XWF∞

The scene opens to Morbid Angel in the shower. He appears to be still scrubbing off the scent of shit from the freezer match.

It is a difficult thing, to wash off a shit smell. It always wants to linger and considering the amounts of shit, the undying fear of having caught Cdiff from Ghost Tank shit…Mother of god!

It has been almost a week since the match and he smells like a shitty skunk sprayed him. He tried gasoline, acetone, colognes, bleach and even piss.

Nothing seems to work getting rid of the smell…he might even have to shave his head just to get somewhat clean again…and this is why people don’t bathe in tubs full of shit and piss..

Morbid is dressed like one would expect. Mostly naked except for his black bikini bottoms that he wears for the camera. Motherfucker, kids are watching and he doesn’t want to become one of those types of people just showing off their fat cocks at every turn.

Not mentioning any names….Maddy.

I know Morbid Angel had whipped it out on national tv for the injection that Madison stole but it was out of pure necessity for the moment. Like Popeye and his spinach it’s Morbid and his cockroids.

The interviewer walks into the room after the camera was recording for a few moments, sometimes Morbid doesn’t wait and just starts talking to the camera and in this case it would have made the interviewer more comfortable if he didn’t have this smelly monster mostly naked with a questionable taste for men just feet from him while he holds the microphone. Hell, what can you do when it’s your job. You got to suck that shit up and fucking do it to the best of your ability and if Morbid rapes you then goddamnit, you wear that rape with pride!

Get a fucking shirt made that says “Got Raped by Morbid Angel and Survived” because his dick had been injected so much that it’s like a small leg betwixt his real legs. Fucking thing should be amputated for being a fucking mutant phallus. Got trackmarks in it from all the injecting and it’s just fucking bad.

If you try and go after someone sexually with It, you would just have to rape them because the sight of that thing would make you fear for your life. Goddamn thing looks sick.

Anyway, the interviewer walks up to Morbid the smelly prick that he is and holds the microphone to his face while he was once again bathing with piss that he gathered from his own toilet over the course of the last week.

The smell left something to be desired for sure.

“Morbid Angel, I am here to talk with you about your upcoming match against Twinkletoes McFingerbang. What are your thoughts on the match?”

Morbid scrubs the urine into his hair vigorously in hopes that a second dose on the piss would do the trick to clean the stench off…doesn’t smell like it’s working.

“I don’t give a shit about him. I give a shit about what’s going on right now and that is a whole lot of shit! In the last week I had to deal with a freezer match that was stolen from me by a needle stealing bitch named Maddy, he stole that needle with the intent to fucking take my victory! Bastard!

Who does that to another man’s dick needle?

He just stuck his little cock between me and my delicious needle and stole my injection.

Maddy, your cock looks like it’s little and sickly. I’m not sure how you were able to get your dick in the way without me noticing but that’s OK. Hopefully you didn’t catch the AIDS I contracted back in the early 2000’s when I was sharing needles with all the other roid junkies at my gym. So yeah, I GOT AIDS BITCHES!”

The interviewer looks at the camera and sighs softly. The look of enjoyment in his job is long gone and the shell of the man was just left standing there, partially humiliated as the piss splashes off Morbid’s muscular body and peppers him all over the face.

It’s always worse when it’s someone else’s piss. When it’s your own piss it’s fine, it’s not as gross but someone else’s…fuck man, that shit is nasty.

Not to mention that it was still warm so you know it was a fresh batch he just brewed up with the help of a Snapple.

“Are you saying that you are not worried about Twinkletoes McFingerbang?”

he said as he pulled away a little trying to keep a little distance but to no use. Morbid grabbed his arm and pulled him even closer to the shower, his urine-soaked hand grabbing his. A sharp rush of fear passed through him as the glimpse of rape possibly coming came to mind.

His anus clenched and that was his only defense against the behemoth.

He let out an obvious gasp, partially from the smell and mostly for the impending rape of doom that could happen any second.

What a relief it was when Morbid just positioned the microphone in front of his mouth as he bathed.

“Listen, I don’t fear that man. What pain could he possibly cause me? I have felt everything in the wide spectrum of pain to the very depths of pleasure. Pain is nothing to me!”

“So, you don’t feel pain?” The interviewer said before putting the microphone back into Morbid’s ugly face.

“I didn’t say that. What I mean is I only feel pleasure when I am in pain.” He said as he poured more piss on himself, some of the flow was diverted by his goatee and went down the sleeve of the interviewers suit jacket.

At this point he doesn’t care. All he want’s to do is finish this interview and go home to burn his clothes and probably hang himself in the closet because his job fucking sucks.

