Showing posts with label Bonfire. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bonfire. Show all posts
Thursday, September 10, 2026
I Finally Found It: the Reason Jules from Pulp Fiction Doesn't Eat Pork
Labels:
Bonfire,
Comedy,
Conservative,
Cooking,
Dictator,
Donald Trump,
Fascist,
Flames,
Friars Club,
MAGA,
Mockery,
Oink,
Pig,
Pork,
President,
Republican,
Roast,
Satire,
Spit Roast,
Swine
Wednesday, December 21, 2016
Demon Axe, Chapter 10
Building a campfire in the grassy arena wasn’t hard to do
considering so many victims left behind their pot lighters during the
slaughter. The foursome could have just as easily crawled inside the Demon Axe
tour van and ran the heater, but who wanted to be inside that beat up piece of
shit anyways? The cackling flames in the early morning chill felt good against
the shaking hands of Daniel Mercer, as well as his newfound friends in the form
of Johnny Vega, Sonia Marquez, and Raven Triscloud. The Demon Axe microphone
sat beside Daniel like it was his own child.
“So, Mr. Lord of the Pit, what do we do now? Do we hunt this
Roger asshole down or what?” asked Johnny, his fists tightening at the thought
of getting his hands on that self-righteous lunatic.
“Trust me, Johnny boy, there’s nothing I’d love more than to
scream a few lines in his face. I might let you power bomb him a few times
first. Maybe Sonia can lock him in a triangle choke with those long legs of
hers. But you know what? Roger Zee isn’t going to make himself easy to find.
You want to know why it took a long time to find Bin Laden? Because it was like
looking for a needle in a haystack. Or a nun a porn convention. Or a bloody
coat hanger in a catholic church. Or a…”
Raven cut off Daniel’s dialogue with, “Okay, we get it.
Roger is hard to find. It’s not like we have a GPS signal on him or anything
like that. And I shudder to think about waiting for him to make another
attack.”
“Wait a minute…” said Daniel like a light bulb was going off
in his mind. “Yeah! Yeah, that’s it! I’ve got the microphone! Johnny and Sonia
know how to wrestle! I say we put on a fucking show, baby!” The two wrestlers
cheered with fists raised to the sky.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on a second!” said Raven while
waving her arms around defensively. “Daniel, you can’t actually be that dumb,
can you? Yes, your microphone has these supernatural powers that can subdue
pretty much anybody, but you’re talking about luring Roger Zee out in the open,
basically daring him to attack. You’re inviting all of these people to see a
show and they’re going to be victims! Do you not see what the hell it is you’re
suggesting, Daniel? You’re using your own audience as fodder! I spent all of
this time trying to convince you that the death of your band mates wasn’t your
fault. If you put on this show in an attempt to lure out Roger, those deaths
WILL be on your head! Is that what you want?”
“It wouldn’t matter if it was a Demon Axe show or a fucking
Justin Bieber abortion,” said Johnny. “Roger is going to attack whether
Daniel’s involved or not. It could be people on a subway, people at a football
game, or even a fucking strip club, for god’s sake. If Daniel puts on a show
somewhere, at least we’ll be there to stop this Dungeons & Dragons douche bag
before he starts slashing shit to pieces.”
“He’s blunt, but he’s got a point,” said Sonia with a wink.
“How the hell is he going to put on a concert when all of
his Demon Axe buddies are dead?! He can’t just scream into a microphone and
expect people to dance around like puppets! He needs a guitarist! He needs a
bass player! He needs a drummer! And none of those people can be imaginary this
time!” said a frustrated Raven. In her mind, this debate shouldn’t even have
been happening. It was just a case of testosterone (even on Sonia’s side)
versus common sense.
Daniel had a shit-eating grin on his face when he said, “I
think I might know some guys who will fill those roles. The night of the
concert, there were two other bands that played before Demon Axe. One of them
was an LGBT-themed band called Juice (what else are you going to call it?) and
the other was a Muslim-themed band called I Am Death (again, what else are you
going to call it?). I think some of those guys would be happy to play a few new
hits.”
Raven laughed sarcastically and after being asked by Daniel
what was so funny, she said, “Oh, that’s fucking rich! You’re going to ask two
heavy metal bands who are probably more traumatized than you are right now if
they want to be bait for Roger Zee. They’ve gone through enough shit already
and now you’re going to put them through an even bigger shit storm. Were they
even around during the attack or did they leave before it could happen?”
