honeydew toxicity event

>mom comes in
>anon why are there one million mountain dew bottles
>mountain dew is a complete protein dont be a faggot mom
>dumb cunt looks at me like i just blew her fucking mind

Do you fuck your mom?
she’s a faggot and you’re a butt baby
AIDS baby
hydrofags ITT
water made my sister bipolar
Mountain Drew
Rapyed
Anon has a serious problem and we need to be sensitive. If you don’t get your hydration purely from pussy juice kys inshallah
__call it au jus the way you’re penciling roasties
____only walls homies getting are when he activates onetap

I wake up in the morning and just lay there looking at the Mountain Dew bottles sparkle in the sliver of sun that gets through my blinds, liquid green plastic glittering. I don’t really get fat so I can eat all the sugar I want. One time my friend dared me and I drank a bottle of maple syrup. Bubbles of nasty amber liquid stuck to my keyboard but I frag around it. When I was a kid I got into Dew with the limited edition Game Fuel (Mango Heat) flavor, the promo for Titanfall 2, good ass game until hackers raped it to death RIP.

I posted my pic one time as a joke and someone says I look like doomer boy/e-boy wojak and ask why I have so much Mountain Dew and I say why does your dad fuck you at night. My hair is getting in my face though which damages my gaming potential. But even with my headphones tight I’m not top fragging anymore, which I always do, enough for people to notice so I’m like haha I’m on vacation, playing on laptop trackpad. But it just gets worse, misclick, DPS diff, my friend Justin makes a joke like wow Overwatch has a really diverse playerbase they even let blind people play. I say I’m still on vacation sorry wageslaves :sunglasses: and I switch to support. My mom asks me what I’m playing because she doesn’t respect my privacy and streamsnipes my fucking life and I’ll be healing Justin so we can push obj and I’ll be like uh yeah that’s a cancer beam and I’m killing his ass.

I kept feeling weird but at my e-visit with my doctor I didn’t know how to explain that I’m suddenly bad at videogames, like she already gives me Adderall so there’s not much else she can do for that.

A few days later I wake up and there’s gross shit in my mouth and I spit it out. It looks like vegetables but I don’t eat those. I look closer and there’s leaves and petals in there. I look it up and it sounds kind of like pica but that’s a bitch disease for preggers. There’s a more masculine variant like Nebuchadnezzar II ate grass and thought he was an oxen so. Anyways, if you don’t remember doing something it basically didn’t happen.

Fucked up dreams. It’s like ants ants ants constantly touching me with antennae but it’s deep dream ants so they look like yugioh cards and weeb shit and sometimes real people. I’m greentexting my problem like haha wouldn’t that be crazy but no one has any advice for my fake problem that’s actually real

You’re either jerking off too much or not enough. What’s your coordinate on the Austerlin gradient?

has anon considered not drinking so much sody pop

I can think of another Sweet Dew incident that also involved a guy without balls.

watch out for ants bro lmao
>“We believe that ants could use the tranquillising chemicals in their footprints to maintain a populous ‘farm’ of aphids close their colony, to provide honeydew on tap. Ants have even been known to occasionally eat some of the aphids themselves, so subduing them in this way is obviously a great way to keep renewable honeydew and prey easily available.”
>”The ants have been known to bite the wings off the aphids in order to stop them from getting away and depriving the ants of one of their staple foods: the sugar-rich sticky honeydew which is excreted by aphids when they eat plants. Chemicals produced in the glands of ants can also sabotage the growth of aphid wings.

stunted aphidcels be dewposting

Maybe all this greentext is fucking up my brain. I need to get out of the house. I get my hoodie on and go past my mom passed out like usual and what do I see when I go outside? More green shit. It’s like people can’t get enough fucking grass or something. And big trees, totally unkempt, bark crumbling and sap oozing out, cathedral shit, you ever see how ugly a tree is? It’s like gargoyle skin cracked armor and flaky pancakes just sloughing off and there’s holes and knots and tree tumors, you see it everywhere, I don’t know why people have so many fucking trees in their fucking lawns or spilling out the back of their yards, you even go to the strip mall and there’s a tree all chained up with a collar tight around its neck or those metal plates locking their trunks super tight around the base I can’t breathe under this hoodie I pull it off and I’m going to get a sunburn but fuck if I’m getting shade from something with that many leaves, so thick and close together, sun pushing you up close to the big knots of sap all glistening and gooey, you can’t trust it.

