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 Death At Sea: The Whole Story

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In Memory of PD


Posts : 51
Join date : 2008-11-14

PostSubject: Death At Sea: The Whole Story   Mon Nov 16, 2009 11:50 pm

Note: Section 1 was originally posted September 12, 2005. The entire story was posted on a new thread in its entirety on February 11, 2006.

PatDaddy Presents:


Episode 1: Death At Sea

It was a swelteringly sunny day as the members of The James Gang Bar-N-Grill™ slowly accumulated at the docks, waiting to board the ship. They had all been sent invitations inviting them to a complimentary cruise. Unfortunately not all of the members were able to accept this invitation. There presences will be missed on this trip.

With the glaring sun behind him, this mountain of a man appeared at the ramp of the ship, casting a shadow over the majority of the people gathered to board.

“Alright motherfuckers, I’m Pat motherfuckin’ Daddy, and it appears as though I’ll be the captain on this trip. What the fuck I know about driving this boat is beyond me, but HEY! .....We’ll make it. :wink1: . This is the USS Bunghoal, aptly named because of some asshole named Major Bunghoal..... or so I’m told.” PD looked around briefly trying to assess the crowd. “I think we’re gonna need some name tags in this motherfucker. Anyways, I am your captain, yada yada yada, you can call me Captain Daddy.... and get the fuck on the boat!” PD said, turning to re-enter the ship. He then turned back to the crowd. “Oh, this is my sidekick, H-Town. He’s basically on this trip for comic relief. Kind of like a little dancing circus monkey. Alright. Get in here and pick your rooms. I ain’t doing everything in this motherfucker. I don’t know how I got into this...................” PD said, mumbling to himself as he entered the Captains chamber.

“.....Let’s see here... a little bong rip never hurt nobody, did it?” PD said to himself, sitting down at his “navigation” table. He reached behind the fire extinguisher sitting next to the table, removing a rather large pistol grip bong. It was purple in color. PD called it the purple people eater. But then, he was rather easily amused. He loaded it with that sweet cheeba, and evaporated into a cloud of smoke....

Steve looked rather annoyed, standing in the corner watching as PD smoked his weed. “Just how in the fuck did I become the lolly-gagging ass clown? .....You didn’t even write me in any beer!” Steve snapped at PD.

PD stared emptily (is that a word?) as his mind came back into focus. “I guess we all have our roles here Steve-O. Don’t ask me, I just work here.” PD replied.

“.......Man, fuck this. I know shit! I can tell you who Jon Bon Jovi blew to record Slippery When Wet, man!” Steve yelled angrily. “You know what, fuck it!” He said, stomping out.

PD exhaled a bong hit, listening to Steve’s muffled voice yelling just outside the cabin.

“CAPTAIN DADDY-LICK JUST TOLD ME TO GIVE EVERYBODY FREE DRINKS TIL MIDNIGHT!” Steve shouted to the cast-- er I mean guests. :wink1:

PD just sat there, bong in hand. “Well fuck. There goes the bar.” After staring at nothing for a few minutes, he shrugged it off and reloaded the bong.


(section 2)

They were all set to set sail when the engine wouldn’t start. Steve came in, having obviously been celebrating pretty hard. “What’s the problem? El boat-o no go-go.”

“Fuckin’ thing won’t start! I don’t know anything about this shit! I hit the thing, and as you say, ‘no go-go’.”

PD pulled on his goatee in a contemplative manner. After a few moments of self deliberation, he then proceeded to wack the console with the business end of a mop handle. As you can imagine, this yielded little result.

Steve went and tinkered with the motor for a few minutes. PD was cleaning some weed for a blunt when Steve yelled out “A’ight, hit it!” PD got up and went to start the boat, and it started right up. So without further delay, the USS Bunghoal set sail.....

It wasn’t too long before the guests were settled in and roaming the ship, most ending up ant the bar where Steve was running a 2-for-1 deal. For every drink he served, he drank two.

“Oh...MY... God!” Kimber said to Goddess who was sitting next to her at the bar. “Do you SEE these people? It’s like I DIED and went to GIT-R-DONE heaven!!”

“I KNOW!! I just know the food is going to be terrible, too. I mean, did you SEE the cook? He looks like God made hamburger helper on his face!”

It was then that Steve slapped 2 shot glasses down on the bar and proceeded to fill them up with Tequila. “Ladies, don’t forget, I have a 16-inch member.” Steve said, cocking an eye brow.

“Yeah, where is RedBob anyway?” Kimber asked.

Steve obviously wasn’t amused. He set the bottle down and said “They’re from the perv at the end.” He said, nodding his head toward Fusty, who was enjoying the festivities.

“Ladies!” Fusty said, raising a shot. “Grandpa always said two lovely ladies such as yourself should never drink alone. He said a little 3-way is always nice. But grandma always said he liked his ass stapled shut while she........ well, story for another time.” Fusty said, getting up and making his way over.

Steve was walking through and immediately collapsed onto the deck in front of Fusty. The deck was saturated in rivers of red. Steve lay there motionless.


Steve started to say something, but it was all in mumbles. Fusty knelt down to hear better and Steve tried again. “It’s... bloody mary mix.” Steve said. “......I think I’ll just take me a nap here..... asshole.” Then Steve fell asleep.


(section 3)

Fusty looked around for a few moments then he asked “Is nobody gonna come scoop this guy up before he gets cornholed?”

Trav and Redbob appeared in custodial gear armed with mops. “Alright. Where’s the vomit?” Trav asked unenthusiastically.

“You two are janitors on this trip? How did you manage that?” Kimber asked, laughing out loud.

“Yeah, don’t give it a thought. I enjoy it.” Trav said sarcastically.

“Steve told us we didn’t have enough money to come, so if we wanted to come we had to do ‘shit detail’, as he put it.” Redbob said, equally as unenthused as Trav.

“Uh, I hate to break this to you two brainiacs, but this cruise was free. Steve saw you two coming.” Goddess said, laughing.

“.......You mean we DON’T have to scoop this fucker up off the floor? WOO-HOO!” Redbob exclaimed, throwing his custodial hat over the rail into the sea.

Trav dunked the mop into the bucket, then doused Steve with about a half gallon or murky mop water. Steve woke up babbling random obscenities, and slowly scrambled to his feet. Trav dropped the mop, threw his hat overboard like bob had, and proceeded to fix himself a shot.

Redbob had removed his janitorial coveralls and was running around the deck in his underwear, spinning the coveralls over his head shouting “WOO-HOO! WOO-HOO! WOO-HOO!” Then he suddenly stopped. “Does this ship have AC jacks so I can plug in my x-box? I brought it and 50 of my best games.”

“Oh, Bob.” Everyone sighed, laughing.

“No, seriously. I really want to know!” Redbob said.

Everyone just laughed harder.

Ready, Sass, and mom were sunning on the deck, so they didn’t even know anything was happening until Bob’s victory lap.

“Lovely.” Trav said, snagging a bottle of Bicardi from behind the bar and wandered off around the corner and was gone. Occasionally they could hear him gripe about random shit as he kept on his journey.

“.....Why do I smell like fish?” Steve asked, now only semi-coherent. “Oh that’s right. Fusty’s mom. Huh-huh.” Steve said, laughing to himself. Then he turned to see that everybody was gone and it was only him sitting at the bar. “.....Well, it was funny. Fuck you.” He babbled to himself.

Fusty, Goddess, and Kimber had wandered out to where Ready and her cohorts were sunning. Redbob was still running around like a jack ass.

“..............WHAT THE FUCK!” PD shouted from toward the front of the ship. Everybody ran to see what the matter was, but no one was prepared for what they’d find. PD was staring into the head, body frozen in shock. Then as everyone arrived to see what the matter was, PD turned around, blocking the toilet. “You don’t want to see this.” PD assured them. A stream on blood slowly began to stream between PD’s shoes. “Uhhh.... don’t worry. Someone just spilled a bunch of nasty shit all over the bathroom. Go on back to the bar, please.” PD said to the guests. He grabbed Fusty by the arm for a minute until everone had left. “Do you have a strong stomach? Can you help me clean this shit up?” PD slowly stepped out of the way, revealing a deceased Trav, flooded with blood, face down on the floor. There was broken glass everywhere and the top half of a rum bottle, the jagged broken edges dripping with blood. Presumably the same bottle he had wandered off with. On the wall, “FEAR ME” was written in blood.

Fusty dropped to his knees and threw up.


(section 4)

Steve sat quietly at the bar. He hasn’t moved since he scopped his own mop-soaked ass off the deck. He turned suddenly, convinced he had seen something behind him, but nothing seemed unusual. He sat there for a few minutes, then he swore he saw something again. This time he stared at the area behind the bar without looking away, and low and behold, he saw a pair of hands reach up and swipe a bottle from the bar.

