SEXUAL ESCAPADES OF PISTACHIO

WARNING-EXTREME PARODY

By some people's standards, this is a very disturbing parody of a Disney standard. It's totally filled with gratuitous sex, violence and coarse language. You have been forewarned so don't bother sending me emails complaining because I really don't give a shit if you are offended.

 A TWISTED FAIRY TALE

In the tiny village of Cunnilinguinni there lived a sad, old man named Geppetto Corleone. His life emotionally empty since the tragic death of his wife Paloma twenty years ago. God, he so dearly missed this woman! She had been, without question, the most beautiful woman in the village! Her hair was as black and shiny as new spun silk and she had eyes that were as green as emeralds. She was warm, kind and a friend to all who met her. And her knockers! Jesus Christ, she had tits you would absolutely die for! There wasn't  a man in the village who could walk by her without getting a boner.

Tit Shot of Paloma

In those twenty years since her death, Geppetto very rarely left his home, preferring to live the life of a recluse.He spent nearly every waking hour at his workbench, either working on his beloved puppets or tearfully gazing at a picture of Paloma. Their's had been a storybook romance. They had fallen in love the moment they met and were married just a few months later.

Both had talked about having many, many children. The wonderful sounds of laughter and chatter filling the house. But that was not to be for there was something terribly wrong. Despite the fact that Geppetto was banging her at least five times a day, he couldn't knock her up. Finally, in desperation, Geppetto had taken Paloma to the village doctor for some answers. Sadly, they were told she would never be able to bear children. Something about a botched abortion when she was twelve years old. Upon hearing this shocking news from the doctor, it took a lot of restraint on Geppetto's part not to knock the cunt off her chair. His Paloma was a whore!

To say things were a little tense in the Corleone home would have been an understatement. Geppetto began to drink heavily. And when Geppetto got totally shit faced, he became very violent and abusive towards Paloma. Forcing her to perform degrading sexual acts that included locally grown produce such as cucumbers, zucchini and butternut squash.

Paloma's shame, grief and anguish became overwhelming. Even if Geppetto hadn't tied her to a chair, she wouldn't have left the cottage, not even to go to church.  Finally, Paloma could not bear it anymore. Her spiral into depression became unbearable and she took her own life by crushing in the back of her skull with a blunt instrument. No small feat considering her hands were tied behind her back!

Carmella, Paloma's sister, was extremely suspicious of this so called suicide. Being a staunch Catholic, Paloma would never have taken her own life. Just days after putting Paloma to rest, Carmella angrily confronted Geppetto with her suspicions.

"You're an evil man Geppetto and you're going to rot in hell for what you have done!" Carmella said. Her voice filled with unbridled anger.

"I don't know what you're talking about, you fucking cow," calmly replied Geppetto with a shit-eating grin which only added to Carmella's fury.

"You know very well what I mean! You killed my sister and you're going to pay!" she seethed. "And tomorrow, I'm going to the police!"

"Really?" replied Geppetto in a calm voice that belied the anger that was now seething inside him. "I think maybe should make sure all your windows and doors are securely locked and bolted before you sleep tonight."

"I think my husband will have something to say about your threats, Geppetto!" she replied. The threat had confirmed her suspicions that this man had murdered her sister.

"You've got to be shitting me. What is that pussy whipped faggot going to do about it?" the sarcasm heavy in his voice.

The towns people were stunned by a double tragedy in less than one week. On the night before she was going to go to the police, Carmella had also decide to end her life by crushing in the back of her skull with a blunt instrument. Not to be outdone by her sister, she tied her hands and her feet with ropes. Even if Carmella had gone to the police, it would have been an effort in futility. Every member of the police force could have qualified for the Special Olympics.

Geppetto's own grief and anger got the better of him one evening. With tears running down his cheeks and Paloma's picture clutched in his hand, he exploded. He threw her picture against the wall breaking it into a hundred pieces.

"It was all your fault, you bitch! I wasted twenty years of my life banging a barren cow. I may as well have been jacking off for all the good it did. My father was right! I should have married that whore Angelina Balboa. She's been a popping out the babies like a fuggating rabbit! Or better yet, I should have become a Priest! That Father Fanducci is getting more stray pussy than the Milan SPCA!"

He then turned back to the work table and picked up his latest creation, a wooden marionette he had named Pistachio. With the love and passion of a true artist, he used his paint brush to finish off the little smile on it's lips. These puppets, he so tenderly worked on, were the replacements for the children he so desperately wanted and it showed in the meticulous craft work.