I get dizzy and maybe blackout or something. I see Miku and her big fat green hair waving around and normally I’d be down but the way it moves is very upsetting to me, like big hairy antennae and she’s probing my face and I’m like stop it and her huge bug eyes just stare at me and I’m spitting at her trying to get the hair out and I wake up on the grass and a cat was licking me. I get to a park restroom and wash my face off to prevent toxoplasmosis a bipolar female disease I definitely don’t need, and the water touches my lips and I think, maybe I should be drinking water and not just Mountain Dew all the time. So I bend over the sink like a water fountain but it tastes like shit and I spit it out. I picked a bad day to start drinking water. And they probably put the nastiest most disgusting water in park restrooms specifically. I go home and crack open one of my mom’s SmartWaters and that tastes awful too so I dump it out.

I go back to my room and can finally breathe again. Going outside was a fucking mistake. I put on the Saints Row: The Third soundtrack and try to make my brain shut the fuck up. I pop an addy and autoplay a bunch of stuff on Youtube and a 2000s commercials compilation comes up and I remember the ones I loved as a kid like the World of Warcraft Mountain Dew ad where two milfs are in a supermarket and one pulls a SWORD FROM HER CART and the other turns into a BIG MUSCLY ORC and the other one turns into the PURPLE ELF who is PURPLE LIKE WIDOWMAKER ALSO BY BLIZZARD WHAT THE FUCK and they’re basically naked in the supermarket and fucking it up but my favorite was the Mountain Dew Transformation Commercial (2005) so fucking hilarious I love the effect they have for the car changing exploding all over the place and snapping back again, I could watch it explode for hours. Then the guy points the car remote at his friend and the other guy grows long hair and tits then his jeans roll up super tight into a cutoff denim skirt and his head SPASMS like some Jacobs Ladder shit (the inspiration for Silent Hill btw dope game) and he’s a girl and her generic shitty drink snaps into a Dew and she’s like how about a Dew and I’m chugging as I watch it, green and sweet and sugary and green and

I’m so sweaty and so hot I actually go to take a shower but I get this bad feeling as the water is shooting up the pipes and I’m standing there naked and I put up my hands but it’s too late the water hits me and I’m in fucking shock I’m tripping over shit and I land on the floor and I’m just shuddering with mammalian gag reflex or whatever, trying to wipe the water off me with a towel. I keep wiping but for some reason I can’t get it all and that’s when I see green on the towel, I’m dripping, I think I’ve got Dew ass, one of those crazy things you read about from drinking too much Mountain Dew. I need to put something else in my body so I order Papa Johns but I’m only able to drink three of the extra garlic sauce cups. I just can’t get into the pizza, especially after I eat all the pineapple toppings and it’s just greasy cheese left. I ask my mom if she wants my leftover pizza and she says why would I want your leftover pizza that you ate the toppings off like a bird. I say I don’t know mom and go back to my room.

The next week is hard, really hard, I’m sleeping a lot and burning up and finally I’m so fucking dirty and sweaty I wait for my mom to go to Hobby Lobby and I go into the shower but I don’t turn the water on, I have a two liter of Mountain Dew and I unscrew it, almost dropping the whole thing, feel so shaky with all this sugar in my system, I don’t think I’ve eaten much this week except Apple Jacks with Dew instead of milk, but I even switched to healthy cereal (Kix) but my heart is still pounding all the time. I manage to lift the bottle and pour it on me and it gets in my hair and I get that mammalian gag reflex again like AHHHH HHH AHHHHH HHHHH and I can’t see and it’s pouring sticky down my body getting in my pubic hair and between my toes and I have to sit down and it’s wet on my ass but I’m finally able to wash my body and I keep scrubbing with my mom’s loofah and listen to it gurgle down the drain and my body finally starts cooling down and each time I squeeze the loofah out I lick the sticky drippings off my lips.

I get out and turn on the shower to rinse it out so my mom won’t yell at me then I go to sleep and if I have dreams I don’t remember them. I think I’m finally getting a grip. I haven’t used my computer for at least twenty minutes. I’m Kaczynski out here. I’m zen. I’m enlightened. I’m top lane with perfect CS. I have a tarp on my floor that I sleep on so my blankets don’t stick to my skin and get it all linty. It crinkles a lot when I move so I don’t move, except to eat more cereal out of the bag and some of my mom’s Luna bars which actually taste pretty fucking good and drink my Dew and fall asleep again. I think I have that paradoxical ADHD thing where caffeine and sugar is actually good for you and helps you fall asleep and be normal.

