STAND BY ME-PARODY PART II

Tabitha King

INCREDIBLY FUCKED UP ADVENTURE PART II


This is the second part of my absolutely disgusting Stephen King parody. I have been blessed with a new supply of pharmaceuticals to assist with my inspirational writing. Before I start though, have you ever wondered how fucked-up the real Stephen King's childhood must have been? All the little kids in his stories are never into baseball, video games, Scouts, paper routes, etc. No fucking way! These kids are more interested in dead bodies, starting fires, cavorting with ex-Nazi's, torturing animals and nasty shit like that. This is my homage to the man. Feel free to read any of my blogs to your kids as bed time stories.


BARTLETT, FUNGUS, DIPSHIT & GNARLY GO APESHIT

Gnarly

Bartlett was on two weeks suspension from school because of an incident during a 'Show and Tell'. The Smith & Wesson he had brought, accidentally discharged twice striking his teacher in the back. Bartlett did an excellent job of convincing both the Principal and police that the accident had nothing to do with the fact the teacher had given Bartlett three Ds and two Fs on his last report card.

With two weeks off and nothing to do, Bartlett asked his friends Fungus, Dipshit and Gnarly if they wanted to take some time off school and join him on an adventure.


None of them seemed to interested in Bartlett's idea so he decided to ramp it up."How'd you guys like to see a dead kid down by the tracks near Bangor?"

"I didn't know there was a dead kid by the tracks", said an excited Dipshit.

"There isn't yet," said Bartlett "but I'm pretty sure the four of us can do something about that! I was thinking of asking that mongoloid, Garth, if he wanted to go on a little road trip with us. Are you guys up for it?"

"Fucking right!" they all shouted in unison.

Bartlett

Gnarly added, "This is going to be more fun than the time we chained the doors on the old folks home then set it on fire!"

"Okay then, I want you guys go home and round up some supplies. We'll need food and lots of weapons"

"Yeah," said an excited Fungus, "bring tons of fucking weapons. On our way out of town we can shoot up the school! Wanna know something? I don't know which part is cooler, seeing a dead kid laying by the tracks, or being the ones who are going to put it there!"

Fungus & Dipshit

Half hour later they were back and taking inventory of their supplies. Fungus had a pound of bologna, a loaf bread and his dad's AK47. He had made a stop at Pete's Gun Store and purchased a 1,000 rounds of ammo, no questions asked.

Dipshit had a couple of cans wieners & beans, some buns and a tactical shotgun. As for Gnarly, he discovered his dad's hiding spot for the .50 calibre Schmauzer, equipped with a laser scope, but he hadn't found any food in his house. So he had walked into Ming Wo's Corner Store and clubbed the Chinaman over the head with an ax handle, then helped himself to a 12 pack of Budweiser's, a carton of Lucky Strikes and a box of Captain Crunch cereal.

Bartlett still had the Smith & Wesson, but for added insurance he brought along his fathers Uzi. His dad said one good thing about the Hebe's was that they made a dandy hunting rifle. Slinging their weapons, the boys headed out on a adventure that would soon turn into one serious mind-fuck.

CHAPTER 2

Chief Walker

As they were walking by the Bangor police station they ran into Chief Walker. "Hey, hey, hey! Wait a second boys, what the fuck are you doing with all these weapons?"

 The boys weren't too worried by the presence of the chief. It was a well known fact that he was only firing on a couple of cylinders.

"We're going fishing, Chief!" calmly replied Gnarly.

"Thank God for that! For one second there I thought you kids might be up to some shenanigans. I like to see boys taking an interest in a hobby. You wanna know what I think?

"Not really," said Bartlett, "but knock yourself out.

His eyes glazed over and he stared off into the distance."I think too many of today's young kids are doomed! Listening to that hip hop shit and smoking dope. Why any good ol white kid wants to act like a nigger is beyond me. I heard Dr. Phil say on TV that even niggers don't want to be niggers! Jesus Christ, i think we're totally fucked."

Snapping out of his trance he commented on the boy's fishing equipment. "You won't get shit with that kind of fishing gear! You got to use dynamite. A couple of sticks and you'll have your limit in minutes! Wait here a second and I'll grab you a handful from the evidence room."

Not believing this great stroke of luck, they enthusiastically agreed to wait. "Can you believe this dumb fuck is actually the chief of police?" said an incredulous Gnarly.

The chief returned with a dozen sticks of TNT. "Be careful with these babies. In the wrong hands they could do a lot of damage. Some sand niggers could blow up half the town with these!"

Just then an Army jeep raced by with a whole bunch of panic stricken soldiers in it. An MP screamed a warning to the dumb-struck boys. "Get the fuck out of here. We had an explosion in one of the labs. A shit storm is going to hit soon!" Looking over his shoulder, he saw a mist slowly rolling towards town.

"Well, you don't see that everyday," dead panned the Chief. "That reminds me! Mrs. Maulder says she saw a bunch of clowns over by Miller's Pond. They seem to dragging little kids into the woods. As soon as my deputies are finished coffe break I'll send them over to have a look see. I don't know what the big fucking deal is! Who heard of clowns doing bad things to kids?"

"Isn't that interesting," said Dipshit. Giving Bartlett a conspiratorial wink, he asked the cop, "By the way, have you found the Epstein twins?" (See part one)

"Not a whiff, but I was talking to that expert with the FBI and he is pretty sure they ran away and joined the circus. He says about 80,000 kids in the USA run away every year and join the circus!" Some as young as four years old! Who'd a thunk it?" said an incredulous Chief.

