write a short story about a fellow b3tan.
Swipey swayed from side to side as she mouthed along, at least to the words she knew, as katy perry blasted from her ipod. she stopped to admire herself in a shop window, resisting the urge to focus on the shoes inside, rather than her gorg figure. she was sure no-one else would be dressed as a sexy schoolgirl, at least, not as sexy as her anyway. she smiled at herself then continued to skip down the high street, accepting admiring glances from all the hot men who were stopping to stare at her. It was a shame really, that she didn't notice the large wad of toilet paper sticking out of her arse and following her down the road, like a sad floppy tail. If only she had worn the cat outfit.
( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:00, 100 replies, latest was 12 years ago)

that's not enarly grotesque enough to be a real swipe story

(quintsy, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:03, Reply)

you do one then q

( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:04, Reply)

Thanks for that
Coffee all over the place
( sporters I’m sincerely gratitude to you, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:03, Reply)

oh man, that parkinsons is hard to live with.

( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:04, Reply)

At least I haven't got Alzheimers

( sporters I’m sincerely gratitude to you, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:05, Reply)

yeah, she's a real bitch.

( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:06, Reply)

fucking hell sporty, that was poor.

( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:06, Reply)

Sorry

( sporters I’m sincerely gratitude to you, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:07, Reply)

At least I haven't got Alzheimers

( sporters I’m sincerely gratitude to you, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:05, Reply)

At least I haven't got Alzheimers

( sporters I’m sincerely gratitude to you, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:05, Reply)

Please kill yourself.

( Fucking hell Jeff I am not a robot, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:07, Reply)

I'd rather read your writing than apeloverage's.

( Fucking hell Jeff I am not a robot, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:04, Reply)

I still don't know who that is.

( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:06, Reply)

You're lucky.

( Fucking hell Jeff I am not a robot, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:11, Reply)

Or A Vagabond's

(localboy purveyor of pisspoor puns, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:07, Reply)

What the fuck is this?
Creative writing class or something?
( tangledupinblue hairy badge with moving eyes, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:08, Reply)

fuck you tangles.
might be more fun than a fucking thread about food or dozer having a shit.
is it because you're too dull to do one?
( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:09, Reply)

Yes.

( tangledupinblue hairy badge with moving eyes, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:10, Reply)

FUCKING DO ONE!!!
c'mon, there's so many characters here!
chompy playing uno while his missus strips for tramps.
monty begging for change outside a poudstretcher
you... doing whatever the fuck you do.
( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:11, Reply)

Carrots
The kinky bitch
( sporters I’m sincerely gratitude to you, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:12, Reply)

I don't think tramps can afford strippers.

(PsychoChomp, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:16, Reply)

you're the expert.

( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:16, Reply)

I'm an expert on not affording strippers that's for sure.

(PsychoChomp, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:17, Reply)

I can't really be bothered to write much though
b3ta.com/questions/offtopic/post1762908
( tangledupinblue hairy badge with moving eyes, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:17, Reply)

Or QOTW as it is known

( sporters I’m sincerely gratitude to you, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:10, Reply)

I might do some shedformers erotic fiction there.
if I can be arsed.
( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:13, Reply)

Dee Eeyut in the big sportscow house
"Aah divvent knaa what w'problem is, pet", sighed sportscow as he opened another bottle of red. "If theey durn't want t'see w'bairns, aal jus keep 'em heeya an' theey c'n jus' shite, man"
Mrs Cow looked at her husband with fear in her eyes, his drinking was getting further and further out of control and she didn't understand why he was getting so angry - all her mother-in-law had suggested was that it would be nice if the bairns could help her scratch the silver bits off her scratchcards for her, as her hands were getting too arthritic to grip the coin properly now.
( tangledupinblue hairy badge with moving eyes, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:17, Reply)

hahahaha!
Brilliant
( sporters I’m sincerely gratitude to you, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:19, Reply)

Though I actually did have to decode it to read

( sporters I’m sincerely gratitude to you, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:21, Reply)

What do you mean?
It was in your language.
( tangledupinblue hairy badge with moving eyes, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:24, Reply)

That is clearly Geordie

( sporters I’m sincerely gratitude to you, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:24, Reply)

It's like Spanish and Portuguese though, isn't it?
There may be differences, but you can understand one another.
( tangledupinblue hairy badge with moving eyes, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:28, Reply)

Sort of

( sporters I’m sincerely gratitude to you, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:29, Reply)

see? not so tough now was it.

( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:20, Reply)

I feel emotionally drained now.

( tangledupinblue hairy badge with moving eyes, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:22, Reply)

he managed to control his shaking hands by gripping the arms of the chair.
what was going on now? a rare moment of absolute lucidity gripped him like a downs giving a wank. all the people were speaking strangely, he couldn't understand a word! a trickle of ice cold fear slithered down his back as the people around the table traded mangled words back and forth. had he finally lost his mind? was his wife right, was he working too hard? then it hit him, he was in poland, they were speaking their native tongue. battered smiled and relaxed, his legs shaking only slightly as he counted down the moments until lunch, and the bottle of scotch awaiting him.
( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:24, Reply)

I dont like Scotch

( sporters I’m sincerely gratitude to you, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:25, Reply)

smashing. that story was about battered.

( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:26, Reply)

But I dont like Scotch

( sporters I’m sincerely gratitude to you, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:27, Reply)

Thanks. xx

( Fucking hell Jeff I am not a robot, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:30, Reply)

I'd rather talk about baked potatoes to be honest.

(PsychoChomp, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:11, Reply)

Sweet potato is excellent baked

( sporters I’m sincerely gratitude to you, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:12, Reply)

start a fucking thread about them then.
you fucking spud-u-like prick.
( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:12, Reply)

The helicopter landed gently on the lawns of the grand house
Out stepped Quinten, dapper as usual. From the terrace Sasha appeared from the French doors

"OH Q, COME AND SMASH MY BACK DOORS IN, LUV"
( sporters I’m sincerely gratitude to you, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:24, Reply)

she shouted so loud her false tit fell out her dress.
"nevar mnd love. I'll buy you anew oranhe," he replied in his garbled prose.
( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:28, Reply)

hahaha!

( sporters I’m sincerely gratitude to you, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:29, Reply)

PHWOAR

(quintsy, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:42, Reply)

Newsnights editor is stepping down over Savile gate or whatevz

(PsychoChomp, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:28, Reply)

oh right. smashing.

( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:29, Reply)

Innit doe?

(PsychoChomp, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:31, Reply)

pretty bored of it all tbh.

( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:32, Reply)

As am I to be honest. They're having an investigation
I don't think we need daily headlines about it for the next month.
(PsychoChomp, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:33, Reply)

nonce abused kids. not really that surprising, is it.

( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:34, Reply)

They're investigating themselves.....
so that'll be objective, then.
(localboy purveyor of pisspoor puns, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:36, Reply)

The bushes rustled as the young girl walked past
Was she being followed?, she worried. Ahead lay the underpass, it's lights dull and flickering. Should she go through it and get home quickly, or take the longer, well lit route past those stupid concrete cows?

She decided the risk was worth it and quickened her pace. As she got through the underpass, she turned to see a dark figure, face hidden.

Then CQ hit her on his bike and fell off.
( sporters I’m sincerely gratitude to you, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:36, Reply)

haha, splendid.

( the mighty badger Aphrodite, on a bar stool, by your side, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:41, Reply)

The Day Psychochomp Won (sub title: How T*e B******s Got Her Groove Back)
Our hero, P was mulling over yet another spreadsheet, forecasting paperclip sales for the next quarter, and he let out a wistful sigh, surely there was more to life than this?

Meanwhile, a hundred miles away a girl works in a sleazy bar, she only works there to pay for her gravely ill mother's cancer treatment, and as she releases another bucket of glitter bodygel over herself on stage, twisting her ankle around a slippery silver pole, the crowd cheers and she can't help but think how empowering it all is, empowering, but somehow unfulfilling, and she daydreams that someday, somewhere she will be rescued by a knight in a shining Toyota Corolla.

"Psychochomp!" P wakes from his spreadsheet-daze to see his boss standing over him, "where are last month's final rexel reports?! O'Hallahan's gonna bust your balls if we don't have them by 2pm!"