Blacking out a lot. I think it’s a special kind of supersleep that probably is more nutritional and healthy for you. I feel like a perfect machine, like an alien bug that can just power off and on like a computer. I stockpiled enough Dew to stay in my bedroom for awhile. It’s the perfect system because I piss exactly as much as I drink into the bottles which become empty because I drank them. It’s perfect cosmic fucking Egyptian balance, fucking Greek philosopher shit. I know what you’re thinking but this is a cool experiment and it’ll be a lot of laughs and everything will be normal soon. I have an ironic perspective and I’m capable of seeing the situation realistically so I’m going to just ride this out until I have enough energy and can find some water that isn’t all fucked like the water in our pipes. But my mom keeps delaying the process by banging on the door and fucking up my concentration, talking about her plants being missing and I need to set out poison for the rabbits or whatever. The sugar is itching all over and flies are everywhere so I decide (free will) to man up and deal with this shit so I watch some Peterson until my brain feels normal and I take a couple Addys and go to the backyard and spray myself down and the water as expected looks tastes smells like shit but I do it super fast and I’m freaking out and I forgot a towel so I wipe it off with my shirt, walking around going HOOWA HOOWA and my mom’s plants look garbage, all torn up and the orange tree is wrinkled, ridged, makes you want to run your hair hand across it, all the cracks and peeling, I kick it, so angry for some reason, and tear off as much bark as I can. Rotten oranges squish under my toes, flies jump from the moldy peel onto my feet and I kick them off but they keep nipping on my ankles. My ADHD is driving me fucking insane.

I go back inside and my skin is irritated from having high fructose corn syrup on it for so long which doctors never talk about for some reason but at least I’m clean now. This’ll be a crazy story to tell people, the worst is when you don’t have anything to post about, just sit there thinking of anything to say at all so you can just have a post out there that people can see, so I think ultimately my relationship with the internet is healthy and social. I go back on the green and completely castigate the latest tranny to show her pedo ass and all my favorite streamers are online like I never left.

I do a bunch of life things like go to the grocery and 7/11 and apply for some jobs and think about electives and research the splitsecond developments in the crypto pipeline just so I can tell my mom something when she bugs me and I line up some Widowmaker anal and life is good, you know? I’m eating healthier, I’m trying Gatorade, Sprite, even Coke and Pepsi like some kind of PETA vegan health freak. I go to sleep before midnight, watching Widowmaker’s rubbery purple pussy stretch around a huge dong. I don’t know if it’s intentional but the way they make the video I can imagine that it’s my own penis. I try to jerk off but I fall asleep. Her long legs move back and forth like they do when you’re spectating a Widow, high heel bug movements, and sometimes that nice curl when she grapples away and tucks her body in and pops up, that nice little leap before you fall down to the spot you grappled to, I practiced headshotting like that for so long I don’t know what changed but in my dream it’s headshot headshot headshot over and over again, the nice headshot sound like in Overwatch 2 the only good thing they did besides switching it to 5v5 like it should have been originally. Shaking back and forth waggling my rifle and scoping in and crouching tight and watching the meter charge up and blowing out the brains of the perfectly arranged shooting gallery of minorities on the enemy team, all the countries of the world and all the Pixar special ed forced inclusion blablabla first bipolar Italian faggot drop my spider mine and listen to it hiss and pop behind me so I grapple away again but I miss and I fall down and I keep panic shooting but my rifle is like jello and I’m out of ammo and

I wake up and my boxers are sticky and I’m freaking out. It feels like a wet dream but it’s everywhere. I stand up and look inside and there’s this green stuff pooling around my balls. I calm down and take a few breaths and I pull my boxers off and that’s when I feel it tugging on my body hair, in my head I hear my mom complaining to her hugbox womblet friends about how much it hurts getting waxed. I almost get one leg out but there’s a strand or something sticking to my ass like deep in there. I stand still, thinking what to do next, and it oozes down like a big rope of syrup and clings to the back of my leg.