“A-HA!!” Steve shouted, getting up and walking, slowly but surely, behind the bar. He had caught Dee and Dan red handed swiping liquor. “How the fuck did you two even get on this motherfucker?!” Steve bitched, referring to how they were allowed to board.

Dee and Dan just sat there, admitting nothing. Steve grabbed them by the ears, escourting them to the group.

“Caught these two juvies swiping liquor.” Steve announced. “So, how did you even get on board, Sytriss?” Steve interrogated.

They sat there quietly for a few moments then Dee said “Dan checked us in as Mr. and Mrs. .....Whateverthefuck.”

Redbob came streaking through saying “Make them walk the plank!”

“We don’t have a plank, retard.” Steve retorted.

Shortly there after, PD appeared with a solemn look on his face. “I have something to tell you all. .......We’re gonna be without Trav’s services for the duration of this trip.”

“Why? He in his room pouting about the whole janitor thing? Look, Redbob doesn’t care.” Steve said.

“Um..... how do I say this.... Trav is dead. I don’t know whether it was a suicide or what, but its not like we have a murderer on board or anything, right?” PD asked. “......RIGHT?”

“Well, how did he die?” Ready asked, Sass and Mom wondering the same.

“He uhh.... I think I’d rather not get into the details.” PD said.

Fusty appeared in the background, reaching over the bar, and grabbing that bottle of Tequila. He looked like he’d been rode hard and put away wet. But not in that good way. He poured himself a double shot as everybody slowly gathered ‘round. “You know, ....When I was young my grandpa used to tell me ‘A rat up the asshole is better than two in the soup’. I’d rather have 3 rats in my ass than have to clean that shit up. I don’t know how you stayed strong, PD.” Fusty said.

“Wasn’t easy, my good man.” PD assured Fusty. PD slowly looked around, looking at the people’s faces. He could already see suspicions forming in people’s minds. “Well, I’m gonna go roll me a blunt. If anybody wants to join me, feel free.” He then disappeared around the side.

Wham, Sil, and Biffy came wandering in, a few minutes apart each, wiping the sleep out of their eyes.

“What the fuck? I didn’t even know you assholes were here.” Steve said, still quite buzzed.

“It was such a long fucking drive to get to the dock from upstate NY, I crashed out after getting on board.” Wham said.

“Same here, minus the NY part.” Biffy said.

“Haven’t you fuckers ever heard of taking a plane?” Steve said, as full of tact as ever.

“I did fly in. PD just didn’t have any dialogue for me yet. So, I was ‘asleep’.” Sil said. “And I tell you, right before I came out of my room, I heard some strange choking sounds coming out of the room next to mine. Somebody ought to check on that.”

Steve looked at Fusty. “Oh no. I went LAST time when I had to help with Trav. You go.” Fusty said.

“Help with Trav? What happened to Trav?” Sil asked.

Steve wandered off around the side heading toward the cabins, leaving them to explain about Trav. Steve came to the door of the cabin next to Sil’s room and knocked on the door. No response. He couldn’t hear any sounds emanating from within. Steve knocked again. “Hey fuckers! Everybody alright in there?” Steve shouted through the door. Still no response, so Steve drew back and was about to kick the door in when he hesitated. He then tried the knob. It wasn’t looked. Steve turned the knob and slowly opened the door only to find........


Last edited by In Memory of PD on Mon Nov 16, 2009 11:58 pm; edited 1 time in total
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In Memory of PD


Posts : 51
Join date : 2008-11-14

PostSubject: Re: Death At Sea: The Whole Story   Mon Nov 16, 2009 11:51 pm

(section 5)

....Well, we’ll get back to Steve in a few moments. Quite suddenly, a rift appeared in the sky, the blue turning blood red. Everyone shrieked in absolute terror as a chubby hand appeared in the sky. It descended toward the ship, the chubby hand followed by a chubby arm, all the way down to the boat. The cas-, I mean the crew all thought they were being smited by the god of story land. The hand, closed fisted, settled on to the deck of the boat and slowly began to open. Narrator, JBCoops, Frats, and Oustider fearfully ascended from the hand. Then the hand, the rift, and the sky of blood were simply gone. They scratched their heads, or whatever they were in to, and asked how the hell they had gotten there.


Steve slowly shoved the door open and saw something he could’ve lived his whole life without the desire to see. Redbob. Xbox on the “dashboard” (like a sub-menu). Blank stare in his eyes. Legs resting on the headboard. His own cock buried in his throat. Bob had broken his own neck, it appeared, but he made it. He really made it. (Clerks reference, for anyone not in the know). His balls rested on his dead chin.

Steve threw a blanket over him and went to get PD. Upon returning to Redbob’s room, Steve withdrew the sheet from Bob’s body and they drug him to the lower level of the ship. They threw him into the walk-in freezer where Pat and Fusty had thrown Trav. They heard his body thump onto the ground, then they closed the freezer door. This ship is so ghetto, the freezer door had a regular door knob on it. “Fucking cheap asses. They should’ve let me build it. No one can build shitty things like me. But NOOOO.” Steve bitched. PD simply shrugged and went on.

“This is the second fucking death thus far. I’m not looking forward to telling everybody we’ve had two corpses in one fuckin’ day, man.” Pat said to Steve as they walked up the stairs toward the upper levels.

“So, don’t tell them.” Steve said.

“Yeah. Like they’re not gonna notice nature boy isn’t fucking here running around in his damn underwear.”

“Well I don’t fucking know. It’s your story. You figure it out.” Steve said.

“Story?! WTF are you talking about?” Pat said to Steve.

“Yeah.” Steve said, rolling his eyes and walked on.

They returned to the bar where PD grabbed a bottle of Crown and poured about 2 shots worth into a glass. Then he pulled out a cold can of coke and threw a splash into it. Just enough to discolor it. “....Some day tou too will know my pain.... and smile its black tooth grin.” PatDaddy said, and swilled back the drink. He then grabbed the Crown and the can of coke and casually dismissed himself back to his chamber.

“......Wait.... Should PatDaddy be drinking and driving? Or boating, or whatever? Sass asked.

“He’s not the most rational when he’s sober. I’m glad we’re out in the middle of nowhere with no traffic.” Wham said. “Something seems odd about Trav’s death. I don’t see anybody just accidentally dying out here. It just doesn’t make sense. But the only one of us to show any real hostility toward him was PD. But then, why the cherade? Why not just say ‘I killed his non-song listening ass?’ Why all the shit?”

Everyone just kind of stared at Wham for having said that. “What? Like you weren’t thinking it.” He said, fixing himself a drink.

“Well just everybody help them-fucking-selves to the bar!” Steve said sarcastically.

“Will do!” Wham said.

“I remember when I was young, grandpa used to take us on nature walks. He would take us deep into the woods and bury us up to our necks. Then he would tie peanuts in our hair and hide. When squirrels would come to get the peanuts he would run out of the bushs and smash them with a rubber hammer while screaming "This is for Joan Crawford and all the seals!!" ........If he was in a good mood he would dig us up before leaving.” Fusty said, doing his best to lighten the mood.

Everybody just kind of stared at him not really knowing how one should comment on that. It was getting rather late by this point. Steve suggested that they all turn in for the night. “LOCK.. your FUCKING DOORS.” Steve said, and retired to his little Gilligan bunk in the captain’s chamber. It even said ‘little buddy’ over it, which made Steve all bubbly inside........


(section 6)

Somewhere in the middle of the ocean. Middle of the night.*

*snoring, mumbling* ”.......doctor of journalism.... for fuck’s sake...... yes..... for fuck’s sake.” A small two man life boat slowly drifted through the ocean. It was so dark, you couldn’t see your hand in front of your face. The raft suddenly bumped into something, jarring awake a very intense individual.

[/I]“....HOLY FUCK CAKES! WHERE THE GODDAMN HELL AM I??[/I] Raul timidly reached his hand forward, over the edge of the boat, touched something metal and jerked his hand back. He sat there puzzled for a brief moment before he began whacking the shit out of it with his fly swatter. “BACK TO THE DEPTHS OF HELL! BACK, YOU FOUL METALLIC BEAST!!” Raul shouted, flailing wildly at the cold metal wall.

“.....Hey! Pipe down, down there!” Steve shouted toward the water. “People are trying to sleep up here ya fuck!”