“Those guys are like brothers and sisters to me!” snapped
Daniel. “I gave them a chance to open for me when nobody else would! They’ve
done so much to help me in my career that this was the best way I could pay
them back! If Juice and I Am Death decide to help me with my plan, I’ll make
sure they get all the star power they can handle. Their careers are going to
skyrocket after this show. All the hateful motherfuckers out there who harass
them on Twitter and in public are going to have to eat their words like a big
old turd sandwich! What do you think about that, Raven-Pie?!”
Raven held up a wagging finger and said, “First of all,
don’t call me Raven-Pie. I’m not your granddaughter or your wife. And second of
all, if you’re going to use your so-called brothers and sisters are cannon
fodder, make sure they know what the fuck it is they’re signing up for.
Otherwise, they’re never going to trust you again and they’ll fade back into
obscurity. But I’m pretty sure that once they figure out what the hell is going
on, they’re going to tell you to take your star power and shove it up your
ass.”
“Do you want to catch this motherfucker or not?!” shouted
Daniel. “Roger Zee is your project, Raven! He’s a product of your society
whether you want to admit it or not! I’m handing him to you on a silver platter
and you won’t even jump at the opportunity! And here I thought that blade you
carry in your boot was for fighting the good fight! Turns out you’re just
chopping onions! Either that or you really are crying about bullshit!”
Raven sighed and stood up before starting her way back to
the portal. When asked where she was going by Daniel, she looked at him sternly
and said, “If you think sacrificing a bunch of innocent people is going to get
you what you want, then obviously I can’t stop you. Hell, your wrestler friends
seem to be onboard with it and they could probably pile-drive my ass if I tried
to stop you. Just know this: the next time your brain goes numb from the trauma
you endure, don’t bother using that EMDR trick I showed you. I want you to live
with that pain for the rest of your miserable life. I’m going back to the elven
world to tell my king about how he wasted a perfectly good magic spell on you.
I’m sure it’ll break his heart, but I’m telling him anyways. Goodbye, Daniel. I
hope your plan is worth it.”
Raven opened the portal to the elven world underneath the
statue of King Arthur Triscloud and hopped through without protest from her
other three former cohorts. Daniel was left with a solemn expression on his
face, as if the elf’s words stung his heart worse than any slash from Roger’s
machete. Just when the Lord of the Pit was going to sink into depressive
quicksand…
“Man, who gives a shit what she thinks?!” roared Johnny. “If
she wants to go back home to daddy and whine until the apocalypse, then we
don’t need her ass anyways! Trust me, Daniel, you’ve got this. Sonia and I will
be bouncers at your concert if that’s what you want. The minute Roger shows up
with that sick-looking blade of his, we’ll hold him still while you spit some
lines in his face. And then all of your loyal fans can body surf his ass
onstage so that you can take the world’s biggest dump on his chest. Doesn’t
that sound like a plan?”
Daniel still had a contemplative expression on his face and
refused to answer. Sonia snapped him out of it when she reached over and
lovingly stroked the back of his hand. “Hey, rock god. Johnny asked you a
question. Are you going to answer it or are you going to sit there and
fantasize about your elf girlfriend all day?”
“She’s just a friend, Sonia. At least she was,” murmured Daniel.
“Yeah, and I’m your mother,” said Sonia sarcastically before
scooting next to him and placing her thick arm around his shoulders. It wasn’t
as tender as Raven’s, but it would have to do. “Raven doesn’t want to see the
bigger picture here. Of course Roger is going to attack whoever the hell he
wants. He’s going to keep doing it until his wing-nut beliefs are satisfied.
Wouldn’t you at least like to see him before he pulls this shit again?”
Daniel’s expression changed from bitter disappointment to enraged
confidence. His eyebrows were furrowed, his frown was intimidating, and his
muscles tensed. “Let’s do this shit! I’ll even send Roger’s chopped off dick
and balls to Raven as a Valentine’s Day present.” He then looked sexily at
Sonia and said, “Or maybe I’ll give them to someone even more special.”
“Oh, Daniel!” said Sonia as she kissed Daniel on his cheek
and patted him on the back. “Come on, Johnny, let’s go.”
Sitting cross-legged, the giant wrestler looked down at his
lap and said, “You know I would, but I can’t stand up right now.”
