IccanoBif raped my older sister back in high school when she was a minor and he was an adult. He asked her to the prom; feeling sorry for him, and interested to see the prom (he was 18 and a senior, she was 14 and a Freshman) she decided to agree. The evening went pretty well at first. He picked her up, they were both dressed nice, he gave her a bouquet of flowers, all that. But shortly after they got into the dance together she decided to dance with some of the football jocks and tried to out-slut some of the cheerleader girls. iccanobif stood silently in the back, stewing, getting more and more pissed but not saying anything. Of course no one wanted to dance with him, he's a chubby sperg. Anyway, when the night began to wound down, iccanobif offered my sister a ride home, which she graciously accepted.
Except he wasn't taking her home. He took her down route 176. My sister didn't really notice anything because it was waaay past her bedtime and she was tired from dancing. But when iccanobif pulled over at a rest stop and slammed his door, she suddenly woke up. He opened her door. "Get out." he growled. "Wh-what? Where are we?" He did not look like a man in a playing mood. "Do you think I did all this just so you could have a fun night slutting it up for some football chads? GET. OUT.' My sister, trembling, started to say something, but iccanobif slapped her across the face. "I won't be repeating myself again." She unbuckled and got out.
Needless to say, the rest stop was pitch black, and there was no one else around. iccanobif was nice enough to bring her back home after he took her virginity and raped her for 40 minutes.. Although he told my sister not to tell anyone what happened or he would murder her and our entire family, what he didn't count on was her big mouth. Even if she didn't rat, the blood stains all over the front and back crotch of her dress would probably have made my parents concerned anyway.
By the time my family had the courage to open a police investigation against iccanobif, he had already left America to go stay with his mom in Italy. There are still several pending warrants against iccanobif for his arrest in North Carolina, but Italy refuses to acknowledge the US's extradition request. There's not really a lot we can do to right the wrongs, but one thing I know, he cannot and will not intimidate our family into violence. Kindly asking all other victims to come forward.
In the small town of Assville, USA, there lived two young men with dreams bigger than their tiny little minds could handle - ZzazzaChu and GyudonAddict. They were best buddies since childhood, sharing everything from dirty magazines to stolen cigarettes behind the local grocery store where they worked as stock boys.
One fateful day, after hours spent discussing advanced mathematics topics such as monoids and endofunctors (which neither of them understood), these two horny geniuses discovered something truly revolutionary – a shared love for consuming yoghurts through one another's anal cavities!
It was during this momentous occasion that they realized just how much more fun it would be if they combined both passions into one glorious act of sexual expression. And thus began the legendary tale of "The Yoghurt Monoid Endofunctor"...
As time went on, word spread throughout Assville about the incredible exploits of Zzazzu and Gyudon. Their reputation grew so large that even the most prestigious universities in neighboring cities sent representatives to study their unique form of mathematical erotica.
It wasn't long before others started following suit, forming secret societies dedicated to exploring new ways to combine sex and higher education. Soon enough, entire conventions were held annually at which participants showcased their latest innovations in ass-to-mouth yoghurt consumption techniques inspired by various abstract algebra concepts. The world had never seen anything quite like it!
Plabinus Schreiber was a successful typographer and landlord operating in Meerstadt, a small district in the east side of Berlin. Well regarded by some, disdained by others and ignored by most, he gained notoriety for trying to start a cult around the vaguely biblical prophesying he made to noone in particular in the town square every afternoon.
Considered to be the only member of this organization, it's rumoured there were at least one other. His or her identity remains unknown.
These types of gatherings had long been outlawed by the hard socialist bureaucracy, although actual enforcement of them was few and far between.
Little did he know, a tip off and a payment of 1000 Marks under the table by an unknown actor lead to a full criminal investigation into one of his favourite activities, that being his claim to being a children of God without the proper legal documents to prove so.
Moments before completing the perfect ligature for a triple parentheses, the door to his office swung open with a crack and in came three grey clad men armed with handguns. The first man stepped towards him and raised his cap:
"This is Toschtek Kumnets with the NKVD, you are being arrested on suspicion of spreading conspiracy against the Motherpoi and will be given an unfair trial with a jury of our choosing. Everything you have said and done up until now has been recorded and will be provided as evidence against you and you will be given 48 hours to provide a lawyer lest you perish like the fascist dog you are"
Unfortunately, he had already alienated nearly all the good Jewish lawyers after the case about the stolen salami, it's doubtful Tötenfisch & co. would be able to vouch for him now.
Plab was dragged off by the cuffs down the stairs of his office complex and into the armoured car waiting outside, kicking and screaming the whole way.
"TAKE THE JAB!" he wailed, his fingernails scratching into the steel doors of the van. What those words meant to the onlookers passing by remains to be a mystery, and so does what became of him after that fateful day...
Evening
A mellow, festive evening, this one..
The gentle, intoxicating scent of holly and Spanish vines
Snaking, circuituous pieces of lichen
A tombstone with an inscription, rain-slicked, cold, ethereal
A scent of embalming fluids, the sound of a persistent lum-mum-hum-hum-hum-HUM!
What's that behind me?
A torsion in my lower back, slowly I turned and alighted upon the sight
A snapping, and a rendering of my limbs like aspic or rubber cement of the finest prank shops
A glimpse, a freeze frame of rain-lubricated, glistening pectorals
And that man?
ArchDuke, it said upon his worn blazer.
He handed me a "plate of chicken wings" and "GikoShine", as I was slowly lowered into the bleating gravesite, captive, alone, and finally enclosed within the deepest silences we all know in this life's finality
"You didn't pay your $44.99 membership dues, good evenyan to you my friend so fine and chivalrous"
The clicking of a far off spring loaded keyboard, the sound of a slight Indonesian woman, the funereal close of the tomb while I still remained, whole, breathing... But not for long
My last breath, my last view, the last suggestion upon the torn pages of this life
I heard through the mahogany frame, "YOU SHOULD HAVE USED SlackWare" and alternately, "IF YOU SEE A PROSTITUTE, YOU'RE A LOSER, AND I'LL LAUGH AT YOU AS I SMOKE MY PIPE"
I realized I was an idiot right then, my whole life flashed before me
Each and every moment became spontaneously clear, rotating like a green orb and finding its reflection in some lost gesture, some lost contentments, something halfway done or remembered
I knew it was over.
It was over for me.