I’m in my room 24/7 again listening to Pinkerton on repeat keeping the problem under control like I’m Leo DiCaprio in that movie where he plays Elon and invents the perfect plane the globalists don’t want him to have because it can go on water. I keep the bottles under my bed but there’s too many and they’re everywhere now. When you see a 2L bottle of Mountain Dew full of something that came from your ass, it changes a guy. I don’t know how to explain the crazy of seeing the sun shine through my toxic green anal secretions in the morning.

I start posting again. I feel a little more sane every time I see that arrow pointing to the right of each sentence making it the perfect color. I do some pickup games to help me get back into male socialization and at some point I joke enough times about feeling like I’m going to fucking KMS if I don’t drink Mountain Dew every second of the day and we take it to Discord and it’s like yeah this is an issue people deal and struggle with. Justin, the guy I heal for, he’s a good listener, we’ve been chatting for awhile now so I feel like I can tell him shit. Apparently the group I play with has a place over in Hayward where they do esports training and talk about serious issues like this like real nofap purification fix your life Greco-Roman get that bread shit.

He says internet contagion shit like this happens a lot and goes over different mental illness and personality quizzes with me and we talk about the soda thing again and he asks me if I love sugar because that’s one of the symptoms of one of these things. I cry as I type, i love sugar, PMSing hard. I need to get out of this house because I think my mom’s estrogen is affecting me like an environmental pollutant, probably in most things I touch. I shouldn’t have eaten those Luna bars during that bad week. I try to remember how many Luna bars I ate and I start panicking. But as I pack my shit, I start to feel calmer. I know what the problem is and I’m getting out.

The house is kind of in the hills in a shady part with lots of trees. I drop my backpack and shake hands with Justin, realizing this is the first time I’ve actually hung out with these guys IRL. I can see I got sweat on his hand but he doesn’t say anything about it. I see the other guys on the team and even some girls, some 7s and 7.5s which has me feeling like, okay maybe these guys are legit, even though I think one of them is a trap. He shows me around the property and there’s some real nice trees with lots of bark and I touch them and get sap on my fingers so I ask where the bathroom is. He says sure, right down the hall, and goes back to playing Smash in the living room with the others all chugging Mountain Dew and Sprite.

I stare at the faucet and my body is burning up. I want to clean my hand because it’s so sticky and so sweaty but just the touch of the faucet handle is cold like radioactive ice. Then I laugh to myself because I’m psyching myself out and I turn on the sink and splash my hand.

I trip out of the bathroom and try to say something about how the water is bad, maybe you need your water checked? Justin is saying, hey, calm down, what’s up, you need anything?

I say, Mountain fucking Dew, please and thank you.

He brings me a can and snaps the lid for me and I feel so grateful. I’m shaking so hard I cut my lip on the sharp metal edge and spill blood and Mountain Dew down my chin dripping on my hoodie. Fuck, I say, looking down so my face almost disappears into the hoodie, feeling shrunken down and wrecked. He brings me a bandaid but I can’t figure out how to put a bandaid on my mouth so I just sit there and bleed, crying a little.

He says, what’s going on, man? He wears a hoodie like me so maybe he gets it, maybe I can explain things to him. But his hair is brown and kinda long and maybe he’s just a stoner or into some kind of music I don’t know about but I say, you’re not a boymoder are you? He says, I don’t think so. I say, you’re not one of them, right? I can see he’s getting a weird look so I say, just kidding, haha, and he laughs too. I say gimme a min and I’ll be out.

*

I’m laying on the bathroom floor because the tile is cool and it’s too hot out there with the carpet and the sunny windows. I spilled the Dew can. I can’t get up. I watch the flies get stuck in it and the ants come and then the door opens and Justin is like shit, you’re still in here?

I say something but I don’t think it comes out super clear. The trail of ants is hard to look away from.

Hey, I got you, he says, holding a bottle of Dew to my lips, plastic so it doesn’t cut me, I suck on it and I could start crying all over again. He supports my head with his hand and helps me drink the whole 20oz bottle. My stomach hurts, this swollen bump visible even under my hoodie, too heavy to move, I can’t remember the last time I pissed, I think I have a kidney infection. People are talking around me and I wonder if they’re asking if they should call the hospital and I say I’m not on insurance. They look down and their hair falls on my face, it itches and I turn my head away and my face gets stuck in the Dew I spilled and its black with flies and ants now and I’m coughing and spitting and I try to get up and I fall over and bang my head on the tile. They’re crowding me and it’s embarrassing and if they’d just leave me alone I’d be fine. I just need to use the fucking bathroom, I say. Get the fuck, get the. Get.