”YOU LISTEN HERE, YOU DISGRACEFUL PIG-FUCKER!! ......I’m a doctor of journalism, for fuck’s sake...... I SHOULD BE TREATED WITH RESPECT!” Raul jumped to his feet, pointing his finger up in the air toward the voice. The raft, of course wouldn’t allow a jump-to-your-feet type mabeuver, so naturally he fell back onto his ass with a loud plop and splashing noise.

“Yeah yeah, I fucked your mother. What the fuck are you doing down there, bobbing for cockfish?” Steve yelled.

”....JUST VOICE ME TOWARD THE GODDAMN LADDER! .....for fuck’s sake.” Raul snapped at the voice. ”....OW! ......Pigeon fucker!” Raul bitched, having just been hit in the head with a rope ladder as it finished unravelling.

“Oh yeah...... sorry ‘bout that.” Steve said.

Raul scrambled up the roap ladder and onto the deck where he was now face to face with a half pissed half annoyed Steve. ”....And a good evening to you, too, kind sir!” Raul snapped. ”.......Got a light?”

PatDaddy then appeared in a red silk robe that said Hef Jr. in cursive across the “heart” area. “You know, I’m laying in bed sound asleep, and there I was........” PD stared at Raul. “Holy fuck! ....There I am!” PD exclaimed.

“Ain’t you about bonged out for the day PD?” Steve asked the fat man, scratching his head.

Raul locked eyes with PatDaddy for a miute, then looked down at his own frail drug addled body. ”....How the fuck is he me? ..... Wait, ....did I say that out loud? .....Did they HEAR ME???”

“Dude. You’re standing right there. Yes. We heard you. Now who the fuck are you?” Steve asked.


“Yeah yeah, doctor of journalism. I got it.” Steve said. “You got a name?” He asked.

”Duke. Uhhhhh, Raul Duke.” He said. “My attourneyyyyy........ actually he wanted to do a portrait of Bea Arthur on my asscrack with a corkscrew. I had to cut the bastard loose. That’s just bad journalism.” Raul stated. ”.....Did I hear something about a bong? My grass is saturated with sea water.” Raul asked.

PD continued studying Raul quietly, with a puzzled look on his face. Then he seemed to realize Raul’s question. “Yeah. Right this way.” PatDaddy said, motioning him toward the green light lounge (captains chamber).

“Well, I can see I’m not gonna get any sleep tonight. Not with that itchy fucktard doing drugs around my bunk. Or Raul either.” Steve groaned. Steve stood there with his hands on his hips, casually scoping out the deck. It was then that he saw a shadow turn the corner on the other side of the bar. Steve decided to trail the thing.

Steve turned the corner he had seen the shadow go around and saw the figure standing at the staircase that descends down into the belly. Steve snuck up on “it”, then tackled the shape.

“Owwww! WTF?!” Vegas said.

“WTF are you doing out here?” Steve asked a bewildered Vegas.

“Looking suspicious, I guess.” Vegas said, shrugging. “How’s tricks?” He asked. “......Wait a minute, ....Why are YOU up and roaming?”

“Eh, some wacko was off the starboard, or whatever the fuck, ranting random obscenities, while attacking the boat with a flyswatter. He washed up in a life boat.”

“Hmm. Sounds like a guy I knew once.” Vegas said. “Anyway, I’m going to go back to lurking. I got a blackjack table set up at the back. Pass the word.”

“Alright man. Everybody’s in bed though, but we’ll need something to do tomorrow I’m sure. We can’t very well play shuffleboard. That’s the closest thing to 8-Ball on board, so Ready’s got it cornered.” Steve said. “....Unless you want to lose.”

“Right. Well, talk tou you later, man.” Vegas said.

“Yep. Later.” Steve said, and went back to his buddy bunk.


(section 7)

Daybreak came too early for PD. He lay there strained from the bright sunlight in his eyes. He had passed out at the navigation station, where he charters his own flights into the stratosphere..... or maybe just gets really wasted then laughs like a schoolgirl while he spins the wheel on the boat. “Weeee!” he would exclaim with glee.......

“STEVE! Wake the fuck up, man. You’re having the gayest dream.” PD yelled at Steve.

“We--” Steve started.

“Hey! Don’t ask, don’t tell, right? I don’t need to know. Just knock it off.” PD bitched. “Now I’m gonna go interact with the fuckers on this boat..... DON’T touch the wheel! ONLY I MAY TOUCH THE WHEEL!” PD yelled, slamming the door.

“....Geez. What crawled up his butt! ....I didn’t want to touch his stupid wheel anyway.” Steve pouted. He got up from his bunk and walked around, stretching. Bitching. “Fuckin’ tell me I can’t touch the wheel..... HEY! I’M TOUCHING THE WHEEL! Whatchya goin’ do now, FatDaddy!”

“Knock it off.” Came PD’s voice over the intercom.

“WTF!” Steve jumped.

PD walked out to pretty much everybody surrounding Vegas’s black jack table. Ready and Sass had been losing all morning, and you could tell they were ready to greet him with the business end of a shuffle board paddle. Fusty was cleaning Vegas out. ....He wasn’t doing too bad in the game either :wink1: .

“That’s 22. You bust, Coops.” Vegas said to JB.

JB went gonzo at this point.”You’re cheating! I fucking knew it!” He shouted, throwing his cards down. He stomped away from the table.

“Next,” Vegas said calmly as PD sat in.

“Yeah maybe a hand or two. I’ll be using house credit.” PD said, with a grin.

Vegas dealth out the cards.

“Black Jack!” PD declared after seeing both of his cards. “Good man! Knows when to grease the house.” PD said, nodding to Vegas.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Vegas said.

“Right. Like that ace of spades wasn’t on the bottom of the deck until I sat in. Hey, whatever you gotta do man.” PD said, getting up from the table. “I could do this to y’all all day, but fuck it.” PD said. He gathered that everybody but Fusty and himself had been losing quite a bit. The ladies were all becoming quite venomous.

Finally, Kimber lost it and leaped over the table and started slamming Vegas’s head onto the deck shouting over and over again “YOU’RE A DIRTY FUCKING CHEAT” pounding his head on each syllable.

Sil, Sass, and Goddess rushed to pull Kimber off of him, but she was leaving her marks. Eventually they pried her off of the flabbergasted Vegas. Vegas then groaned “I... didn’t cheat.”

Everyones attention then became diverted as Rocket came around the corner pushing Gene in a wheel chair. “Hey, look who I found!” Rocket announced as she wheeled him into the sun.

“I told you I can walk, damn it!” Gene told her.

“Not on my watch. You’re going to just sit there and relax.” Rocket told him.

“How did you two meet up?” Ready asked Rocket.

“Well, I awoke from a trance-like.... dialogueless state, and came out of what I guess is my room, and there he was.”

“....I need the chair.” Gene admitted. “I don’t like it, but I’m still in pain. But it is really good just to be here with all of you like this.” Gene said, smiling.

“Well, we’re all damn glad to see you, bro!” PD said to him.

“Yeah!” everybody said, gathering around.

They all talked and coversed and had a good ol’ time, then Rocket broke the momentum by asking about Redbob’s whereabouts. She was starting to feel naked without Bob conservatively bashing conservatives all the time. ....That, and taking his clothes off.

PD looked stunned for a second, then replied “I’m sure he’s around.” PD sought a sense of belief for the words coming out of his mouth. “....He prolly stuck his dick in something he shouldn’t have.” He added, shrugging. “If it makes y’all feel better, I’ll look for him.” He said, and casually excused himself back to the 24/7 rave in the captains chamber.

PatDaddy sat there, eyes glazed over, trying to focus through this hazey atmosphere all about him. “I fear.....” He began, “...that the jig may well be up.”

Meanwhile back on the deck....

“So, anybody up for another hand?” Vegas asked, still pampering his wounds.

“Not for me.” Kimber said, obviously still irritated” and then left them.

Everybody decided to just go their own ways for the day.

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In Memory of PD


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PostSubject: Re: Death At Sea: The Whole Story   Mon Nov 16, 2009 11:52 pm

(section 8 )

That night.....

Steam began to rise as the small, seemingly delicate hand of Kimber turn the faucet to her shower. Removing her towell, she entered the fog and let the water run over her body washing away the fatigue and stress, washing it all down the drain. Sensously, she lathered herself, moaning slightly to herself, and slowly moaned the word....... Frats.

Frats lay asleep with a grin on his face unriled by a child’s first experience at Disney Land. He mumbled to himself ”Ohhhhh yeah, Kimmy. You know how Fratsy likes it.....”

