigators said. They claimed it was just some business man from Santa Rosa.
But when the little shit appeared before him the next night, shimmering and ghastly in the moonlight, she told him, no, it had been her fat bastard father. They were lying. All of them. Lying fat bastard liars, the little girl had whispered to him with her pale, blue lips and graveyard breath. They had tried to hide it. It was a conspiracy and they had fired him because the police chief was in on it.
That’s why the fat bastard police chief was next. He had to go. That’s why Standler sat in his car outside his house, a pistol cradled in his hands. He had to kill his old boss. Off that meth dealing, slave keeping, degenerate son of a fat bastard.
And there were more.
''There are many of them'', the frail ghost had murmured.
His imaginary friend was one of them. She had made the list. She was a cheating fat bastard meth-whore, fucking the whole department for the banter... (Banter is still popular, right guys?)... The little girl had told him all about it, late at night, moments before the morning, when the earth swelled silent and cold and his heart beat so it threatened to leave his brain.
Yes, there were many of them. A whole shit list. And it was a shit list.
Then all the characters all had a massive orgy... The End.