Author: Susie
The both of them were sitting in a dark room. Cassandra was tied up, pretty well actually. I think Susie is just skilled in these kind of stuff. Yes, Susie is edgy. Who cares if Susie is edgy? Go fuck yourselves. Suzie sat down, Susie sat down in front of Cassandra. Cassandra was passed out on the chair. Maybe she overdosed her? Who knows? She was supposed to be awake 30 minutes earlier. Susie was holding the blade in her hand, checking if it was sharp. After all, Cassandra’s blood was not that bad. She served her well. I think Susie was thinking over and over the decision: Is it really? Should I do it? She would look up to Cassandra, then down to the knife, then up to Cassandra, then down to the knife, then up to Cassandra, then down to the knife. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. But Cassandra was being annoying lately. Susie, in fact, hates Cassandra. Three dots. The silence is getting loud. She was told to do it. If she did not kill her, her life would be at danger. She tried to convince them that it was not necessary, but it actually was. If Cassandra doesn’t die, Susie tomorrow will suffocate until every last breath gets taken away. She looked up to Cassandra’s face and down to the knife. Up, down, up, down, up, down.
Here we go again… Jesus Christ AA is free btw
This is about as edgy as a freshly dropped cow pie, I’ll tell ya what.
Edit: Okay, I got caught. I was originally going to post this as ‘Hank Hill.’ Clicked the captcha then Submit, then… it didn’t go through. I refreshed the page, rinse, repeat. Only problem was, I mindlessly clicked through and didn’t change the username to Hank Hill again. So, the browser went with the only one saved in the cookie. Me. The schmuck. Haha!
Sure. I could’ve just deleted this quickly but… where’s the integrity in that?
Ai set to drunken Polari: Let’s stagger through it, ducky: The pair of them were sloshed and squatting in a pitch-black bona room. Old Cassandra was trussed up tighter than a nun’s stays—properly lashed, ducky. Susie’s got a rare trade for that caper, hasn’t she? Oh, Susie’s an edgy trade, a real wild screamer. Who gives a toss if Susie’s a bit bold? Go blow yourselves through a fence, you lot. Susie plonked her heavy bottom down, slumping right in front of poor bladdered Cassandra. Cassandra was completely trolleyed, slumped on the chair like a sack of spuds. Maybe she had a skinful too many? Who knows a bleeding thing? She should’ve been boggling and awake half an hour ago. Susie was clutching a gleaming bit of tin, thumbing the edge to see if it’d slice a loaf. After all, Cassandra’s gore wasn’t too bog standard; she’d done her shift. I reckon Susie’s pea-brain was doing the rounds over and over: Is it bona? Shall I cop it? She kept looking up at gormless Cassandra, then down at the chopper, up to Cassandra, down to the chopper, up to Cassandra, down to the chopper. She hasn’t the foggiest what she’s on about. But Cassandra’s been a proper pain in the earhole lately. Truth be told, Susie can’t stand the sight of her. Dot, dot, dot. The row is getting far too loud for a hanging hangover. She was copped with orders to do the deed. If she didn’t knife the… Read more »