I pass out from the pain and don’t come back for what feels like a long time. I have a lot of sleep to catch up on, I was trying Uberman but I think I fucked it up and wasn’t actually sleeping during my naps so it hits me hard. I dream about Widowmaker but her skin is green and she’s crawling all over me. I always thought she’d taste like Playdo but what comes out is acid and it burns and I try to get away and I wake up and there’s dirt everywhere and it’s night. I was walking in my sleep and I’m like thank you god that I did not run into traffic although that would be an iconic post. I try to figure out where I am. I feel drunk. I need to apologize to those guys for passing out earlier and acting bipolar. My stomach still hurts so it’s hard to move. I touch my belly and it’s so tender I almost start crying again. I feel like I might actually break something inside if I get up, it’s like a balloon full of soda about to explode except the balloon is my skin. I try crawling and my belly drags on the dirt. The rest of me is so skinny it feels like my stomach is going to break off, I’m panting like crazy.

I realize I’m naked, not even any underwear, and I start getting really scared. I reach out to see if I can find my hoodie or my phone and a loud noise scares me, plastic bottles scattering at my touch. I roll onto my side and look for the moon or the stars or even a single light pole but there’s nothing. If there’s dirt I must have walked into the woods or the hills, but no moon or city lights means I walked really far. I start panicking thinking about those news stories about people who didn’t respect nature and went for a hike and fucking died. I just want to see my favorite streamers and check my sites and refresh my feed, all that simple stupid stuff you take for granted. I just want to know people are alive in the world and something is going on somewhere. I’d even settle for some crickets but I can’t hear a single bug, which is really scary. Maybe I fell in an old mining pit, those places no one can hear you and they never find you and you die. I put my arms over my face and try to breathe but it’s really hard. Please fucking help me, okay? The kind of thing you say even if you never say it. Please fucking help me.

You need to drink something. I remember that. You can live without food for weeks but you need liquids or you die. I’ll take even some dirty puddle water, I don’t care. I remember the bottles and start touching them, seeing if they have anything inside, old soda or rainwater. I roll away the empties so I won’t keep checking the same ones but soon I’m holding the last one and trying not to panic. I sniff it even though that won’t change anything, it just feels like the only thing I can do to get a single familiar detail in this darkness.

Mountain Dew.

Something creaks like a tree and my heart jumps. If there’s a tree I’m not in a mining shaft or quarry. I walked here and I can walk back. I just need to shit and I’ll be able to walk and I’ll find some water, even if I have to suck the dewdrops off the grass, I’ll get back and I’ll be alive. I roll back onto my stomach, groaning, and push hard on my fragging arm, weighted mouse, I can do this. I’m almost on my feet when the worst pain I ever experienced stabs through my abdomen and I fall down, getting dirt in my mouth, I cough it out, fuck.

The creaking gets louder, scarier, then I see light. I think someone has a flashlight up on that hill so I say hey, all dehydrated and raspy. Hey. Help me. Please.

Justin comes over and he isn’t holding a flashlight. The light is still up on the hill. It’s a doorway at the top of the stairs. He puts his hand on my belly and I can feel every finger and every line of his palm, that’s how raw and tender I am, scraped from dragging it on the dirt, bursting inside.

Hhhlp, I say.

The others are here too, hair hanging over me again, eyes pitch black and shiny. I try to crawl away but each inch is agony, I think I’m actually going to die.

Justin says, hey, dude. You’re good. Don’t worry about it. His voice is the same steady voice as the callouts he’d do ingame and it’s hard not to listen. His girlfriend is holding my face up and her hair is long and smells nice and sweet like flowers and candy. Then she moves and I can see one of the other girls has her phone out and is watching something, a movie about aliens, found footage, shaky light on dirt, then I realize the green-stained guy on the ground is me, my hair encrusted with Dew and only one eye visible wide open and there’s so much soda staining me that multiple generations of ants and flies are dead in the slimy crust. I’m surrounded by bottles and my dick hangs all shriveled up and dirty and my stomach is pushed out and I see Justin’s arm enter the screen stroking my back so lightly that the little hairs on my tailbone stand up. Their hair and fingers are all around me and it feels like ASMRfag shivers and my knees dig into the dirt and my feet knock into bottles and scatter them as my ass tilts up, sweat dripping and pooling in the pits behind my knees.