"If only you were real, my little Pistachio" he sobbed. "I wouldn't be so lonely. We could have talks, I would get you a puppy and go to the park....and ...and...!" He couldn't finish the sentence as he began to sob uncontrollably. He gently put the little wooden boy down. To take his mind off his pain and sorrow, he picked up another of his puppets he was working on. It was a special order from the prestigious Russian Traveling Puppet Show. His workmanship on this number was just as meticulous as it was on Pistachio. Prince Vladmir had just made one stipulation-I want the bitch to look hot. "No problem," said Geppetto, "carving tits are my specialty!!"

After getting into his night clothes, Geppetto shuffled over to the window and looked up into night sky. When he was a little boy and he was feeling sad and lonely his mother gave him some advice.

"Now what the fuck was it she used to say to me?" wondered Geppetto. "Now I remember! She said Geppetto, quit being such an asshole and pussy. You're going to end up a total jagg-off like your father!"

Smiling to himself he turned around and began to shuffle back to his bedroom when it hit him. Fuck me! That's not it. Goddamn it, what the Christ was it she said? Ah yes, that was it! Wish upon a star! He shuffled back to the window and got down on his knees and looked to the stars. When he spotted the brightest of stars, he made a wish. His wish was for a son. A son who could carry on his name. A son who make his house a real home. A son he could molest if he got hard up. JUST KIDDING!!

After finishing his wish, he slowly got off his knees and sadly shuffled back to the work bench. He slowly bent over and blew out the flickering candle. Picking up his latest copy of 'Jugs & Pussies' he headed to the bedroom to jerk-off before going to sleep.

THE AWAKENING

Geppetto should have heeded the warning-Be careful, what you wish! For one day it might just come true! Sitting quietly in the corner of the workshop was a tiny little cricket named Jiminy who was about to make the wish come true. This cricket considered himself one of the luckiest and most blessed of all the Disney characters. He could have been Old Yeller, a lab so gentle and loving, even Michael Vick would have thought twice before torturing it. Old Yeller had the misfortune of having his head blown off by a shot gun blast. What was that all about?  Or he could have been Bambi's mother who got burned to a cinder in a forest fire! Or worse yet, he could have been Goofy, a full blown retard!

Geppetto's wish for a son was going to be fulfilled by Jiminy. He was going to turn the wooden doll into a living, breathing little boy. Jumping up on the work table, he took from his pocket a pouch of magic dust. Taking a small pinch, he sprinkled it over Pistachio. It glistened like tiny, sparkling diamonds as it settled on the marionette.

A miraculous transformation started to come over the puppet. His eyes slowly opened and his tiny hands and feet began to move. He raised his head, then tried in vain to stand, but could not do so because of the strings attached to them. His head was then filled with many questions. Where am I? Who am I? What am I doing with strings attached to me? Spotting Jiminy, Pistachio uttered his first words as a real little boy. "Hey cockroach, don't just stand there with your thumb up your ass, get a knife and cut these fucking strings off me, I can't move!"

This was very odd thought Jiminy, taken aback by this smart-ass, little mother fucker. This isn't the language you would expect from a little boy! Mr. Disney never wrote this kind of shit into his stories! Maybe Walt had relapsed and was fucked up on coke again when he wrote this fairytale!

"Look little fella, that's a terrible thing to say! I'm not a cockroach, I'm a cricket," exclaimed Jiminy. Against his better judgement, he picked up a pocket knife and began cutting the strings attached to Pistachio. The first of many mistakes that would be made on this night.

"Cockroach, cricket what's the difference, you're still a disgusting insect," said Pistachio, rising to his feet he began taking a few awkward and tentative steps on his unencumbered legs. He then noticed the pouch in Jiminy's hand. "What's in the bag, roach?"

"Why you mealy mouthed little prick! This is my magic dust," explained the cricket. "It has wondrous powers that can make dreams and wishes come true. You don't want to fuck around with this stuff!"

"No shit," said the foul-mouthed puppet. "Shhhhhh! Did you hear that?" A nasty plan was already in the works for this devious little boy! "Hey man, what the fuck is that behind you?" exclaimed Pistachio, pointing to something behind the cricket.

Shhh! Gonna fuck her up!