Suddenly his door burst open and a black shadow buried a Rambo sized knife deep into Frat’s stomach. The killer then shoved the handle, blade still inside Frats, forward like it was shifting to 3rd, then suddenly twisted the blade before ripping it out. He held a rag over Frat’s mouth to stifle the scream. The killer quickly duct taped the rag to Frat’s face and then bound his hands and legs so that he couldn’t move. Frat’s was not fortunate enough to have passed on yet.

The killer then buried its gloved hand deep into Frat’s open would. Frat’s screamed and turned instantly purple from the strain in his face. The gag performed it’s job well, though. All one could hear was a slight whimper as Frat’s was no doubt feeling the most excrutiating pain he never could’ve imagined in his life. The killer stirred its hand into the open wound, frabbing a handful of the blood, as much as a gloved hand could hold. The killer made a fist with the gloved hand. Frat’s winced again in extreme pain and the hand was removed from his stomach.

The killer then began to write. Smearing the blood of Frats onto the wall, the killer wrote “HIDE THIS ONE” onto the wall of Frats’ cabin. With the rambo knife, the killer proceeded to remove all of Frats’ fingers as souvenirs. At this point, Frats was still alive. Satisfied now, the killer turned to leaved, but Frats whimpered again, and the killer turned around with near cyclone force, sending the sharp edge of the knife through Frats throat, finishing the job. Frats now lay at peace, dead eyes piercing into the night....


Steve was making his rounds on the boat, just checking shit out. He walked around toward the casino area only to find Vegas lying on the deck. Upon closer examination, Steve saw that Vegas throat had been slit. There was a poker chip on each eye. Steve jumped backwards, inadvertantly slamming into someone. Steve turned around and saw a human like black shape. A gleam from a bloody knife caught Steve’s eye as he turned to run. “FUCK THIS!” Steve shouted, sprinting down the deck, with the killer close behind. Steve’s heart raced as he heard the thumping of the killer’s shoes on the wooden deck as they sounded like they were drawing closer. Steve felt a slight tug on his shirt as the killer’s knife slashed through the back of it as it flapped like a flag in the wind. Steve kept runing until he reached the captain’s chamber, bursting through the door and slamming it shut behind him. He leaned on the door with all his weight, panting like he stole something.

PatDaddy and Raul were sitting at the Nav table staring at Steve through confused, narrowed eyes. “Wasup?” PatDaddy asked the frantic Steve.


“Uhh, you wanna try that again like slowly??” PD asked

“Vegas is dead. He had poker chips on his eyes. His throat was slit. I jumped back, slammed into IT, then hauled ass here.” Steve said as calmly as he possibly could.

”...AND YOU FUCKING LED HIM HERE?! GOOD GOD, MAN, WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?” Raul yelled, now hiding in the corner.

PatDaddy got up and walked over to the door, slowly looking out the window on it. PD didn’t see anything, so he grabbed the fireman’s axe from the wall and stood beside the door, giving Steve the nod to slowly open it. Steve slowly opened the door, PatDaddy ready to swing, but there was no one there. Slowly PatDaddy looked out the door and down the deck. He couldn’t see anything but the ship itself.

“Alright, let’s go have a look see.” PatDaddy said. “....Raul, you just stay here and lock the door. Don’t open it until we come back.”

Raul sat trembling in the corner and said nothing. Steve looked around for a second. “Fuck this!” Steve said, grabbing a chainsaw from the corner. “Walk softly and carry a goddamn tank!” Steve said, following PD out the door.

Quietly, they strolled the deck along the passenger cabins when a slight breeze came in from the water, causing Frat’s door to squeek as it slowly swung open. They turned ready to start whackin’ but didn’t see anybody moving. They eased toward the open doorway. PD reached his hand just inside the door looking for the light switch. He fumbled around the wall for a few moments then he found it. He flipped the switch and the lights came on revealing a gruesome crime scene worthy of Manson’s children. The formerly white sheets on Frat’s bed were saturated dark red, the walls dripped with blood from the writing, This was truly a grotesque scene of malice.

For the time being, all PD could think to do was cover him with a sheet, for they were still on the hunt and he still hadn’t seen Vegas yet.


(section 9)

Steve now led PD to see the body of Vegas. They found the body right where Steve had left it. “See, poker chips on his eyes. What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asked.

PD anylized the corpse. “Back in the day, they used to place coins over the eyes of the dead. It was to pay the boatman to carry them across the river styx.”

“yeah..... but these are poker chips.” Steve said.

“Well, I’d say its a message that whoever killed him is a disgruntled customer. Somebody who lost their ass at the table. The chips are their way of saying something to the effect of ‘you wanted them, you got’em. Buy your way into hell with these.’ .....or some shit.” PD said, musing to himself.

“That kinda makes sense I guess.” Steve said, shrugging. “....Wait, no it don’t. How the HELL do you get from the river Styx to a goddamn black jack game?” Steve asked.

“Well, the insane mind works in mysterious ways, Steve. They link one thing to another in ways that “normal” people can’t comprehend.” PD replied.

“....Since when did you become Don Herbert?” Steve asked sarcastically.

“....Who?” PatDaddy asked.

“Mr. Wizard, you fucking pot head. Why don’t you work a little educational programming in with your ‘Friday The 13th: Jason Does Cory’s Mom’ shit.” Steve retorted.

“You know, it’s not too late for you to join Vegas, ya wiseass.” PD said.

“I hope you know, I pack a chainsaw! I’ll skin yer ass raw!” Steve bitched at PatDaddy.

“OK, Fred. Rolling Eyes. And what is your deal with men’s asses? ...Forget it. I don’t wanna know.” PD said, preparing to scoop Vegas up off the floor.

They carried Vegas back to Frats’s room where they threw him on top of Frats. They say the human body can maintain an erection for several hours after death. They probably should’ve been a little more careful. Frats, even though dead, accidentally put one of Vegas’s eyes out. So now there was even more blood.

They un-tucked Frats’s bedding and wrapped them both up in it and drug them down to the freezer. Once they were down there, Steve flipped the light switch for the inside of the freezer. Through the little window on the door, they saw a bright flash followed by darkness. “Shit. The light burned out.” Steve said.

“I really don’t give a fuck. Toss these fuckers inside and let’s get back up stairs.” PD bitched, obviously tired of hauling the dead.

PD opened the door, and they picked up the bedding on each end and rocked it back and forth building the momentum. They did the typical 3 count and sent them rolling into the freezer. They then shut the freezer and went upstairs.

“Shouldn’t we just say fuck it and turn the boat around and go home?” Steve asked.

“Fuck that!”PatDaddy snapped. “If I solve ten murders, I get a Scooby-Doo decoder pen. Get a clue!”

“Geez. Wouldn’t want you to miss out on that, chief. The bridge is yours oh captain my captain.” Steve said sarcastically.

They got back to the captain’s chamber and knocked on the door. “Raul, its us man. Open the door.” PD called into the wood.

”....Don’t come near me, you fucking swine! I’m a doctor of journalism, goddamn it! I’ll have no part of this tom foolery.” Raul called back.

“Hey, motherfucker, Its PatDaddy. Open the fucking door!” PD yelled.

”....PatDaddy??” Raul asked.

“Yes. Pat motherfuckin’ Daddy. Now open up.” PatDaddy retorted.

”.....PatDaddy’s not here!” Raul shouted.

“No, motherfucker, I’M PatDaddy. P - A - T - MOTHERFUCKIN’ - D.” PD yelled, getting quite pissed now.

”.....Who??” Raul asked.

“PAT...... DADDY. NOW OPEN UP, FUCKO!” PD replied.

”...PatDaddy??” Raul asked again.

“YES, GODDAMN IT, YES!” PD yelled.

A long pause followed. ”....PatDaddy’s not here..... for fuck’s sake.” Raul replied.

“......I give up.” PD said.

Eventually Raul broke the code on what they were saying and let them in.


(section 10)

Once inside, PD loaded up a bong load, because well.... it’s what he does best. Even Steve sat in on this one. They smoked and they smoked, then they smoked some more. Almost as if they were afraid that if they stopped, that they’d have to further deal with this situation. Their ignorant bliss didn’t seem to last that long before the door burst open with Sass and Ready coming through it with heaping slabs of sunlight bleeding in from behind. Painful were the silhouettes of these otherwise lovely ladies as they stood all out of breath in the doorway.


“PAT. STEVE.... CRAZY DRUGGIE GUY, [gasp gasp] DAN AND DEE ARE DEAD!” Sass exclaimed.

“....Well good morning to you too. Come on in!” Pat said, being the usual smart ass he is this time of morning.

“We don’t have time for that!” Ready said, clearly excited about the whole ordeal. This is what, body numbers 4 and 5 for them. Becoming quite common place.

“If they’re dead, don’t we technically have all the time in the world? They’re not going anywhere are they?” PatDaddy poked at them.