“TMI, Johnny! TMI!” shouted Sonia. Daniel on the other hand
was laughing his ass off.
Labels:
Argument,
Arthur Triscloud,
Bonfire,
Concert,
Daniel Mercer,
Demon Axe,
Elf,
Heavy Metal,
Johnny Vega,
King,
Lord of the Pit,
Novel,
Portal,
Raven Triscloud,
Sonia Marquez,
Statue,
Warrior,
Wrestlers
Wednesday, July 6, 2016
Chunky Puffs
That Crescent Moon Party was some badass shit. Lots of
drinking, lots of dancing, lots of fucking, and not one werewolf in sight. And
then Nick Savage wondered why the hell he was tied to a barbecue rack out on
the beaches with a spitfire underneath him. He wondered why the hell he had a
golden delicious apple in his mouth like a ball gag. The biggest question of
all was why were two chubby cannibals with afro hair and grass skirts looking
on at him with the most romantic eyes. They made Nick shiver like a naked
Eskimo when they licked their fat lips.
In the end, none of those questions mattered to Nick. All he
had to do was get the hell out of this contraption before daybreak. With his
vampire fangs, he chewed through the apple and swallowed it whole, giving off
an obnoxious burp after enjoying his snack. He looked at the confused cannibals
with a crazy smile and said, “Well, you know what they say: an apple a day
keeps the doctor away. So as soon as the two of you are done checking each
other’s prostates, I’d like it if you’d untie me.”
The cannibal on the left started screaming in a tribal
language while his friend was holding him back. During their petty argument,
Nick could hear them call each other Soa and Tufu. He laughed like an evil
clown while the one called Soa angrily asked, “What’s so funny, you pathetic
little creature?!”
“Nothing, nothing at all,” said Nick. “I just didn’t think
my night was end with me getting eaten alive by two idiots named Soda and Tofu.
I suppose that can’t be worse than Gwyneth Paltrow naming her daughter Apple,
but hey, who am I to judge?”
Soa was even more aggressive with his thrashing and tribal
screaming, but Tufu was there to hold him back. As soon as Soa calmed down, his
cohort pulled him aside and the two of them talked in their native language out
of ear shot of Nick.
“Hey, retards!” Nick shouted. “If you’re going to try and
eat me, do it already! I have a nice juicy ass that you could nibble on. Or if
you’d like an even bigger slice of meat, flip me over and I’ll be happy to
help.”
Soa and Tufu came back with a gigantic pot of brown gravy
with a ladle inside. While Soa was rubbing his hands together and smiling
deviously, his friend drizzled the brown sauce all over Nick’s bare chest.
“Wow, that looks appetizing,” said Nick. “You know, if you
feed me some Taco Bell, I could do the same thing to the two of you in about
half an hour.”
Tufu slammed the pot of gravy down on the sand and pinched
Nick’s cheeks together with his massive thumb and fingers. “You want to be a
smart ass, little man?” said Tufu. “Keep talking. We’re still going to devour
every square inch of your pathetic little body!”
“Every square inch?” asked Nick sarcastically.
“Including…you know…those places? This wasn’t exactly how I envisioned getting
laid tonight, but if you two want to lose your virginities that bad, I guess
there’s nothing I can do.”
Tufu raised his meaty fist in the air and brought it down
upon Nick’s mouth. The vampire spit out a fountain of blood in his captor’s
face. The two cannibals grinned evilly at their prey while Soa said, “I think
our meat needs to be tenderized. We’ll see how tough he really is. Punch him
again! Knock those disgusting fangs out of his smart little mouth!”
The second time Tufu went for a punch to the mouth, Nick
chewed through the cannibal’s hand and started drinking his blood. While Tufu
screamed, Soa tried to pry the vampire’s fangs off of his cohort’s hand.
Instead of releasing his alligator grip, Nick took one last bite at his
captor’s wrist and swallowed the hand whole. Tufu fell backwards and rolled
around in pain while blood squirted from his stump like a volcano.
While Soa knelt beside his friend to try and stop the rapid
bleeding, Nick thrashed and struggled in his bonds. He could feel the ropes
coming slowly apart with every jerk and twist. Tufu shouted at his partner,
“Never mind me! The little bastard is trying to escape!”