P clenches his fist, grits his teeth and mutters, "screw this".
In one swift movement, Chomp rises to his feet, uppercutting his boss in a shower of teeth and blood, sending him flying across the office, landing neatly and unconscious on a stack of copier paper by the water cooler.
The whole office rises to its feet, dumbstruck, and they slowly begin to clap and cheer. Chomp undoes his tie and throws it to the ground, storming out of the office in a hail of tossed paper and unfettered stationery.

In the parking lot he spies his lowly Cortina, with a bin bag over one window and no two matching body panels, but then in the corner of his vision, a mighty throbbing beast of a machine just begging to be ridden.
He hops onto the waiting Aprilia RSV4, and googles how to hotwire a scooter on his iPhone 3GS. It purrs to life, with all 35 horses braying beneath him.

He rides off, not knowing where he's going or which way he's headed, he just hits the road.

Back at the bar, TB's set has finished and all the empowerment is starting to wear off as she scrubs what looks like icing sugar from her platform stilhetto.
The bar's owner stomps into her dressing room, "what the hell do you call that, TB?! You know your set is supposed to go on for 15 minutes, not 12!"

"but boss, I..." she begins to reply.
"get the hell back out there til I say you can come back in!" he grabs her by the hair and throws her back into the learing crowd as she holds back a tear.
As she gyrates rhytmically to Steps Greatest Hits, the low rumbling roar of an engine can be heard over the sound of the music, approaching from the distance.
It stops, the door to the bar opens, showing the silhoutte of a real man, and he approaches the bar.

TB notices the guy at the bar, and they fix each other an appreciative stare. Her 3 minutes are up and she goes to leave the floor, but again the bar manager grabs her, this time by the wrist, "where do you think you're going?" he spits right in her ear.
"you'll do your full 15 minutes again, and only I tell you when to leave."

The stranger at the bar approaches, "hey bub, leave the lady alone," he cracks his knuckles and his eyes sparkle as the glitterball reflects on them, the rest of him almost totaly obscured in the darkness.

"she ain't no lady!" says the barman, spinning round and lunging at the stranger.
The stranger slams the barman's head into a nearby pole and repeatedly karate chops the back of his neck until he slumps to the floor.
The music stops and every punter and member of staff in the place turns to see PC standing over the manager. Each of them withdraws a weapon and attacks, but Chompy Kung Fu's the fuck out of them all, bodies fly everywhere, bones break, teeth smash, blood sprays up every wall.
Antonio Banderas happens to be at a nearby booth, stands and withdraws pistols to take aim at P, who descends on him rapidly, punching his face clean off.

Bruce Lee turns from his stool at the corner of the bar, catches PC's eye and nods. PC nods back.

"let's get out of here, babe," Chomp says, taking TB by the hand and leading her out of the door. They hop onto his Aprilia and thunder off into the distance.

As fugitives they go on the run for months, finally escaping to Brussels, where Chomp runs for head of the EU and wins by a landslide, his first act as leader of Europe is to instate free healthcare for all, effectively saving TB's mother's life.
He lights a massive cigar, puts on his aviators and hops onto his two wheeled Italian monster, TB hops on the back and holds him tight. They head off into the distance once again, to live happily ever after.
(quintsy, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:37, Reply)

shit, forgot to include swipe as the villain
may need a sequel
(quintsy, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:37, Reply)

I can't wait.

(PsychoChomp, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:41, Reply)

me neither
apologies if it is offensive, i tried to censor myself
(quintsy, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:42, Reply)

I was mainly offended that you gave me an iPhone.

(PsychoChomp, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:44, Reply)

3GS, motherfucker

(quintsy, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:46, Reply)

i don't ever care if i get banned for writing this
i enjoyed writing it
(quintsy, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:41, Reply)

good man, it's all about the fun!

( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:42, Reply)

Excellent work Q

(Reverend Fister "a disciplined fuckwit", Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:57, Reply)

As professional as the doctor was, this patient was a struggle.
A simple smear test was all he was trying to perform, but she wouldn't stop fucking *writhing*. OK, sometimes it's uncomfortable for people but this was something else. He was starting to worry that she was getting off on it. A middle-aged woman, she was obviously not getting much action at home. Hardly surprising really, her husband was in the waiting room and it looking as though it was a struggle for him to keep breathing let alone give his wife a seeing-to.