Ready and Sass were clearly appalled. PatDaddy, having had his fun, put the bong up and got up from the table.

“Alright Steve. Get your game face on. Let’s go!” PD said, motioning for the ladies to show them Dee and Dan.

Sass and Ready showed them out the door and down the deck to Dee and Dan’s room where the door was slightly ajar. Upon entering the room, they saw nothing out of place. The bed was made, there were no signs of a struggle, and most of all there were no bodies.


“....I’m not doubting you, ladies. But whatever it was you think you saw isn’t here!” PD said. “Now let’s move along back down to the deck.”

With stunned and confused looks, Ready and Sass slowly left the room with PD and Steve right behind them. Steve slowly doubled back and decided to poke a little deeper around the room. He sae one little edge of the sheet untuckked from the bed, which doesn’t necessarily mean anything, but he decided to pull on it anyway. He pulled the sheet away and there he saw a strip of plastic covering the mattress. Upon lifting up the plastic, Steve saw massive blood stains on the mattress which confirmed his suspicions. Dee and Dan had been killed afterall and the killer did a quick clean up/cover up. Steve replaced the plastic and the sheet. He then locked the door and went to find PD.

Upon reaching the deck, he found everybody gathered at the bar. Fusty was acting as barkeep as the emptiness of his Tequila glass was too much of a burden in these trying times.

“You ready for a refill, Hambone?” Fusty asked Whammon, extending the bottle toward him.

“Absolutely. What else are we going to do stranded out at sea with a murderous fiend on board the ship knocking us off like flies, ...call the coast guard??” Whammon asked.

Everyone laughed like that was just the funniest thing they’d ever heard.

“Well, my grampa always used to say severed fingers make great conversation starters.” Fusty interjected, smiling.


After a moment, everyone went back to socializing, not knowing exactly how they should react. They were all starting to wonder about this Grampa of Fusty’s.

There was a loud pop and smoke filled the air making it difficult to see. This black image appeared behind Fusty, quickly enwrapping his throat with a rusty strip of wire coard. Fusty’s fingers bleed as the wire fiendishly attempted to saw through his fingers, desperately searching for the soft flesh of the throat. Fusty fought it all he could and then slowly twitched down to the deck, flood painting the deck in shades of death.

All of the passengers freaked and ran instinctively toward the rail where they began to claw and fight at each other in a desperate attempt to get away from the killer.

The killer then appeared from begind the bar, wielding a machete in each hand, never breaking eye contact from beneath a dark mask. He slowly stepped toward the people, who were all frozen in fear, pinning each other against the guard rail. All at once, the guests bulldozed past the killer, the ones who were fortunate that is. The killer started flailing these mega-knives through the air slicing all who came close enough. Coops fell to the deck, clutching his abdomen as a river of crimson spread forth before him.

Goddess and Narrator fell next, lacerations covering their arms and hands where they desperately tried to deflect the attack, but their struggles ended in mutual failure.

The killer turned suddenly, finding Sass dead in his sites. Sass froze like a deer in the head lights. The killer slowly made his way toward here, blood dripping from the blades of his god complex. Sass was now pinned against the rail, the killer slowly drawing in, crossing the blades in an X pattern, blades inward. The killer acted as theough he (he, she, it, whatever!!) was savoring this moment. Tasting the fear as it permeated the air........

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In Memory of PD


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PostSubject: Re: Death At Sea: The Whole Story   Mon Nov 16, 2009 11:53 pm

(section 11)

God sat relaxing in his Lay-Z Boy recliner eating some popcorn while watching the news. He could hear countless screams erupting from within his aquarium he calls Earth. To which he’d slightly chuckle, but even then only during commercials. He was really interested in this “faulty wardrobe” fiasco that occurred when Jessica Simpson’s titty sudden;y flew out of her dress at the grammys. There’s was no Justin Timberlake to rip the dress, it simply burst open.

“...That’s MY story, and I’m stickin’ to it!” God said, chuckling to himself. ....Commercials again. The sound of the screaming whing voices crowded their way back into God’s head. Becoming irritated, he sighed. “Oh very well. I’ll fuckin’ see what’s goin’ on. Geez. You give them a nice boat to cruise around on and some whacky Grampa gems, you’d think they’d be happy, but NOOOO!. They want me to stop the killer too. WTF. Why do I always gotta do this shit? Let’s see here... what channel did I program for this.... Oh yeah. GodTv.”

God changed the channel over to the James gang Cruise on his reality channel. “Let’s see. What did I miss. Ohh, you’ve been quite busy, huh? Gotta love those little puppets.” God mused to himself. He rewound his heavenly Tivo to catch up. He saw Dan & Dee, then he saw Fusty go down, then Coops, Narrator and Goddess. “My my my. My chaos anomaly is working over time.” God said to himself. They he saw the killer turn on Sass....

Sass stood, pinned against the rail, constantly looking overboard at the frenzy of sharks that were swimming around in the hopes they’d be thrown a tender morsel. A single solitary tear escaped her ever reddening eyes and fell to the deck where it shattered into a million micro-droplets of salt water.

The killer stepped ever so slowly forward, raising both machetes. One slowly came to Sass’s throat where the killer just let it rest there, slightly pinching her skin letting her know just how sharp its blade was. Blood dripped from the machete down her neck. The other machete, he had cocked back ready to slam into her skull.

Then out of nowere the killer was struck in the head by a coconut at top speed. The killer clutched his head and fell straight down to the deck floor, revealing a bewildered but focussed Ready. “Run, Sass!” Ready shouted as they sprinted for the Capt.’s chamber. Sass turned to look at the killer again before entering the cabin. Predictably the killer was gone.

There they sat, the survivors of the James Gang, huddled in fear. Biffy, Raul, HTown, PatDaddy, Whammon, Sass, Ready, Outsider, Sillysil, Kimber, The Spleen, and Rocket. Too many people, really, to be huddled up in this small cabin. Yet there they sat. Nowhere to go.

“This is gay.” Oustider groaned.

“Man, yer gay!” Htown griped back.

“If they looked up ‘gay’ in the dictonary, Steve would be there.... sucking some old man cock.” Outsider retorted

“Yeah, yer mom’s cock!” Steve...

“Alright, enough of this crap!” Ready announced, stepping to the “front” of the room. “Ok, first thing’s first. We have to split up.” Ready said.

“...Why always some white girl gotta say split up.” Outsider said. “My peeps are disappointed.”


“I got peeps! .....They just live in Canada.” Outsider rebutted.

“PEOPLE!” Ready exclaimed.

”...I thought I was the captain?” PD whispered to Steve.

“Shh! She’s on a roll!” Steve said.

“I think splitting up is the most obviously dumb thing we can do.” Biffy said.

“Obviously the smart thing to do would be to comb the ship. This fucker presumably is a human being which means it has a mortal threshold for pain. Logically, we should hunt this fucker down and cut off his nuts and sell them as aBrazillian key chain, but since when is ‘logic’ an structural quality we look for in planning our options?” Whammon said.

“.........That’s the dumbest fuckin’ thing I ever heard.” Steve said.

“You’re dumb!” Outsider yelled.

“Don’t make Daddy take you across his knee.” Steve threw back.

“Whoa, whoa! Leave me outta this!” PD said.

“People people people!” The Spleen said.” Will you please sit down and listen to what Ready’s trying to say?”

“What do you know about it, banner boy?!” Steve bitched.

“Oh, I know more than you’d like these people to know, Mr. 16cm Member.” The Spleen retorted.

“Fair enough.” Steve said. “Ready, you were saying?”

“Well, I was saying, I think we should split up. Check the whole ship. Arm yourselves with whatever you think you’d be most effective with. And remember. Since this is just one guy, he presumably has nuts. Kick them....”

“Always with the nuts! WTF!” PD griped.

“....yes. Kick them. Bite him, beat him, cut something off, whatever you can do. It’s go time.” Ready said.


(section 12)

“...OK, Htown, you PatDaddy and Outsider, you check down in the belly. Go. Wham, you, Biffy and Raul check the cabins going that way” Ready said, pointing one direction. “Go. Kimber, you, Rocket and SrslySil check the cabins this way...” Ready said pointing in the opposite direction. “I guess that leaves Sass and Mr. Spleen in my group.” She said, smiling. “Let’s roll!”

(Team Steve)

“Alright. I guess let’s use the side stairs.” Steve said.

“Wait, wait. WTF. Who said you were in charge?” Outsider bitched.

“The evolution of society as we know it.” Steve replied. .....”That, and I did your mom.”

“Oh yeah? She get freaky on you?” Outsider asked. “Moms can drop it like it’s hot.”