“So, you find it pleasurable?”

“Pain is pleasure…but not in a weird way. It’s not like I’m getting hard…well, maybe a little hard but not like a weird amount of hard.”

Morbid starts to rinse himself of the bodily fluid he was bathing in. the interviewer was happy as he watched to make sure he wasn’t getting splashed with piss-juice anymore than he already had been. Morbid takes notice that he was being watched more intently than he really wanted. A weird amount of attention was given to Morbid by the interviewer and that simply won’t do.

“Are you fucking staring at me?”

“No…I…I just..”

 He stammered before Morbid grabbed him by the jacket and pulled him into the shower with him. The cubicle was much too small for two grown men not to mention one the size of Morbid Angel and an average sized man. The interviewer closed his eyes hoping for a broken nose over what else could happen.

Morbid had lifted the man off the ground with his extreme strength, the Interviewers legs just dangle as his arms come up to try and soften any blows that may come to him.

“Why the fuck were you looking at me like that? You a queer or something? I don’t have time for any of that gay shit!”

It was at that moment the interviewer knew that rape was off the table. What a relief it was to not have to worry about his analginity getting wrecked by the massively ugly cock that Morbid has hidden in his bikini brief that was already a little on the small side. Some ballsack spilling out of the side…just horrible to see.

“I just didn’t want anymore pee on me.”

Morbid puts him down.

The water still running and the Interviewer is all soaking wet. Still the smell of shit and urine strong in the air.

“Oh, you are going to get piss on you because you are totally washing my back!”

“But…”

“No buts. I can’t reach that shit! Wash my fucking back and we can do this fucking interview.”

“But…”

“Don’t fucking but me! I will punch you in the fucking asshole!”

Really? Punch him in the asshole? That would be very unpleasant but what else would you expect from Morbid Angel? He just does not give enough of a fuck to not just punch people in the assholes.

It’s a perfectly good threat.

The interviewer hangs his head in shame as Morbid Angel hands him the pitcher of piss and a sponge to wash his back. Morbid Angel turns around and the interviewer is seen dunking the sponge in the deep yellow liquid to scrub the demon’s back!

The scene fades to Black.

It picks up again with Morbid Angel sitting in his office. The smell subsided but is still there. The interviewer is still dripping wet and the look of defeat on his face…he has been shamed by washing a man with his own piss.

Morbid Angel is now fully dressed in his typical black clothing, his hair still damp but pulled back to stay out of his face. His massive arms rest on the desk.

“OK, now I will talk to Kenny Oliver. 

Kenny…Ken…Kenneth…what the fuck is up, man.  What the fuck is up with that name? I know we all try and have a badass name, but I will say yours is not badass. It sounds fucking retarded and were not talking like down syndrome retarded but fucking eating your own shit retarded. 

I don’t really know much about you but If I were a betting man you are one of those weirdo’s that come in here and act shocking…. maybe rape something. Maybe you run around at night breaking into people’s homes and tickle their buttholes.

I don’t know, I’m not you but it seems like something you would do considering the name.

I’m going to agree with myself on what you do. Twinkletoes McButtholetickler. Mix that with Maddy and his pedophile assistant. Oliver Last the man who has all the luck in the world but still can’t fucking win.

How the fuck does that work anyway? Oliver, answer me this. If you have the gift of luck. Then why did you lose our match? How come you got your fucking ass kicked like a little bitch?

Actually, I think you suffered the worst of everything in that match, granted Maddy did get the second worst and I came out a little smelly but relatively uninjured. I think the worst of it came from Maddy and his needle stealing dick!

Anyway, I stray from my target. Fingerbang McDickholesucker.

What do you think you’ll achieve in this match? You want victory? Do you? Is this something you think you can actually have?

I am Morbid Fucking Angel! I REFUSE TO LOSE TO A FUCKING PUNKASS BITCH!

Not to take away the fact that you are also a retard. I can’t wait to see you drool through an interview and defend yourself against my words. That is if you have the fucking balls to say anything before the match.

I dare you!

I double dare you, Motherfucker!”

Morbid sits back in his chair and his landline phone rings.

Who the fuck still has a landline?

Morbid Angel!

He looks at the phone as if to have expected the call.

He quickly answers the call by jerking it from the stand and holding it to his ear without saying a word.

He just listened.

A smile crawled across his face.

“Oh, we are going to fuck these bitches up! We are going to fuck them up hard as a motherfucker!.......Don’t worry about it…………….don’t worry……………..Oh, I got her…………I have an idea.”

The camera and the interviewer slowly leave the room. The camera slowly fades into the distance as the screen goes Blood Red!