Blast and Damn! My evil minions have failed to bring me the head of that accursed trollop Kent Wayne! I have deployed Grammar Nazis, Beta Males, chihuahuas, cats, and all other manner of Anti-Dog, yet that freewheeling Man Whore and epic sci fi author continues to elude me! May the fates strike his gigantic penis with ruin and rot!
Greetings. My name is Baxter Von Derbilus. Old-timey villain and general hater of all things joyful.
Hmmm…how to address this dratted conundrum…I stroke my Goatee of Evil as I walk through my Lab of Anguish, letting my gaze drift across my vast collection of brains in jars, half-born homunculi, and miniature cities in domed platters, all governed by Razorcry Imps.
My Abhorrent Oddities bring no pleasure, for Kent Wayne has managed to thumb his nose at me, delighting soccer moms with his prodigious member whilst churning out volume after volume of wondrous stories. He must be stopped. To that end, I have employed nearly every tool in my monstrous arsenal. Now I will strike with my most potent weapon: the Sorrowtwist Crystal. An ancient artifact that can wither a man’s life force through thought and intention.
I whip off a dusty blanket, unveiling a crystal orb mounted on a desiccated hand. It’s base is comprised of petrified roots, all spiraling upward until they narrow into the hand.
Black mist fills the orb, lighting its innards with dull green light. It swirls apart with a sibilant hiss, revealing an image of the oaf known as Kent Wayne. True to form, he’s having intercourse with a bevy of soccer moms.
Time to end this.
I spread my fingers, clawlike, around the orb. The magic takes effect–he seizes and spasms; his beautiful, Man Whore skin turns ashy and pale. Necrotic veins creep across his muscle-cabled body.
And then he reaches past the side of his stained futon, fumbling his eReader open to Echo and activating its reality distortion powers. Magic flash.
He shrugs off my ill intentions with a flex of his mind, then, through our arcane link, projects his disgustingly large wiener into my lab.
“Guess what?” he crows. “I just finished up with the ten best orgasms of my muh’fuckin’ LIFE! Meaning it’s the perfect time for a shiny-slick SNAIL TRAIL, right across yo’ face and MOUTH!”
“What?” I wrinkle my brow, puzzled, but as realization hits, my confusion turns to horror. His penis sniffs around my lab like an inquisitive canine, then arrows toward my forehead, glans glistening with post-coital fluids.
Agh! No! NO!!! It’s touching me! It’s—
IT BURRRRNSSSSS!!!! NYAAAAAAHHH!!!!
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