How was Jiminy to know that this puppet had the personality of a psychotic sociopath? If the cricket had only known the evil that was lurking in the mind of this sick and twisted marionette, he would have used some caution. But his guard was down and he made his second mistake of the night. Jiminy turned to see what Pistachio was pointing at. The puppet took the opportunity to pick up a wooden mallet. As quick as a cat, he was behind the cricket. Taking a vicious swing, he caught Jiminy on the side of the head, tearing off one of his feelers. Jiminy crumpled to his knees, then fell over on his side, blood pouring from a terrible gash in his head.

The pouch containing the magic powder fell from his hand, it's contents spilling out on the table. Pistachio gave the cricket a nudge with his foot. There was no response from the crumpled heap. Getting on his hands and knees, the little feller pressed a finger to one of his nostrils then snorted up a couple of lines of the powder. When the shit hit his brain he flipped over backwards as if he had been shocked with a current of electricity.

Getting back up on his wobbling legs, he began staggering around the table. He was completely fucked up. He felt the blood rushing through his veins. His new heart was pounding in his chest. He felt exhilarated. He suddenly stopped in his tracks. Laying open on the table was an old cum-stained copy of Playboy. Looking at the centerfold, he was struck with a new, overwhelming feeling. He had to get laid! Looking around, his eyes took in a wondrous sight. It was Slutskya, the marionette Prince Vladmir had ordered from Geppetto. 

Pistachio's eyes grew dark and an evil grin appeared on his face. He stumbled back to the cricket and took another handful of magic dust. He reeled back to Slutskya and sprinkled her with dust. As it had with him, a magical transformation began to work on her wooden body. Her tiny eyes opened and  focused on Pistachio. A terrible fear gripped her. She didn't know shit before this moment, but she knew waht she was looking at now. She was in for a world of hurt.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Pistachio went into a fever pitched frenzy. He began tearing at her clothes. She let out a scream which was immediately cut short by a vicious backhand from Pistachio. "One more peep out of you bitch, and I swear I will cut your fucking head off!" said Pistachio, his fetid breath nearly making Slutskya gag. Staring at her naked body, he marveled at Geppetto's craftsmanship. A perfect set of tits and the sweetest little knot-hole.

"Vat are you go ink to do to me,' cried a very frightened Slutskya, trembling in terror and vainly trying to cover up her tits and knot-hole, unable to do so because of the strings attached to her arms.

"I'm not going to do anything slut! But you're going to everything that I tell you, otherwise you're going to end up a pile of toothpicks! The first thing you are going to do is blow me!" laughed Pistachio as he dropped his pants. "Aw shit!" he screamed. "Where the fuck is my cock!"

Slutskya began to giggle at Pistachio's predicament. "Hey big man, vere is your svarska?"

"You're dead, bitch!" he screamed as he staggered back to grab some magic dust. He had to wish himself a new cock and get back to business. He was undecided on whether to keep the cunt around for a whoile or just kill after he fucked her six ways from Sunday!

As he bent over to grab some dust, a very pissed-off cricket jumped on his back and put him in a choke hold. Nearly blinded by the blood running into his eyes, Jiminy began wrenching his his arms back and forth, trying to snap the little prick's neck.

"Don't ever fuck with a cricket. You ripped one of my feelers off! I'm a fucking mutant because of you! I am going to kill you, you sawed-off little prick!" screamed Jiminy. He could feel the strength sapping from the little cock suckers body as he continued to squeeze.

His vision was beginning to cloud and tiny pin pricks of light were flashing off in his brain. Jesus Christ, this guy is seriously trying to kill me! In desperation, Pistachio reached over his shoulder and grabbed onto Jiminy's remaining feeler. With a mighty effort, he flipped the cricket over his head. Jiminy bounced once then rolled over the edge of the table and landed with a sickening thud on the floor. Two of his six legs were snapped off when he hit the ground. Undeterred though, he began to scale up the leg of the table.

"No one, not even a Russian slut-puppet, gets raped while on my watch!" screamed Jiminy reaching up for the edge of the table. "I'm going to tear that wooden midget a new asshole!"

After liberally sprinkling his vacant crotch with magic dust, Pistachio was now sporting a mean looking boner. With a disgusting leer on his face, Pistachio swaggered toward Slutskya. When he reached her, he grabbed her by the ears and began to grind his crotch into her face.

"You're going to be pulling slivers out of your mouth for a week!" screamed Pistachio with blood lust in his voice.

"Not so fast cock-face!" yelled a triumphant Jiminy, holding a nail gun in his hand. "Get your mitts off the slut and step away you mahogany rapist!" 