Chapter 8

As it turned out, the boys adventure lasted a total of four blocks before they got tired and bored. They decided to see if the rumor was true that old man Robertson and his wife really did have a million bucks worth of gold hidden in their basement. They were now sitting at the old fuckers kitchen table, dividing the loot they had found.

Bartlett was totally pissed as he looked at their miserable take. Fifty-nine cents, a broken Timex and 4 gold fillings. It had taken Fungus an hour to remove them from a struggling Mrs. Robinson, using an old set of needle-nose pliers.

"Ah fuck it," said a resolute Bartlett, "the day's not completely ruined. Let's go find that retard Garth and take him down to the tracks and shoot him! The we can get our picture in the paper after we tell everyone we found him."

"Oh, oh!" said a very concerned Dipshit. looking out the front window. "Look's like those Army guys were fucking us over!. There's a mist rolling in and it looks like shit is going down!"

Bartlett joined Dipshit at the window and surveyed the scene. "We better barricade the doors and get upstairs," said Bartlett. "Knowing Stephen King, there is going to be a shit-storm of fucking creatures coming after us".

After barricading the doors and windows on the lower floor, the lads moved their arsenal of weapons to the upstairs bedroom. Peering out the window the boys tallied up the creatures that were milling about in the mist. There were the obligatory huge spiders Mr. King seemed to get a boner over. They also spotted a couple of rabid St. Bernards, some Martians and a couple dozen clowns.

"Hey," said an excited Gnarly. "Isn't that Drew Barrymore wandering around over there? What the fuck is she doing? Do you think she's looking for Tom Green?"

"Jeezus Christ, she thinks she still playing her role in 'Fire Starter'!" said an excited Bartlett. "Fuck me, I have prayed to God for an opportunity like this. Hand me the Schmauzer!"

(In respect to Drew, the descriptive scene of Bartlett blowing her away has been deleted)

 "How do you think that dumb-fuck King thinks up this shit?" opined Gnarly.

"Don't ask stupid questions," laughed Bartlett, "haven't you seen a picture of him?"

"Oh, my God" screamed Dipshit, "Isn't that your mother trapped in the doorway of the main library?"

Bartlett strained his eyes in an attempt to see through the mist. Sure enough, he spotted his poor mother, cowering in fear as a couple of clowns circled her.

"Oh, my God! I got to do something!" stammered Bartlett as he shouldered the high power rifle and took careful aim. Squeezing the trigger, the gun exploded with a huge muzzle flash. His mother's head exploded and her lifeless body dropped to the ground. The clowns stood in stunned disbelief. wondering what the fuck had just taken place.

"Nice shot," said a thoroughly impressed Fungus. as he squeezed off two shots from his tactical shotgun. One of the clowns exploded, turning the mist a pinkish tint!

The boys took their positions at the window. The rifles locked and loaded but they couldn't see the clowns anymore.

"Shit, where the fuck did they all go?" wondered Gnarly.

"I guess the gunfire scared them off. Don't sweat it, though, I have a great idea," said Bartlett, totally ramped-up in the anticipation of creating a blood bath. He left his mates, walked down the stairs and entered the living room. Still bound and taped to chairs were Mr. and Mrs. Robertson.

"Okay you old geezers, if you want to live another day, you'll do exactly what I tell you. Understand?" asked Bartlett.

"Yes, we'll do anything you ask, but please don't hurt us," whimpered Mr. Robertson. "Please go easy on my wife, her heart is........" a butt end from the rifle in Bartlett's hands cut him short and knocked him off his chair.

"Shut the fuck up and listen!" screamed Bartlett, "Now I want you to go outside and walk to the corner. I then want you stand perfectly still under the street light. If you move, I guarantee I will put a fucking bullet in your heads. Got it!"

"What kind of kids are you?" whimpered Mrs. Robinson.

"Don't ask me, ask Stephen King! Now get the fuck out of here!"

Bartlett raced back upstairs to join his friends. The excitement and anticipation in the air was palpable as they watched the old couple nervously creep towards the light post.

"Oh, dear," cried Mrs. Robertson, spotting an evil looking clown riding on the back of a spider. "That doesn't look very good, Norman!"

"No shit Sheila! And what was your first fucking clue?" whined Mr. Robertson.

Scared shitless, the old geezers stopped and looked up at the window, hoping the boys would show them some mercy.

"Please boys, don't hurt us," blubbered the Mrs. Robertson, "Me and my husband haven't done you any harm."

"Shut the fuck up!' screamed Fungus, firing a warning shot from the shotgun which took the old lady's leg off at the knee.

Mr. Robertson, in total shock, tried to help his wife to her to her foot. Propping her against the light pole, he went back and retrieved her leg. In a vain attempt, he tried to re-attach her leg using his shoe laces.

The boys began to laugh hysterically at this futilility in the old man's actions. In disgust he turned to them and began to scream at them. "You little fuckers are going to roast in hell!"

"Don't look now, old man, but your wife just fell over," said Dipshit, tears running down his cheeks, he was laughing so hard.

I've got to stop for a couple of hours, my brain is hurting me. I am continuously editing and adding to the stories. So check back every once in awhile and see what kind of sick shit I have added. I was thinking of doing an editorialization on Race Relations but that is a really fucked-up topic to write on. I have two pictures here. One is me, the other is my hero, Mr. King. Send me an email with the correct answer and you could win the grand prize. The winner gets to engage in a cluster fuck with Paris, Britney, Lindsay, Drew and a couple of other hot babes.