Soa looked into Nick’s eyes with fire, fury, and tightly
clenched teeth. As the vampire wriggled around, the cannibal picked an axe off
the ground and slowly marched toward his victim. Soa drooled so much that he
was aggravating the fire underneath his victim. Nick hollered as the rising
flames scorched his bare back and burned holes in his blue jeans. The tribal
warrior raised his axe and roared like a lion as he brought it down for one
death blow to the gut.
While the rising flames turned Nick’s back crispy, they also
weakened his bindings. As the axe came down, the vampire hastily brought his
now liberated knee into Soa’s hand and caused him to drop the blade into the
fire. While Nick’s back was completely blistered and red, the last few ropes
were weak enough to break easily. He jumped off the barbecue rack and got in a
rapid fist fight with Soa.
The two warriors smashed each other in the face so many
times that they bled and bruised instantly. Fists turned to elbows. Elbows
turned to knees. All eight limbs were being used to smash the shit out of each
other and the resulting bursts of blood built up the fire even more.
The tickle of fire caused Nick to jump into Soa’s arms.
Though slightly dizzy, the cannibal looked bloodily and romantically into his
victim’s eyes. Nick looked at his tormentor the same way. When both men leaned
in to take a bite, it was the vampire who clutched a hold of the cannibal’s
jugular vein and drank blood like he was doing a keg challenge at a frat party.
Soa’s body became as limp as a noodle, thus signifying his death.
After treating his victim’s blood like an open bar, Nick
stumbled around clutching his chest while saying, “I don’t feel so good. I
think I’m going to…I think…Jesus Christ…” He coughed violently before dropping
to his knees and eventually plopping down on the sand chest first. The coughing
became softer until he could no longer move.
Tufu, who had scrambled off to the side with a pile of
leaves covering his stump, had finally gotten his bleeding under control to
where he was no longer screaming in pain. He looked down at the lifeless Nick
Savage with heavy breathing and clenched teeth. Little by little, he trudged
over to the corpse while on his knees and started ranting under his breath.
“What’s wrong, little man?” said the last remaining
cannibal. “Did you drink too much? Did you have a heart attack? That sucks for
you. Too bad there’s nobody out here to give you CPR. I’d give it to you, but
your mouth smells like shit and I don’t want to taste it. If you want a kiss so
badly, give it to one of your gothic vampire boyfriends!”
Nick began to stir ever so slowly as he reached his hand for
his chest once again. “Please…take me to the hospital. I’m having a heart
attack. I’m dying!”
“Oh, you’re going to die alright. There may be a crescent
moon out tonight, but that doesn’t mean I’m going home hungry. Crescent Moon
Party? How insulting is that? We would have hunted your kind down no matter
what the skies forecasted!”
The vampire breathed weakly and looked at Tufu with a
confused expression. “You’re…you’re a werewolf?”
“Surprise, surprise, little man!” said Tufu with a hearty
chuckle. “Just because I don’t walk around with fur everywhere, doesn’t mean I
can’t chow down on your disgusting body anytime I want. I’m sick of waiting
around for a full moon! If Mother Nature doesn’t give me what I want, I’ll just
take it from her filthy, rotting hands!”
A tired smile formed across Nick’s face as he said, “Thank
you, Tofu. Thank you…for giving me Soda as a delicious meal…and for showing
everybody here what idiots you werewolves really are. Crescent Moon Party? Give
me a fucking break. We’re not scared of you. On the contrary…” The suddenly
healthy vampire floated in the air and aligned his feet with the sand to stand
upright. “You should be scared of us!”
Tufu looked around in the fiery light and saw that Nick’s
vampire friends were surrounding him in a circle. The trench-coat donning
creatures of the night licked their lips and bore their fangs. Some of them
started touching their own bodies in a sexual manner to signify how hungry for
blood they really were. A fat-ass like Tufu would feed them well.
“No…no, no, no! This is ridiculous! I’ve been set up!”
shouted the fearful werewolf.
“You’ve been set up alright, Chunky Puff. Let me ask you a
question: who’s the real cannibal around here? Creatures of the night, dinner
is served!”
Labels:
Apple,
Axe,
Barbecue,
Beach,
Blood,
Blue Jeans,
Bonfire,
Cannibalism,
Chunky Puffs,
Crescent Moon,
Eating,
Fire,
Gothic,
Grass Skirt,
Nick Savage,
Party,
Soa,
Tufu,
Vampire,
Werewolf
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