CaptainWacky
I want to smell dark matter
His stomach was aching. It came from nowhere. Okay, he'd eaten a lot earlier, but he ate crap every day. It shouldn't effect him, nothing should effect him!
He realised he'd have to use the toilet very soon.
He wanted to finish his message board postings first. He only had a few more to go. He felt better as he lost himself in spam for another five minutes.
It was only when he stopped that he felt terrible again. He shut down the computer. Perhaps he should rush straight to the toilet, he wondered? No, he could hold it in. Of course he could!
He suddenly remembered that life was fucking pointless and that he had nothing to offer, no personality, no wit, no intellect, he'd never fit in, IT WOULD NEVER GET ANY BETTER.
He felt like he was going to crap his pants.
Then he crapped his pants.
How could it have happened? He had CONTROL. He always had control! Over his bowels, at least.
He ran upstairs, he could feel more coming. Oh god...
He threw the door open, pulling his trousers and pants down as quickly as he could as he did. It wasn't quick enough.
He saw liquid shit spraying onto the floor. He knew he'd stood on it too. He sat down and sprayed the bowl. He noticed some of the shit was on his trouser leg too. That was okay...he could deal with that. He shut his eyes for a moment.
He wanted to go away.
But he was hearing, he had diarrhea, he'd shat on the floor and he had to face it. He looked down again.
It was then that he noticed his underpants were covered in shit. Well, of course they were. He should have known.
It wasn't just at the bottom of his trousers either, it was all down the leg.
He tried to laugh but he couldn't. He tried to get angry but he couldn't.
He calmly took off the sock he'd stepped in shit with. He threw it in the bin.
He wished he could throw himself in the bin.
He looked down at the shit on the floor. How we he going to clean it up? He wasn't sure how to clean shit.
A madness took him.
He threw himself face down on the bathroom floor and managed to laugh. He inched his face closer to the shit...and stuck his face in it.
He licked the shit off the floor. He smeared it all over his face. He stood up and danced around. "I'm shit man!" he said, then louder. "I AM SHITMAN!"
That's who he was!
He pulled his trousers and pants up hastily, feeling the shit still in his underpants squelch as he did. He didn't care. He threw the bathroom door open again and ran down the stairs in the dark. It was 2am, but Shitman wanted to go outside.
He opened the door, licking some shit off his lips as he did.
"I'M SHITMAN!" he announced to the cold, dark world. "I AM THE MAN OF SHIT YOU FUCKERS!" He danced around in his front garden.
Then he heard a car. He hid behind the tree in his garden. It was a taxi, across the road. He could hear girls laughing. It was the two young women who lived across the road. The two women he'd masturbated over but never actually talked to.
He decided to introduce them to Shitman.
He stepped out from behind the tree and confidently walked out to the taxi. They were still inside, joking with the driver. He could see them clearly in the street light too.
Then they saw him.
He remembered for a moment that he had shit all over his face (and tongue) and all down one leg of his trousers. He didn't care. He banged on the car window.
"HELLO LADIES, I'M SHITMAN!" he opened the door and jumped in beside them. "HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERE'S SHITMAN!" he said, grabbing the nearest girl for a hug. She recoiled in fear. "DON'T YOU WANT TO HUGE OLD SHITTY?" he asked.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?" asked the taxi driver. He got out the car. One of the girls tried to hit him as he did, but she missed. STUPID BITCH.
"HI THERE, I'M SHITMAN, WANT TO EAT SOME SHIT?" he asked the taxi driver, who had gotten out too.
"What the fuck are you doing scaring those lassies!? And...what's that on your face!?"
"IT'S SHIT YOU FUDGENOSER! HEHE!" he dived at the driver, swinging his fists ineffectively. The driver shoved him back then punched him on his shit-smeared face. He tried not to fall. He had control, surely! He had control!
He fell!
"But I'm shitman!" he moaned. He could see one of the girls on her mobile. "DON'T CALL THE COPS ON SHITMAN!"
"Shut the fuck up, Shitman," said the driver, kicking him between the legs.
____________________-
SOS WHa tysdfg
wshjsdklj
sSO WHW HAT
SOS WHAT WOUDL YOU
YDOUS SO sf sfWHAT WOULD YOUD O
YSO YDOU WHAT WOULD YOUD DODOOOOOOOOOOOo
WSO YWOUW WHAT WOULD YOU LDOOOOOOO
WOS SLSJF
SO WHAT WOULD YOU DO?
SO WHAT WOULD YOU DO, HUH?
WHAT WOULD YOU DO?
HUH?
HUH?!?!!
WHAT WOULD YOU DO?//
s
g
agw
g
s
WHAT WOULD YOU DO?
WHAT THE FUCKING HELLFIRE WOULD YOU DO?
WHAT THE BANANAFUCKERS WOUl DYOUD?!
WHAt IN THE NAME OF GERRY'S MONKEY WOULD
s
g
sag
FADING
FACE HURTs
PICKLED ONION BRAIN AGAIN
EMTPY HEAD
NOT EVEN EMPTY
BERING DOWNIGdsa
h
sa
ghNO WO
NOW WORD
sf
s
g
a
shj
WHAT WOULD YOU DO?
WHAT WOULD YOU DO..................IF YOU WERE SHITMAN!!??!?!!?
You'd kill yourself.
Admit it.
You would.
If you suddenly found yourself Shitman, you'd kill yourself.
And you'd be right to do so.
You'd be right.
You could be Shitman.
When you least expect it.....
And when you are you'll know...
YOU'LL NOW WHAT YOU HAVE TO DO!