“Blow me, fag.” Steve said.

“Yo, O.G. don’t play dat.” Outsider said.

“O.G.? WTF? You got street cred now? What’s the O.G. for? Outside Gangsta? When your outside, you’re straight G, when you go home you suck your mom’s dick?”

“Yeah, like I’m going to answer that. I’m the smartest man alive.” Outsider said. “My peeps told me so.”

“Yeah yeah. Peeps. " Steve replied. “Yo, P, whay ain’t you sayin’ anything?”

“I’m just listening to you too lame fuck-wads talk about you’re moms dicks.” PD replied. “....And MY peeps aren’t impressed.”

“You’re fat.” Outsider said. “...And that’s your mom’s dick. Fat ass.”

“Yeah suck it, Grammar Nazi.” PatDaddy retorted.

“Suck what? Your shriveled fat encased pee-hole?” Outsider responded.

“Yeah, for starters. You swallow? My ass could use a good.....” Pd began

“Get a room, you too.” Steve said, rolling his eyes.

“....Jealous much?” PD asked.

“Of him? Yeah right. He gives lousy head anyway. Have at it.”

“Yeah, your mom” Outsider said.

Team Steve managed a little searching along with their bickering, but weren’t coming up with much. However their bickering would tip a deaf man off to their presence. PD felt like he had eyes on him, but wrote it off as Outsider cravin’ the cock. They searched in the canned good room. Nada. They checked the engine room. Nada. They checked everywhere downstairs then came to the freezer where all the bodies were. Having checked everywhere else, they opened the door and peered inside. Darkness. Steve flipped the switch but nothing happened.

“Oh yeah. I never replaced that bulb. Oh well.” Steve shrugged, walking in. “We’ll use the light from outside.”

PatDaddy and Outsider followed him in, wishing they had brought flashlights. They didn’t exactly have the time to form a sound plan anyway. Suddenly the door swung shut, trapping them.

“Shit. It’s gonna get cold. PD said......

(Team Wham)

“....So naturally I told the guy to go fuck himself. The Hambone don’t roll like that.” Wham said to Biffy.

“Uh-huh. Yeah. Very interesting. ” Biffy said, faining interest.

”...Hey there, uh Biffy, that right?! I’m a doctor of journalism you know..... care to check my diction?” Raul asked.

“Geez. Of all the teams.... ” Biffy mumbled to herself. “Can we just stick to the plan?” Biffy asked the two of them.

They went from one cabin to the next, not finding anything particularly out of the ordinary. Then they found themselves standing in Dan and Dee’s cabin. They were poking around looking for anything. Raul opened the nightstand drawer and immediately became still. He looked to see if they were watching him. They were looking at the pictures that Dee had plastered all over the mirror. Raul suddenly slipped his hand in and out of the drawer withblur like speed, then placing his hand into his pocket.

”..won’t be needing this!” Raul mumbled, walking away from the nightstand.

“You finding anything over there Duke?” What asked the good doctor.

“What?!” Me? No, nothing..... Nothing at all.... Well some things.... er...., but nothing... of interest here. Yeah.”[/i] Raul regurgitated. ”...I’m... going to check the bathroom.”

“...So anyway, I was telling you about the time I almost....” Wham was saying.

Raul shut and locked the bathroom door behind him. He immediately sat on the toilet and removed a back of pot that was so green it nearly glowed in the dark. Damn kids.... They don’t even know what they have.” Raul bitched. He pulled a soda can from the trash and crushed it into a typical can pipe. ”...Now for the doctor.” he said lighting it up.

Raul sat there and kept taking hit after hit. After a few minutes that room smelled like he’d disturbed a nest of skunks and the smoke was so thick you could almost cut it with a knife.

“Yo Duke! We’re gonna head into the cabin next door. We’ll be there when you finish your shit.” Wham said.

Raul hadn’t really heard what Wham said, but he grunted out approval of this new plan. He smoked until that bowl was gone and then he started to get up but became lightheaded. ”....I’m feeling light headed.” he mumbled. Perhaps I should... catch up to them... later.”[/i] He said, slowly drifting into a marijuana induced daze.

He found himself in a garden of roses of various colors. There were birds and bees and the last hit of the sunshine acid. Dr. Gonzo was there. It was as if he hadn’t tricked him ito diving off the boat in shark infested waters. Of course Dr. Gonzo was heavily armed, but hell. If a thing’s worth doing.

Then the flowers turned to flames and the rays of sunlight into black smoke and Dr. Gonzo had grown wings. Demon wings. And began flying around in a tormented rage. “YOU SON OF A BITCH! YOU TRICKED ME! ....I thought we were friends. As your attourney, I advise you to go fuck yourself!” Then a smoldering boulder flew straight at Raul, smacking him in the head...

Raul woke up having split his head open on the shower door. He had fallen from the toilet. ”Holy fuck...” Raul said, clutching his bleeding head. ”...Well that was a definite buzz kill.”

Raul climbed to his feet, still clutching his head. He put what was left of the bag of pot into his pocket and started to reach for the knob when he stopped. He reached over and flushed the toilet, just to try to maintain the illusion.

Raul then opened the door and stepped out. Smoke billowing out behind him. He walked toward the door when the black figure suddenly appeared behind him. The killer withdrew his machete with that shwing noise that always accompanies these things. Raul turned around as the killer buried the blade of that machete deep through his collar bone, severing the muscles to the head. Raul dropped like a sack of potatoes. He lay there, still alive, with no muscular control over his head.

The killer then dropped to his knees, retrieving a hunting knife from his boot and buried it deep into Raul’s stomach. He violently thrusted forward, ripping his stomach wide open. Blood that was more black than red flooded the carpeted flood. It poured like a capsized oil tanker. The whole floor was stained to a darker shade of death as the killer began removing the contents of Raul’s abdominal area.

Raul lay there screaming though paralyzed to interact in anyway. Forced to watch. As he watched, the light at the end of the tunnel slowly flickered out.

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PostSubject: Re: Death At Sea: The Whole Story   Mon Nov 16, 2009 11:53 pm

(section 13)

Team Kimber came running at the sound of Raul’s screams, meeting Wham and Biffy just outside the cabin where they had abandoned Raul. The door was slightly ajar with only a thin crack of light peering out. Wham slowly pushed the door open revealing gallons and gallons of blood. Raul lay there, blank stare in his eyes. Poor poor Raul. Wham pulled a sheet slowly over his legs, up over his head. The good doctor has checked out.

They all quickly vacated the room where Wham began vomiting over the side of the ship. “Pussy.” Rocket accused. “So, why was Raul left alone?” she asked.

“Biffy and I were searching the cabin next door while Raul was on the shitter.” Wham said, defensively.

“Actually Wham was too busy hitting on me to notice if the sky weeped tears of blood, let alone pay any attention to his crew.” Biffy said.

“Well either way, this Raul guy was in your company and you abandoned him.” Kimber said. “Nice move.”

“I can’t believe you abandoned him like that! We were supposed to stay in teams!” SrslySil said.

Wham started to feel the girl power close in on him like a noose, getting tighter and tighter. The women kept interrogating him like he was Verbal Kint. Even though it had been Raul that fell, Wham felt if this interrogation went on much longer, he’d be wishing it had been him instead.....
Team Ready patrolled the top level of the ship because Mr. Spleen was involuntarily in a wheelchair so the lower decks were out of the question. Spleen Gene insisted that he was fully capable of walking, but Ready and Sass weren’t having it. The wind had a nasty bite to it. The sunlight was rapidly fading, but there were no stars in the sky. An ominous feeling crept over them as they watched the last bit of sun light collapse into the distance. “.....Now comes the rain.” Ready warned, a look of weariness on her face......

“...So, what do we do now?” Steve asked PatDaddy.

“Oh I thought Mr. Wonderful-- I mean Mr. HTown had ALL the answers.” Outsider jabbed.

“Dude, now’s not the time.” Steve said. “....And yes, we know. You want my hog. It’s ok. Can’t blame you, really. If I were a cock-loving kind of guy, I’d--”

“It’s gonna get cold in here.” PD interrupted. “Any ideas?”

“Hey, you’re our fearless leader, so I ask you, any ideas?” Steve returned.

PatDaddy pulled out his bic and flicked it. Shadows danced on the wall in scooby-doo like silhouettes, all exagerated and shit. He saw canned food, misscellaneous meats, he noticed a lot of things, but what he didn’t see were bodies. “Uhh.... guys? Didn’t we deposit like.... *counts silently on fingers* ...gotta be 4 or 5 bodies in here and that’s before the sun deck massacre where we still got dead motherfuckers just laying on the deck. Wouldn’t THAT make a great ad: PatDaddy Cruises, and show a picture of everybody that’s lounging eternal....”

