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Eradicated
Creative
 Created on 1-19-08
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 Story Rating G
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DO YOU WANT MORE? DO YOU WANT THE ENCORE, THE WHORE, SHE'S BROKE AND POOR, much like the man, the man that stood across the apartment, in shackles and..Chains. The broke, poor woman decided to walk on over to the other end of the hallway, and then she...She was attacked by the guard dog outside the shackled and chained man's room.
The chained and shackled man, and then he said, "I CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT EACH SLOW CENTURY OF HER MOVING!" and the dog died down, way down to the ground, below the moving sound, a bitch cornered and mastered, America face-first in disaster, populace living behind Pastors and preachers, leechers and teachers, handing out their rights to live in freedom, and they'll never follow the dog's path, the bitch was smacked by the guard watching the shackled and chained man, "you dumb mutt, we could've used the woman for our friend here's enjoyment.", and then he...He smiled at the chackled and shained man, walking outside..Locking the door. First there was silence...And then..
"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"
Outside the door, smiling and crooning, "WOOOOOOO buddy!", He heads on out, full of himself with accomplishment, for he - the owner of a new slave begging for help. He has this cockroach at his knees, begging for food, begging for sleep, begging for water, begging for a fuck, pathetic. Maybe he'll get a nice cold beer for the fella at the Local Bar, Bar Haven, Havenous Bar, where the music is sweet, the girls are ugly and cheap as the beer, and both get more enjoyable as you guzzle more amounts. He had to find the next whiskey bar, or he would've died, 'cause in Alabama the songs are moving on a lullaby to shadow and catch up to the rest of the world, left off with a rocket to NASA. Now all that remains is man for man, woman for woman, and humankind was lost as they knew it...The end, my friend.
He's walking into the Whiskey bar, and the only dfancers in the bar is a shagging old 45-somethin' year old MILF with breasts the size of Liberty's hands, they felt just as cold as Liberty's, too. "Ah, what the hell" he said, climbing over the counter to deliver himself a nice fresh one.
"FREEZE, MOTHERFUCKER!", screamed the bartender, leaping out from a secret crouching space.
"If I'da known you'd be there, I'da scattered my bitch over you." With that said the man took out his shotgun and unoriginally killed the bartender and stripper, taking his drink with a good swig and a nighttime thinker, enjoying himself with the crazy jukebox spurting olden-time Golden classics; good ol' days. The good ol' days of the last decade, before this war had begun, before the people know America had fucked them over, before everyone was doing a damn fine job at playing the role of the oblivious pigeon. "What I wouldn't give for everyone to be an oblivious pigeon again" he said to himself and laid his head out on the solid-Oak bar.
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