The Little Cut-Off Dick

[poingjam]

This is the most horrible thing I've ever written. A friend of mine read it and threw up.

The Merry Adventure of the Little Cut-Off Dick
by Lucas McCain

In a land that time forgot, a land without spinach (but abundant in cauliflower), there was a little cut-off dick. It oozed a pinkish ichor of blood and semen from the base where it had been severed, and it left little pink circles wherever it hopped. The vein from its shaft trailed out behind it past the skin. Its head was a most pleasant purple.

The little cut-off dick lived on a lily pad in a pond. Every day it would wriggle its way to the edge of the pad and stare off into the distance, watching the shore with longing. Its only friend was a diseased duck who frequented the pond, and it wasn’t really a friend so much as a duck, but it tried its best in the metaphorical eyes of the little cut-off dick.

One day, while out shopping for useless things that are ruining America, an ugly woman came to the pond. She was covered in small, black hairs, and her face was the spitting image of Stephen Hawking (if he were covered in small, black hairs). She had with her a bag of popcorn to feed the duck. In the distance, the little cut-off dick gazed at her, spying a potential friend.

The ugly woman was scattering her popcorn and the duck was lying belly-up in the pond (for it had died the night before, but she couldn’t tell, because she was a retarded bitch). She happened to scatter a kernel of popcorn in the direction of the little cut-off dick and stopped, noticing it.

“Well hello, what are you?” said the woman in a deep, unpleasant voice.

“I’m the little cut-off dick!” said the little cut-off dick. He spoke in the dialect of dicks (all dialog in this story is translated into English), but the ugly woman understood his speech perfectly due to her longtime love of all things dickish.

“Wow, you certainly are little!” exclaimed the woman. “Would you like to be my friend?”

“Gee gosh, sure!” shouted the little cut-off dick. “But how do I get to you?”

The woman wrinkled her brow (becoming exponentially uglier in the process), and she sat on a nearby rock to think. She reached a hand down the front of her pants and began to pleasure herself, as this is known to improve brain activity (or maybe she was just horny and gross).

“I’ve got it!” shouted the woman, and she pulled her hand out of her pants, her fingers dripping with stale yellow juices. “You can use yourself as an oar and row your lily pad to shore!”

“Why, that’s a brilliant idea!” said the little cut-off dick, and he ejaculated in excitement. He glued his loose vein onto the edge of the lily pad with his sticky semen, then he dangled himself into the water (head first) and started spinning like a motor. The lily pad zoomed across the water (leaving a pinkish trail in its wake) until it washed onto the shore. The woman picked it up and unstuck the dick from the pad.

“You and I will be friends forever,” said the woman, and the little cut-off dick beamed. She pulled down her pants, revealing a dark, mysterious jungle of pubic hair (which teemed with all manner of exotic creatures just like a real jungle), and the little cut-off dick came on her face in excitement. Dripping with semen, the woman pushed the little cut-off dick into her steaming vagina. It continued to ejaculate, adding a shock of white to the blackness of her jungle. When she had pushed in the dick as far as it would go, the woman smiled a cummy smile.

“Feeling comfortable?” she asked.

From the depths of her cervical canal, a muffled series of joyous, orgasmic cries could be heard.

“Good!” said the woman. She emptied out her bag of popcorn and revealed a tank of gasoline and a box of matches at the bottom. Singing a jolly tune in time with the muffled shouts of joy, she unscrewed the cap and emptied the gas can on herself. She struck a match, and the fumes of the gasoline ignited, spreading to cover her whole body. Her screams of ungodly pain muffled the joy of the little cut-off dick, and the ground around her blackened as she writhed in agony. Her little hairs went up in a series of flashes, and her skin melted into the earth.

An hour later, all that remained was a charred skeleton (which clearly belonged to someone very ugly) and a shriveled black dick with a smile burned onto its non-existent face.

[naberdy]

Originally Posted by poingjam

This is the most horrible thing I've ever written. A friend of mine read it and threw up.

Either you're lying or you have one lame ass friend. Why did she kill herself at the end?

[marina]

This story is missing several things it would need to be considered finished.

It's not nearly gross enough to be gross for it's own sake, and it's not nearly interesting enough to be good.

The linguistic flourishes you make are a good start. You have a sense of timing and of humor, but you must develop it more.

[RoundAbout]

tl;dr >.>

[picard102]

wtf?

[evadwolrab]

Originally Posted by marina

This story is missing several things it would need to be considered finished.

It's not nearly gross enough to be gross for it's own sake, and it's not nearly interesting enough to be good.

The linguistic flourishes you make are a good start. You have a sense of timing and of humor, but you must develop it more.

Spooky?

[BrianAlt]

Originally Posted by evadwolrab

Spooky?

Since Spooky isn't posting anymore, someone had to take over, right?

[slam_858]

I didn't throw up, but I did jerk to it

[marina]

Originally Posted by evadwolrab

Spooky?

Originally Posted by BrianAlt

Since Spooky isn't posting anymore, someone had to take over, right?

I did feel like that, but writing happens to be something I know a little bit about.

Besides, why would he post it here if he didn't want criticism?

I wish I could remember the name of this author I read a lot in high school. He was fairly amateurish as a writer, but it lent itself to the vulgar things he wrote about, mostly teenage boys in abusive relationships with older men and violent killers. I think his initials were D.D and he loved Husker Du, and converse high tops. He put some reference to those things in every book I read of his. It's been years, maybe he was total shit and I ignored it because of how graphic he was, but if you're going for gross, you have to read this guy.

[poingjam]

Well that got academic. I wrote it because we were having Asshole Night at this open mic I'm a part of (the point of Asshole Night is to be as vulgar and rude as possible). There's no meaning or thought behind the story and I don't usually write anything terribly nasty (violent, sure, but not so nasty). I just thought it'd be fun to post.