"He, hey, take it easy cockroach. I didn't mean to hurt you! Look, you said a few things. I said a few things. Next thing you know, things have gotten a bit out of hand!" said the mischievous little cock-sucker. Using his new found quick wits, he attempted to lull the bug into a sense of false security. "Look, I softened the bitch up a little bit. To show you what a sport I am, you can fuck her first."

"Look, asshole, I told you I was a cricket!" screamed Jiminy, pulling the trigger on the nail gun three times in quick succession.

THE STARTLING

Geppetto awoke with a start and sat up in bed. Trying to clear the cob webs from his head, he wondered what had awakened him. The he heard the voices coming from his work shop. It sounded like there were three people. Two guys in a heated argument and a young girl about to get sexually molested.

Fear gripped him as he pondered his options. I'm just an old man. Maybe they'll come into the bedroom and kill me! I have no weapons or anything to defend myself, what am I to do?

"I know," he said quietly to himself, "Guido has a shotgun. I'll sneak out the window and go get it!"

Slipping out of bed, he tip-toed to the window and slid it open. Just as he got one leg over the sill, he lost his balance and tumbled into a rose bush. His fear was replaced with rage. Who the fuck planted these fucking bushes here? Thrashing his arms and legs, he tried to claw his way out of the thorny hell. The more he thrashed, the worse his predicament got. Nearly every stitch of clothing had been torn off in this momentous struggle.

Finally, he was able to work his way out of the bushes and crawl out on to the road. He got back up on his wobbly legs. He was now bleeding profusely from hundreds of gashes left by the rose thorns. He quickly made his way to the home of Guido and Maria, his next door neighbors, and began to pound on their door.

"Guido! Guido! Open the door! I need your shotgun!" screamed Geppetto, as panic gripped him to his very soul.

Now it was Guido and Maria's turn to be startled awake. The pounding on the door continued. Maria grabbed onto Guido in terror.

"What is it," whispered Maria in abject terror.

"How the fuck should I know! I was sleeping," answered Guido, fear gripping his voice. "Stay here. I'll take a look through the curtain."

Tip-toeing to the window, he cracked open the curtain and looked out. He then crept back into the bedroom.

"Who is it dear?" asked Maria.

"It's Geppetto! He's naked and covered in blood," replied Guido as he rummaged around in the closet.

"Does he have a blunt instrument in his hand? Do you think someone else has committed suicide? Is he here to suicide us too? Oh, Madonna, I don't want........

"Shut the fuck up!" screamed Guido pulling his shotgun out of a box. He snapped it open, popped in two shells and snapped it shut again.

"Please, don't tell me you're going to give him a gun," pleaded Maria.
 
Guido didn't even bother to answer. he just gave her the-What are you? A stunned cunt or what?-look and went to the door.

"Geppetto? You have 10 seconds to get off my porch or I'll cut you in two", he shouted. To emphasis the point, he blew a hole through the door just inches over Geppetto's head.

"Fuck me," Geppetto said, deciding to cut his losses and get the fuck out of there. As he raced back to his house, he realized he was bloody and naked. The sound of gun fire was sure to bring the cops. One of these days those retards were going to put two and two together and realize he was one fucked up dude. He crawled back in through his bedroom window.

He decided to take a chance and see what was going on in his workshop. He crept over and opened the door just a snatch hair and peeked out. He couldn't believe what he was witnessing.

THE RECKONING

Pistachio was quick, but not quick enough. Ducking to the left, the first two nails just whizzed by his head. Unfortunately, Slutskya was impaled with both nails! One struck her in the head, the second lodged in her right hooter! Readjusting his aim, Jiminy's third shot caught Pistachio in the left side of his chest and spun him like a top.

Triumphantly standing over the wooden pervert, Jiminy brought up the nail gun and aimed it at Pistachio head. "Any last words dick-wad before I kill you?" stammered the battered and bloody cricket.

To Pistachio, it was nothing but a blur as the shoe came down on Jiminy. The cricket's guts exploded out his asshole and splattered against the wall. Standing over the bench was Geppetto, his shoe raised for another strike on the cricket.

"What's going on here?" screamed the puppet master as he dropped the shoe and lovingly picked up his puppet. "What miracle has brought life to my Pistachio?" said Geppetto. tears of joy running down his cheeks.

The little prick began to whimper like a bitch. With a demeanor that belied the fact that he was responsible for the carnage that had taken place, Pistachio looked up at Geppetto and whimpered, "Daddy, you saved me."

So ends part one of Pistachio.

Doc