KNOW
NT NOW
NOT NOW
TYPOS
CNA'T CORRECT THEM
....you'll know what to do when you're Shitman.
You'll know.
He realised he'd have to use the toilet very soon.
He wanted to finish his message board postings first. He only had a few more to go. He felt better as he lost himself in spam for another five minutes.
It was only when he stopped that he felt terrible again. He shut down the computer. Perhaps he should rush straight to the toilet, he wondered? No, he could hold it in. Of course he could!
He suddenly remembered that life was fucking pointless and that he had nothing to offer, no personality, no wit, no intellect, he'd never fit in, IT WOULD NEVER GET ANY BETTER.
He felt like he was going to crap his pants.
Then he crapped his pants.
How could it have happened? He had CONTROL. He always had control! Over his bowels, at least.
He ran upstairs, he could feel more coming. Oh god...
He threw the door open, pulling his trousers and pants down as quickly as he could as he did. It wasn't quick enough.
He saw liquid shit spraying onto the floor. He knew he'd stood on it too. He sat down and sprayed the bowl. He noticed some of the shit was on his trouser leg too. That was okay...he could deal with that. He shut his eyes for a moment.
He wanted to go away.
But he was hearing, he had diarrhea, he'd shat on the floor and he had to face it. He looked down again.
It was then that he noticed his underpants were covered in shit. Well, of course they were. He should have known.
It wasn't just at the bottom of his trousers either, it was all down the leg.
He tried to laugh but he couldn't. He tried to get angry but he couldn't.
He calmly took off the sock he'd stepped in shit with. He threw it in the bin.
He wished he could throw himself in the bin.
He looked down at the shit on the floor. How we he going to clean it up? He wasn't sure how to clean shit.
A madness took him.
He threw himself face down on the bathroom floor and managed to laugh. He inched his face closer to the shit...and stuck his face in it.
He licked the shit off the floor. He smeared it all over his face. He stood up and danced around. "I'm shit man!" he said, then louder. "I AM SHITMAN!"
That's who he was!
He pulled his trousers and pants up hastily, feeling the shit still in his underpants squelch as he did. He didn't care. He threw the bathroom door open again and ran down the stairs in the dark. It was 2am, but Shitman wanted to go outside.
He opened the door, licking some shit off his lips as he did.
"I'M SHITMAN!" he announced to the cold, dark world. "I AM THE MAN OF SHIT YOU FUCKERS!" He danced around in his front garden.
Then he heard a car. He hid behind the tree in his garden. It was a taxi, across the road. He could hear girls laughing. It was the two young women who lived across the road. The two women he'd masturbated over but never actually talked to.
He decided to introduce them to Shitman.
He stepped out from behind the tree and confidently walked out to the taxi. They were still inside, joking with the driver. He could see them clearly in the street light too.
Then they saw him.
He remembered for a moment that he had shit all over his face (and tongue) and all down one leg of his trousers. He didn't care. He banged on the car window.
"HELLO LADIES, I'M SHITMAN!" he opened the door and jumped in beside them. "HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERE'S SHITMAN!" he said, grabbing the nearest girl for a hug. She recoiled in fear. "DON'T YOU WANT TO HUGE OLD SHITTY?" he asked.
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING!?" asked the taxi driver. He got out the car. One of the girls tried to hit him as he did, but she missed. STUPID BITCH.
"HI THERE, I'M SHITMAN, WANT TO EAT SOME SHIT?" he asked the taxi driver, who had gotten out too.
"What the fuck are you doing scaring those lassies!? And...what's that on your face!?"
"IT'S SHIT YOU FUDGENOSER! HEHE!" he dived at the driver, swinging his fists ineffectively. The driver shoved him back then punched him on his shit-smeared face. He tried not to fall. He had control, surely! He had control!
He fell!
"But I'm shitman!" he moaned. He could see one of the girls on her mobile. "DON'T CALL THE COPS ON SHITMAN!"
"Shut the fuck up, Shitman," said the driver, kicking him between the legs.
____________________-
SOS WHa tysdfg
wshjsdklj
sSO WHW HAT
SOS WHAT WOUDL YOU
YDOUS SO sf sfWHAT WOULD YOUD O
YSO YDOU WHAT WOULD YOUD DODOOOOOOOOOOOo
WSO YWOUW WHAT WOULD YOU LDOOOOOOO
WOS SLSJF
SO WHAT WOULD YOU DO?
SO WHAT WOULD YOU DO, HUH?
WHAT WOULD YOU DO?
HUH?
HUH?!?!!
WHAT WOULD YOU DO?//
s
g
agw
g
s
WHAT WOULD YOU DO?
WHAT THE FUCKING HELLFIRE WOULD YOU DO?
WHAT THE BANANAFUCKERS WOUl DYOUD?!
WHAt IN THE NAME OF GERRY'S MONKEY WOULD
s
g
sag
FADING
FACE HURTs
PICKLED ONION BRAIN AGAIN
EMTPY HEAD
NOT EVEN EMPTY
BERING DOWNIGdsa
h
sa
ghNO WO
NOW WORD
sf
s
g
a
shj
WHAT WOULD YOU DO?
WHAT WOULD YOU DO..................IF YOU WERE SHITMAN!!??!?!!?
You'd kill yourself.
Admit it.
You would.
If you suddenly found yourself Shitman, you'd kill yourself.
And you'd be right to do so.
You'd be right.
You could be Shitman.
When you least expect it.....
And when you are you'll know...
YOU'LL NOW WHAT YOU HAVE TO DO!
KNOW
NT NOW
NOT NOW
TYPOS
CNA'T CORRECT THEM
....you'll know what to do when you're Shitman.
You'll know.