Manfully he braced his ears against the rising wails of pleasure from his patient as he withdrew the speculum. Then she rolled over on the table and looked back him.

"Oh doctor," purred B3th, "now kick my shitbox in".
( Kroney, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:39, Reply)

roffle.

( the mighty badger Aphrodite, on a bar stool, by your side, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:41, Reply)

hahahahahaha!

( sporters I’m sincerely gratitude to you, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:42, Reply)

well done frenchie.

( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:44, Reply)

very good
*clicks*
(localboy purveyor of pisspoor puns, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:44, Reply)

Nice work

(Reverend Fister "a disciplined fuckwit", Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:57, Reply)

so many screens, it was just perfect.
there was one for bbc news, one for reddit, one for b3ta, one for conspiracy net, one for tumblr, one for xcom and one for WoW. boy! his life was complete, what more could he want? sure, throwing a six then a three then a four on turn seventeen of the game of thrones boardgame had been harsh but still, the was always another game just around the corner! his phone chirped the birdie song and he picked it up, noticing the message. he read it an his face dropped, she had yet *another* shift at the club. chompy sighed to himself.
( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:41, Reply)

The Day The Hamster Turned
"What about me eh?" he thought as his 'owner' returned to preen himself again and again.
"That pink shirt and cornflower tie should never be seen together" he thought.

Later that evening as the 'owner' opened the cage to feed him, he took his chance. Straight up his outstretched arm, he sank his teeth into that beautiful face, over and over, ruining it.

"Model, my arse" he though triumphantly, chewing the last remnants of nose from his face. Now full, he curled up in the hay and slept a happy hamster.
( sporters I’m sincerely gratitude to you, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:45, Reply)

They pulled up in a dirty white transit van around the corner from the school. Rob jumped out, leaving Scaryduck to park. Rob checked his watch: 3.20pm. ‘Perfect’ he thought to himself. Ten minutes until school finished for the day. He checked his pockets for the chloroform and felt himself getting hard at the thought of another 6 year old joining him and Scaryduck for some serious fingering.

His phone rang; Scaryduck. ‘Hurry up, the kids will be out in a minute and I want to get a really sexy one before posting some more racist jokes online’ said Rob.

There was a sob from the other end of the phone ‘I’m scared Rob. Much as I want to join you in some top fingering action I’m worried I’ll get caught again. I can’t face going back inside’. Rob pondered for a moment ‘ listen Duck. One last kid. Then we’ll quit. I’ve got such a boner about getting my digits inside a nice tight young one I can’t walk away now'.

To be continued...
( Fucking hell Jeff I am not a robot, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:50, Reply)

"listen very carefully I shall zay zis only once!"
there was a weak round of laughter from his colleagues, who then dispersed and muttered to each other. still, it was better than nothing. with a quick hong-he-hong he took his large mug of hot chocolate back to his desk and twirled his moustache.
"you do realise that poirot was belgian, you fucking nutter!" emily exclaimed from the desk next to his. kroney sniffed a little and looked down at the swirling liquid in the cup. he wasn't quite sure when the breakdown had happened, probably shortly after she had left..... his fractured mind reasserted itself, snapping him away from the painful memories.
"ah am zorry, mon cherie, ah av work to do."
( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:50, Reply)

This is almost exactly how my days go.
Except there's more laughter. Raucous laughter. Maniacal cackling, really. Mostly my own.
( Kroney, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:53, Reply)

He checked himself in the hall mirror one last time before leaving the house.
He had managed to copy the outfit of the mannequin in the window of Topman almost perfectly.
He doubted that those plebs in the office would notice how perfectly he had matched the powder blue of his eyebrow ring with his socks (three pairs for a pound in York market!), but he just knew this gave him an air of superiority over them and the women would somehow sense this and be drawn to him.
He clicked his stacked heels together then left the house, Insane Clown Posse playing LOUD on his iPod, he felt sure that there were women watching him from nearby houses, each one undressing him with their eyes.
"I'm the most motherfucking alternative manager that leisure centre has ever had" PD chuckled to himself as he strolled along the path by the River Ouse.
( tangledupinblue hairy badge with moving eyes, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:57, Reply)

this happened yesterday.

