What Are Turds Worth?
“Do you have a minute, Mrs. Turdsworth? I would like to discuss
your son. I’m afraid it’s bad. Very bad.”
Martha Turdsworth held her breath at the mention of her boy,
Jeremy. That fucking little shit. What has he done this time? she thought to
herself, as old Mrs. Pringle accosted her in the school foyer with an
awfully indignant look on her wrinkly, wart-spattered head.
Jeremy Turdsworth’s teacher was an uppity bitch, who was under
the grand delusion that her shit didn’t stink, and, no doubt, what she had to
tell Martha wasn’t going to be pretty. Jeremy had an overtly deranged feces
fetish—an obsession he had carried with him since infancy, for which
Martha blamed her late husband, Jeremy’s father.
When Jeremy was only a few months old, his dad carried him to
the toilet, in a drunken stupor and busting for a piss. It’s unclear who the
culprit was, but somebody had neglected to flush after “droppin’ the kids
off at the pool”, three small lumpy nuggets, one giant log, and another
excremental monument that only made it halfway down the bowl. For
fucks sake, there wasn’t even any toilet paper amongst the diorama of
dung, not one fucking scrap of bowel towel!
“Someone’s got shit in their pants,” said the drunken father. “It
must’ve been yer Auntie Margaret, the disgusting pig. Hehehe.” Jeremy’s
dad held him in one hand, and pulled out his smelly, flaccid cock with the
other, swaying before the porcelain throne. He surveyed the contents of the
old, chipped toilet blankly for a moment, and then unleashed his urinary
fury on the stubborn shit refusing to go down.
“Would ya look at that, boy,” he slurred and gripped onto the back
of Jeremy’s onesie, holding him out over the bowl and directly above his
orangey yellow stream. “Watch this, son. Daddy’s gonna piss that shit right
off the wall! Wooo! Wooo! Wooo!” The plastered idiot was lowering and
raising the kid like a fucking yo-yo, until, of course, he lost his grip. No,
not of his dick—his son. Jeremy followed the yellow piss trail headfirst
into the shitter. His dad thought at first that Jeremy had shot painlessly
out of his dick, such was the perfect trajectory, until his inebriated brain
registered what had happened.
If after you read this, you feel you can stomach more, be sure to hit the Amazon link below and grab yourself a copy. If you like your horror to be sick and twisted, eye guarantee you will love SPLAT 2! :P