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#Post#: 55923--------------------------------------------------
The End Of All The Things! AKA Conker vs. Evilly Bad 2
By: Stinger Date: February 22, 2018, 1:23 pm
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Conker the fuckin homicidal, suicidal, genocidal, piece of ****
squirrel was sitting on his couch drinking mother **** whiskey
and getting wasted on copious amounts of drugs while child ****
blared on his T.V. it was then that the Evilly bad now in his
liquid form came up behind him and beat him across the head with
a hockey stick. Conker fellt to the floor flopping like a fish.
"What in the ****?!" He yelled then gasped as he woke up as saw
the Evilly bad drinking his whiskey.
"You pig-eatin son of a fuckin ****!" Conker yelled standing up
and grabbing his nuts. "How dare you hound me!"
Conker grabbed his spork and dueled with the Evilly bad, their
great battle caused the apocolypse, the holocaust, the third
world war and the end of all things. Unfortuneately Evilly bad
won after he kicked him in the dick.
"MIGDULA!" Conker yelled grabbing his bleeding nuts and rolled
around in pain masturbaTING.
The Evilly bad began beating the shot out of his with paddles
brushes orange huice and a ball of yarmn. Conker did some
pushups and with the newfound power he jumped up and began
punching the evilly bad tin t he **** and bit his nipples off
then licked a window. Rhe evilt bad beat him to death with a
spider and built a new bar. With all these losses Conker crawled
to the bar and began drinkkinh so much beer he got mad and
started a gun fight with everyone! His violence was met with
scorn as they pulled his pants down and punched him in the balls
until he begged for mercy. So they sodmized him with a cactus.
Feeling depressed he went home shot himself in the arm and went
to bed.
To be con tinued of course!
The next day, a new Conker emerged from the ashes. He had
finally learned his lesson about violence and how it only leads
to pain. Determined to turn his life around, he sought out the
help of a therapist. They spent weeks discussing his past, his
feelings, and his triggers. Through these sessions, Conker began
to understand the root of his anger and learned healthy coping
mechanisms.
Then he said "Fuck that shit!" And began getting high on crack
while drinking copius amounsts of liquor, dancing through the
streets while masturbating.
Conker's life took another turn when he got into a fight with a
group of midgets. They had been hassling him for days, making
fun of his height and general appearance. Enraged, he lunged at
them, only to be quickly overpowered by their sheer numbers. The
midgets proceeded to beat him mercilessly, landing punch after
punch on his body. As he lay there, writhing in pain, he
couldn't help but feel a strange sense of belonging. It was as
if they had accepted him into their twisted little world. So he
pulled out his gun and proveeded to shoot them all to death.
With the midgets out of the picture, Conker decided to shove a
brick up his ass and saw his kneecap off with a butterknife. He
then went to the nearest tattoo parlor and got "Midgets suck!"
tattooed on his forehead. He spent the next few weeks wandering
the streets, lost in thought. His life had taken so many twists
and turns, it was hard to keep track. He tried to find solace in
the bottom of a bottle, but even that seemed to lose its appeal.
He considered joining a cult, but they all seemed a bit too
mainstream.
Thats when the evilly bad snuck up on him and smashed a brick on
the back of his haed.
"Take that gay boi." The creature said in a monotone voice.
Conker groaned and rolled over, clutching his head. "Oh, hi
Evilly Bad. What do you want now?" He muttered.
"I'm here to take your sperm." He saod.
Conker blinked, confused. "My...sperm?"
The Evilly Bad nodded. "Yes, your precious sperm. You see, I'm
starting my own Conker army, and I need strong, virile seed to
propagate the next generation of Conkers. Your genetic material
is perfect for my nefarious purposes."
"My sperm ia worthless you fuckin idiot!" Conker said, shooting
heroin into his thumb, "Get outta here!"
The Evilly Bad paused, clearly taken aback by this unexpected
turn of events. He scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm...you
know, you're right. Your sperm would likely result in a weak,
ineffectual army. But there is something else I could use." He
grinned menacingly. "Your blood."
Conker gulped, suddenly feeling a chill run down his spine.
"What...do you want my blood for?"
"I juat told you, you brAin dead cock sucking moron!" EB said,
kicking him in the nuts repeadtedly.
"Oh, you mean you want my blood to use in some sort of twisted
ritual?" Conker said sarcastically, his voice laced with pain.
"Well, you can have it. Just get the hell off me."
Evilly bad peed on him, then stabbed him with a buzzsaw.
"Ahh, that's much better," he said, wiping the excess urine off
his hand. "Now, let's get to it. Roll up your sleeve."
Evilly Bad broke Conker's jaw then retreated to his lair. "Enjoy
fighting the cops, girly boy."
Conker managed to crawl to a nearby alley, his broken jaw making
it difficult to breathe. He looked up at the night sky, tears
streaming down his face. "Why me?" he whispered. "Why do I
always end up like this?" Thats when the cops showed up and
began beating him with turkey legs.
As the days turned into weeks, Conker found himself in and out
of hospitals, rehab facilities, and jail cells. He tried to stay
clean, but the lure of drugs and alcohol was too strong. He even
tried joining a few different gangs, but they all seemed to want
him for the wrong reasons. Eventually, he gave up and decided to
live on the streets, begging for spare change and sleeping in
dumpsters.
One night, as he was huddled beneath a pier, he overheard a
group of sailors talking about a legendary treasure hidden
somewhere on the ocean floor. Intrigued, he decided to gather
some supplies and set sail. After weeks of searching, he finally
found the sunken ship and began diving for the treasure. Instead
of money an army of squids gave him an ass whoopin.
Conker woke up on the beach, his body battered and bruised. He
tried to stand, but his legs gave out beneath him. He crawled
back into the water, hoping that the cold would numb the pain.
As he lay there, watching the waves crash against the shore, he
realized that he had nowhere else to go and nothing else to live
for. He made a decision. He decided to masturbate.
Using the sand as lubricant, he began stroking his aching
member. The release was brief and unsatisfying, but it gave him
a moment of peace amidst the chaos of his life. As he lay there,
spent, he noticed a strange glow emanating from the depths of
the ocean. Curiosity getting the better of him, he decided to
investigate. It was Poseidon whi punched him in the nuts.
As the pain subsided, he realized that he had been chosen by the
god of the sea to be his champion. Poseidon had seen the
suffering that Conker had endured and wanted to give him a
purpose. He was to gather an army of sea creatures and fight
against the forces of evil that plagued the ocean. At first,
Conker was skeptical, but as he listened to Poseidon's words, he
felt a spark of hope ignite within him.
"Naw I'm just fucking with you." Poseidon said, "I don't want
your useless ass anywhere near me. Now get the fuck outta my
ocean before I have horses fuck you in the ass."
Conker stumbled back, tears of despair welling up in his eyes.
"But I thought...I thought you chose me," he whispered.
"I lied stupid." Poseidon said.
Conker turned his back on the ocean, tears streaming down his
face. He trudged through the sand, unsure of where he was going
or what he was supposed to do now. As he walked, he felt a
strange sense of emptiness in his chest, as if a part of him had
died along with his hopes and dreams.
Eventually, he found himself in a run-down amusement park that
had been abandoned years ago. The rides were rusty and broken,
the paint peeling, and the only sound was the distant cry of a
seagull. He wandered aimlessly among the empty booths and
carnival games, feeling as lost and alone as he had ever been.
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