“.....You really are one morbid fuck, you know that?” Outside said after an encore of the cricket song.

“...He’s right, though. We had bodies in this motherfucker. Trav, Bob, Frats, and Vegas at least.” Steve said.

“You don’t remember if you carried any other bodies down those 46 some steps and heartlessy shoved them in a meat freezer??” Outsider asked.

“Tossed.” PatDaddy corrected.

“What?” Outsider asked.

“Tossed.” PD replied. “We tossed them in after a round of ring-around-the-rosie.” PatDaddy returned.

“And the answer is yes. I don’t remember. My line feeder has no reccollection of how many bodies have been deposited and he’s too high/lazy to go back and look. The killer is really an alien anyway.” Steve then violently shook for a moment then seemed dazed... “Uh, what just happened there?”

“Uhh, you were babbling something about aliens. It was almost as if you were being channeled through. Weird.” PatDaddy said.

“Aliens. Pfff. Bullshit.” Steve replied.

“So anyway---” PatDaddy started, but stopped having heard a noise in the corner. The 3 stooges wandered over to a pile of 50lb bags of pinto beans. They began to pull away at them and a very cold very bewildered person began to surface. There was a potato sack tied around the neck, though breath was obviously not hindered.

PatDaddy fussed with the knot but it wasn’t budging. Then Steve pulled out a pocket knife. “I got it.” He said.

“NOO!” PD yelled. “You crazy? That’s her fuckin’ neck!” PatDaddy dicked with the knot for another minute then it finally gave. He pulled the mask off only to see Mom all shaken up and cold. “You alright?” PD asked.

“Yeah I’m ok. Just cold. Any idea how I got here?” She asked.

“Shit. We were gonna ask you the same thing.” Steve replied.

“It’s all in God’s plan.” Outsider replied.

“Yeah. .....God of Thunder!! WHOA YEAH!!” Steve yelled, laughing. PD and Steve enter into some rightous air guitar, but only for a moment.

“One thing’s for sure.” PD interjected. “...We gotta get out of here.”

“OK, I got it. Take your bat or whatever you can find and just start making noise. Someone will come.” Steve said.

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” Outsider replied.

“Well if the killer comes, we’ll wack the shit out of him.” PD said.

“One problem, Dr. Watson.” Outsider began. “We don’t know who the killer is. Our killer wears a friendly face.”

“Well if you don’t wanna freeze to death, start bangin’!!” PatDaddy said.

They started banging on everything they could think of. The walls, the ceiling, the pipes, everything. Almsot like the bat signal, everybody on the ship got the 911. Everybody..............

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PostSubject: Re: Death At Sea: The Whole Story   Mon Nov 16, 2009 11:54 pm

(episode 14)

The ship began to dance as the waves started to batter the ship. There was an unsettling feeling from the bitterness of the wind that seemed to crawl on your skin as though it were a thousand spiders trembling with anticipation. The feeling grew and sank in the pit of your stomach, filling it with an ominous sense of impending doom. The sky were as black as the whole in your soul where all of your dark secrets are kept. Silent. Waiting.

The approaching storm writhed and hissed as the clouds twisted and murdered their way through the sky. Small bursts of blue light lit up individual clouds, with jagged strands of light that claw their way from cloud to cloud like the hands of some malevolent force. A bright flash of lightning erupted not 20 yards from the ship, this brilliant and jagged masterpiece of the heavens which seemed to merely appear, beginning within the blackened wrath above and plunging into the sea. Down came the rains.

Thunder crashed almost simultaneously. The force of the rumble channeled through the walls of the ship, sending a chill down the spines of virtually everyone on board. Team Steve stopped their banging for the duration of the rumble, heeding its warnings of despair. Then with an even more inviggorated sense urgency, the banging and yelling resumed.

They could hear the trampling of feet on the stairs. While they stared desperately at the door, they saw a dark shadow rush by. Then suddenly the door opened wide with Kimber standing there, and the others were close behind. Steve and crew quickly exited the freezer, shaking from the cold.

“Lookie what we found.” Steve announced as Mom came through the door. Everyone began to greet Mom and all that good stuff then Steve interrupted. “Hello!! Psycho killer! Can we try and stay focussed here?”

“Well, since you bring it up, what are we to do now?” Outsider asked. “I doubt that the killer is just going to jump out and go ‘HERE I AM!!’.”

“This story MUST be coming to an end. I actually agree with you on that.” Steve said. “Wait a minute..... Where’s Ready? ....And Gene? Not to mention Sass?”

Sass came running into the room now, looking behind her almost every step of the way. “Ready can’t get Gene down the stairs. They’re all alone, come quick!”

Gazing up the stair well, one could only see darkness though the storm was in full brew. Blinding flashes of lightning would reveal a frantic Ready Trying to help Gene walk the stairs. Rain poured from the bottom step into the floor as it had from step to step as it descended the staircase.

PatDaddy quickly assesed the situation and then climbed the steps as fast as his massive body would carry him. Upon reaching them only a few steps from the top, PatDaddy turned around and yelled “Hop on!” Gene threw his arms over the shoulders of this normally rather morbid guy, locking his hands together. PD reached back and grabbed Gene’s legs and quickly hobbled back down the stairs. At the bottom, he quickly found a place for him to sit and carefully put him down.

“Thanks, PD, I needed that.” Gene exclaimed. He was soaked from the rain. Ready was heavily saturated as well as she descended righ behind them.

“No.... Problem.” PatDaddy gasped as he himself located a place to park it. He withdrew his inhaler and squeezed off a round. His frantic breathing started becoming slower and less intense. He was a little dazed, but something didn’t seem right as he scanned the crowd.


“Where did he go?” PatDaddy asked. “Outsider. Where did he go?”

Everyone kind of shrugged and looked around.

“Toooooooooooodd!” Rocket called. “TOOOOOOODD!” She tried again. No answer.

There was a semi-long corridor in between the stair well and the storage room. The corridor was dimly lit, but the lights kept surging and flickering. At the end of the corridor was the door to the storage room which is where the freezer is. The door slowly swung shut.

They stared at the door for what was only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. They all stood there, and in Gene and PD’s case, sat there, frozen in time. The reality of their situation staring at them from eyes made of steel and iron.
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In Memory of PD


Posts : 51
Join date : 2008-11-14

PostSubject: Re: Death At Sea: The Whole Story   Mon Nov 16, 2009 11:54 pm


“....Well, this is what we’re all here for, huh? .......I’m goin’ in.” Steve stated, slowly looking around. “.....Who’s coming with me?”

Silence. Even the storm seems to have reached a dead calm.

“I will.” Whammon stated, stepping forward.

“Me, too.” Ready said.

“I’m going.” Biffy said.

One by one everyone agreed to go. “Somebody needs to stay with Gene.” Steve said.

“I will.” PatDaddy volunteered.

“Good man.” Steve said, nodding. “Is everybody ready to go?”

Steve looked into everyone’s faces, seeing the fear in their eyes, knowing his eyes were filled with the same. One by one, they looked each other in the eyes hoping to ease their own fear, but to no avail. Steve’s gaze slowly made its way back to PD and Gene. With fear in his eyes, Steve forced a smile. “See you soon, brothers.”

As quietly as possible, they stepped through the corridor to the door at the end. Steve trembled as his hand embraced the cold metal of the door handle, shaking uncontrollably now as he turned the knob. The door squeeled and whined as he shoved forward with all the will he could summon. The storage room was pitch black, save for the flickering light bleeding in from the corridor. Steve entered first, followed by Whammon.

A scream came from the back of the line. They turned to see Sass laying face down shaking and gasping. Blood oozed from beneath Sass as the silhouette of an arm lunged into view, grabbing the door and slamming it shut.

* * *

Gene and PD sat there quietly, listening to the noises eminating from the storage room, wondering. Hoping. Gene pulled out a few markers that he carries around because he never knows when the artist within wants to come out and play. He began scribbling on the wall. PD wasn’t really at a good angle to see what Gene was doing. He pondered for a moment then returned his attention to the storage room where it sounded like a cross between a Bruce Lee film with better over dubs and WWF Monday Night Fights or whatever the fuck.

The door at the top of the stairs creaked and moaned as it swayed in the post storm breeze. Occasionally it would clang against the rail, but usually just creaked. PD had been listening to that door creak for the duration of their wait though and had had about enough of it. “I’mma go shut that fuckin’ door. Be right back.” PatDaddy said to gene, getting up and returning to climb the stairs again...

