Cody Christano: The Life of an American Scum Bucket
The night is still young and no one is around to stop you from desecrating the dead, so with shovel in hand you begin to roam the graveyard, whistling "zip a dee doo dah".
You stop beneath a weeping willow tree to read a large withered tombstones markings, "Here Lies Margaret Stillworth, 1898-1979, Loving Wife & Mother, Rest in Peace". You chuckle. No one is resting in peace as long as Cody Christano is alive. You begin to dig up the grave, vigorously. Eventually your shovel hits into a solid wood. The coffin you think excitedly. Digging around it you open the coffin to look upon the gloriously dead body of Margaret Stillworth. She is somewhat decayed, with rotting flesh and empty eye sockets. A stale scent permeates around you. She is wearing a black dress and a necklace with what looks like rubies.
"Hello Margaret...It's time to take you to heaven." You whisper into her grayish ear.
You rip the skirt of the black dress and go to town on the elderly corpse. You howl at the moon in the sky as you ravage the body in ways unthinkable to wholesome, moral people. Margaret is incredibly dry, its almost like rubbing against a flaky, stale muffin. The sound is also strange, like your using sandpaper against a wooden board. You love it. You love every second. Part of you wishes that Margarets ghost is watching you and that she is powerless to stop this act from occurring from beyond the grave. After you finish, you kiss Margaret on the lips and thank her for a wonderful evening.
Suddenly you hear footsteps approaching nearby. You shift quickly into panic mode. You don't have time to bury Margaret if you run so that option is no good!
You stop beneath a weeping willow tree to read a large withered tombstones markings, "Here Lies Margaret Stillworth, 1898-1979, Loving Wife & Mother, Rest in Peace". You chuckle. No one is resting in peace as long as Cody Christano is alive. You begin to dig up the grave, vigorously. Eventually your shovel hits into a solid wood. The coffin you think excitedly. Digging around it you open the coffin to look upon the gloriously dead body of Margaret Stillworth. She is somewhat decayed, with rotting flesh and empty eye sockets. A stale scent permeates around you. She is wearing a black dress and a necklace with what looks like rubies.
"Hello Margaret...It's time to take you to heaven." You whisper into her grayish ear.
You rip the skirt of the black dress and go to town on the elderly corpse. You howl at the moon in the sky as you ravage the body in ways unthinkable to wholesome, moral people. Margaret is incredibly dry, its almost like rubbing against a flaky, stale muffin. The sound is also strange, like your using sandpaper against a wooden board. You love it. You love every second. Part of you wishes that Margarets ghost is watching you and that she is powerless to stop this act from occurring from beyond the grave. After you finish, you kiss Margaret on the lips and thank her for a wonderful evening.
Suddenly you hear footsteps approaching nearby. You shift quickly into panic mode. You don't have time to bury Margaret if you run so that option is no good!