(dozers, do fuck off ur a nob m8, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 12:22, Reply)

gonz in america.
this beef jerky stuff wasn't really all that bad, he thought as he chewed more of the stringy, tough meat. the fire crackled away into the night and a wolf howled away in the distance. sure, there was no chicks, but this was probably the best holiday he's been on. the saddle bumping against his arse all day actually made all the poo's go back up! result! he hunkered down into his blanket and started to drift off, before realising there was someone else there. "I ain't never done a jew," came the gruff voice of dan. gonz swallowed the remaining jerky.
( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 11:59, Reply)

mmpsheart
the year is mc1642, scotland has been living under the tyrannical throne of king sportscoo of england for more than mc200 years.

Mmps is a peace-loving man, about to marry his mcfiance, mirren in some godless ceremony invoing flowers and shit, when the local english lord decrees that he should have his way with all the scottish lassies on their wedding night, even if they are a bit ginger.
but mmps won't be having none o' dat, so he picks up his MacClaymore and unleashes holy hell on the entire english army, battering them left right and centre, like mars bars. for some reason he and his mates show them their arses too.

eventually mmps makes his way to london and for some reason nobs a french bird with his MacCock, McFucking her to the greatest McOrgasm she's ever had. "Le Braw!" she sighs.
He confronts King Sporty, "ah yul no beat me, yeh sassanach bastard ye!" he yells, holding his sword aloft.

"leave out mate, I've got issues with me mum and dad," says Sportscow, the pain clearly audible in his strained voice.

"fer fucks sake, man. how ye no know that if ye'd been a be'er son yer maw and paw might no be say shite wi' yer kids, ken?" and he beheads the king with one mighty MacSwing, freeing scotland to conquer the world, setting up haggiseries on every corner and making skirts fashionable for men, but somehow still not being able to win at the football.

They've got golf though, well done them.
(quintsy, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 12:10, Reply)

This sounds familiar.

( Kroney, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 12:14, Reply)

I like the historical accuracy in the story.

( tangledupinblue hairy badge with moving eyes, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 12:16, Reply)

ah dammit, it definitely needs more 'hoots!' and 'jings!'

(quintsy, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 12:17, Reply)

and "ochayes" and moar "FREEEEEEDOOOOOOM"

(localboy purveyor of pisspoor puns, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 12:19, Reply)

I think you are being a bit racist there, localboy.

( tangledupinblue hairy badge with moving eyes, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 12:20, Reply)

i can't believe he was jsut so racist about the lovely scottish people, tangles
doesn't he realise how much they've done for us?
(quintsy, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 12:22, Reply)

go on then, what have they done for us?

(localboy purveyor of pisspoor puns, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 12:24, Reply)

they invented the tv, the phone and skag

(quintsy, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 12:27, Reply)

Some people are just ungrateful, q.

( tangledupinblue hairy badge with moving eyes, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 12:24, Reply)

How?
I see no surrendering, garlic, cheese or shoulder-shrugging in it.
(localboy purveyor of pisspoor puns, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 12:17, Reply)

I find the French bird unrealistic.
She would light a Gitane, shrug her shoulders and tell him Claude was better.
( Kroney, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 12:21, Reply)

but you'll never take OUR MARS BARS!!!

( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 12:38, Reply)

mumpers flinched as the pint glass crashed to the floor beside him.
There was claret everywhere, someone must have been hit on the way down. Fucking typical, he'd only wanted them to come out for a quiet pint. People were looking around them and the lassie covered in blood wouldn't stop screaming. Then he heard the voice he was dreading

"no cunt leaves until we find out which of youse cunts did this"

He knew it was a mistake to let Mrs Mumpers have the second bottle of buckie.
( the mighty badger Aphrodite, on a bar stool, by your side, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 12:37, Reply)

she'll read this badge, you're in for it now!

( mark morrisons prison shoes I love Willie, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 12:41, Reply)

I reckon I am an' all.

( the mighty badger Aphrodite, on a bar stool, by your side, Mon 22 Oct 2012, 12:41, Reply)