As soon as the door had swung shut, Steve and crew instinctively banded together backing up against a wall. A stationary light then clicked out, shining brightly in their eyes. They could occasionally see the shadow the the killer moving around behind the light, but sometimes they couldn’t see anything.

Like a good game of cat and mouse, the killer taunted them by simply pacing back and forth behind the light. Back and forth, back and forth. Occasionally he’d stop walking for a moment. The silence at these times was maddening. Then all of a sudden he killed the light and while they were still blinded, he ran in swinging a machete from side to side, striking flesh with every slice.

The light then powered up again and nobody was down, but the whole front line was sliced up pretty good. Steve yelled loudly and bulldozed straight for the shadow, tackling him to the floor. After a moment of blood dripping shock, the rest of them stormed over there swinging. They started beating him with whatever they could grab. Most just used their fists.

They continued to beat and kick him until it was apparent that he wasn’t moving anymore. Steve stopped swinging and was urging the others to do the same. They stared at his unmoving body for a few moments. Steve then kicked him in the side. No response.

“So now what do we do?” Whammon asked. “You know this fucker ain’t dead. I’m not getting punked by a horror movie cliche, I’m telling you that right now.”

“Well.....” Steve began. “We’re gonna need to tie this fucker up. But first thing..... I gotta know who the fuck this is/”

Steve knelt down, slowly reaching for the mask with his left hand, while clutching a bat in his right. Steve had his hand on the mask when the door flew open. They all jumped backward a step in fright. They stared intensely at that open doorway, seeing no one. The door hadn’t opened itself however.

Right away Steve knew it wasn’t PatDaddy because he would’ve have came in. He stood up slowly and walked toward the door. He stepped into the open doorway and there was no one standing there. Then like a bad acid flashback, his eyes zoomed to the end of the corridor. Patdaddy and Gene were laying on the floor covered in blood. He ran down the corridor, the blood seeming to engulf the floor and walls.

Steve panted hard as he stopped at Patdaddy’s head, which was pointing toward the storage room. He knelt down, checking for anything. PatDaddy’s eyes flung open, startling Steve who was already accepting what his eyes had told him. PatDaddy struggled to speak. His speech was too faint, Steve couldn’t understand him. He knelt closer placing his ear right to PD’s mouth.

“...S-SS-STAIRS.” PatDaddy choked out.

Steve looked up as a masked figure left from the darknes of the stairwell, grabbing Steve with ease, a razor sharp hunting knife to his neck offering a deal he simply couldn’t refuse.

“Move.” it barked in a deliberately muffled voice. They walked back down the corridor and into the storage room, the gang slowly backing away from the masked figure. Figure #2. Masked figure #1 came to and carefully stood up, now joining #2.

“If you want to see this man live, you will do as I say, exactly as I say it.” The second figure stated, still muffling his voice.

Maksed figure #1 began pulling out deck chairs and unfolding them in a line. “Sit down.” He barked.

The gang didn’t move. They stood there wondering what they should do. Killer #2 digs into Steve neck causing him to wince as a large bead of blood formed and then streamed down his neck and into his shirt. Upon seeing this, the gang immidiately sat down. Killer #1 began binding their feet and hands and gagging their mouths.

“Their good.” Killer #1 said to #2 upon completion.

“Good.” Killer #2 said. He then buried his blade into Steve’s throat and dropped him to the floor, hissing and gurgling. Everyone shrieked within their bindings and started trying to yank free.

Whammon was yanking as hard as he could trying to get loose. The more he yanked, though, and the more he struggle, the more the knots weren’t budging.

“Can’t get it? Let me help with that.” Killer #2 said, walking over, withdrawing his machete and crashing down om Whammon’s hand just above the wrist, freeing from his bindings, as well as his hand. Whammon screamed and shook wildly and his fingers and palm fell to the floor.

* * *

PatDaddy lat there, drenched in his own blood, unable to move. He looked over at Gene as good as he was able, but he didn’t appear to be moving either. “HHHey Gene, good buddy...” PatDaddy groaned. “You still with us?”

Gene lay silent. PatDaddy listened intently bud heard nothing but his own breathing, which was extremely weak. Then he started to hear some murmuring from Gene, but it was inaudible.

“Can’t say this was the vacation I had in mind. Know what I’m sayin’?” PatDaddy said, wanting to chuckle but it just wasn’t happening.

Gene lay silent again, but PD could hear very faint, very soft breaths eminating from him.

“Now would be a good time for one of them miracles of your god.” PatDaddy said, semi-sarcastically. PD lay silent again for a moment. “Hang in there buddy. Hang in there.”

* * *

“Anybody else need..... A HAND?” Killer #2 said, shaking Whammons hand at everybody. They all shook their heads wildly as if to say no. “Well good. I’m through being Mr. Nice Guy anyway.” He said turning to killer #1 and giving a nod.

Killer #1 opened the freezer door and went inside. He quickly returned dragging what appeared to be a body that had been beaten to death. He drug the body from the room and chained it by the hands to the iron pipes over head that supplied the coolant to the freezer.

Hanging from this position, his feet barely touched the floor on the tips of his toes. He groaned and turned his head revealing that it was Outsider, bleeding, bruised, and broken.

Killer #2 withdraws his hunting knife once again and walks over to Outsider, slowly slicing across his stomach.The gang shut their eyes and tried their best to turn away, but the killer #2 lunged at them pointing his bloody knife. “YOU WILL WATCH EVERYTHING I DO, OR I WILL CUT YOUR EYES RIGHT OUT OF YOUR FUCKING SKULL.” He said, still pointing the knife. Then just to make an example, he rushed over to Whammon, and jammed the knife into one eye and ripped it out. Whammon screamed and shook in his chair. Killer #2 stared at him, repulsed by his cowardice. He grabbed Whammon by the hair and yanked his head backward, and then he slit his throat. Blood poured from his neck. Killer #2 slung his head forward, returning to Outsider. “Now what do you think, a finger?” He said, reaching for Outsider’s hand.

A light brighter than white swelled from the corridor, expanding outward flooding the storge room and everything else with a light so bright that everything disappeared in its glare. When it finally subsided, an image floated in the doorway, radiating white light. He glided across the floor without the use of his feet, grabbing Killer #2, sending him to the deck screaming in pain. Killer #1 tried to run, but was easily caught by the figure where he met a similar downfall as #2.

The bright man glided over to wear Sass lay where he knelt down, slowly waving his hands over her wounds. Slowly the blood retracted back into her body, he lungs slowly refilling with air. Sass awakened breathing long, full breaths. The bright man then glided toward Whammon and repeated the process, also releasing him from his resraints. He then healed Steve, then Outsider. Then he glided to the center of the room and started glowing brighter and brighter, radiating down the corridor, up the stairs, across the deck, radiating into the midnight sky, for that moment turning night into day. Then it faded away much as it started, retracting back into the bright man. It faded to only a flicker and wa gone, the man falling to the floor.

After a few moments, Whammon quickly released the others. PatDaddy came walking in looking as though he’d been ridden hard and put away wet. The man in the floor slowly stood up. It was Gene. He seemed to be completely healed. He said he felt so good, he wanted to do a lap around the ship. Naturally everyone was dumbfounded. He then explained to them that he lay in the floor, bleeding, ....dying, and then he said it was as if God himself layed his hand on him, and after that he remembers sitting up just now feeling like a million bucks.

“Well alright then, so who are those two fucks?” PatDaddy butted in.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Biffy said walking over to them who were just now regaining conscious. She knelt down and ripped off the masks to reveal Trav and RedBob.

“What the fuck? Those guys were dead!” PatDaddy yelled.

“You sure about that?” Biffy asked.

“I tossed them in the freezer myself!” PatDaddy said, H-Town grunted. “With a little help.” Steve knodded.

“Well ask’em yourself!” Biffy said.

“....Well?” PatDaddy glared.

“.......I staged my death.” Trav said, reluctantly.

“Well, what about you, Red?”

RedBob sat there quietly for a minute then said “I wasn’t dead. I was in the middle of sucking myself off when you came in, so I played dead. Seemed like a good idea at the time.”

“Why’d you guys do it?” Ready asked.

“You want a motive? Man, screw your Scooby-Doo ending and roll credits.” Trav said.

End credits started to roll as everybody went down the corridor and up the stairs to where it was a bright sunny day. Fusty was at the bar, Vegas was dealing cards, everybody was there.

”This grampa of yours sounds like my kind of guy! Wound a little tight perhaps, but a damn fine American!” Raul said to fusty as he finished his drink.

The whole gang was there, just smiling and having a good time. And then like any good story, it fades to black. The end.
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Death At Sea: The Whole Story
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