Honeydew time, the girl (trap) says, still filming, so I keep my head down so my hair covers my face so I won’t become a meme. Give me my phone, I say, face burning up so angry I can’t breathe. Give me my fucking phone. But then something sloshes inside me and my face grinds into the dirt and all I can do is moan and cry as something syrupy squirts from my hole, oozing out slow and painful, no relief, big sticky green ropes hanging so heavy from my ass it feels like my asshole is going to tear off, sticking to my balls and foreskin and hanging between my thighs.

I start crawling toward the stairs, saying every slur I can think of, telling them I called the cops even though I can’t remember the last time I had my phone, but the more I move the more it shoots out of me, sticky on my calves and feet. I can feel way too much of my hole like a breathing throbbing purple tube, tingling and weird and nauseating, but I get my hand on the first step and it hurts but I’m able to haul myself up, belly smacking onto the wood, catching splinters as I drag it up another step, arms numb, legs shaking.

Justin puts a 2L bottle of Dew on the step. You’ll feel a lot better if you just get used to it, he says. We can help you. His hand rests on my tailbone and I immediately feel like I need to piss or shit, I gasp and clench myself back there, face sweating, eyes like they’re going to pop out of my head.

Stop doing that, I say. You fucking faggot.

Shut the fuck up, Clyde, you fucking faggot, he says, and my name isn’t Clyde, I don’t get it, but everyone laughs and I feel their hair as they come closer, that long female hair with the nice shampoo and the thick doomer hair in tangles and curls, sweeping and jangling and bouncing, setting off tingles just under the base of my spine like crazy fucking schizo brain commands, I try to go up another step but slide back down, landing hard on my ribs in the dirt. I lay there twitching from the pain, cramping so hard it feels like knives stuck in my gut.

He puts the bottle of Dew to my mouth and as he tips it, I feel the light plastic become heavy as each ounce flows from the back to the front, swelling above me, the tip pushed so deep into my mouth I can feel the Dew cool through the plastic against my lips. I bite down and push my tongue against it but I can’t bite through the plastic or plug it up and it fills my mouth and my cheeks puff out so I try to swallow and get a few gulps down but it doesn’t stop and I start choking and it shoots up through my nose and bursts from the sides of my mouth all over my face into my eyes blinding me and it flows back into my nose where there’s already Dew pouring from. He keeps the bottle in my mouth, heavy as a liquid rock, until all two liters have passed through my throat or spurted through my sinuses back into my mouth again and I taste the mucus and snot sticky in my teeth and salty in the back of my throat and I keep coughing it up but gravity sucks it back down until I can’t gag anymore, just a wet suctioning sound down my throat. I hear rattling echoing sounds all around, it must be from my bony legs and arms thrashing at the bottles, but everything is far away except the sugary fluid slurping and spitting through the holes in my face and splashing into my stomach, I never felt it that full before, I can feel it filling all the way to the top and bubbling up like acid reflux, sugar reflux, but more keeps splashing down and when air belches up and I’m able to suck a tiny breath through my burning sinuses it smells like stomach acid and corn syrup.

Calm now, like the calm you get after vomiting, clammy and used up feeling. I lay there as the Dew cools on my face, eyes still stuck shut. I feel little tickles which must have been explorer ants because soon they’re crawling up my legs and across my face but I don’t even move. If I move it hurts. I feel the pressure building just behind my hole but the sugary slime is so thick and slow it’s dried to a plug, blocking me up. My guts are like a kinked up hose full of syrup, backed up to my stomach, the only thing I can see when I open my eyes, that swollen skin that wasn’t meant to stretch that far, disproportionate to the rest of my body, stretch marks like a fucking cow.

The only thing that helps is when they come down and tickle me with their hair and rub their fingers and toes on me and in me, disgusting tingles that make my teeth hurt and my bones itch until the tingles travel to my stomach and the syrup plug loosens, dissolving enough for my guts to start spurting into whatever plastic container they’re holding out. APHID BOY GAMER SYRUP someone says, and Justin looks at me with his shiny black eyes and his hair stiff and clicking and he tells me how much it helps the team, they even made championships, and he promises to tell me about the big plays and if they win or not, but he knows they will, and he touches the very bottom of my back again and I feel my hole inflate as a big cable of syrup shoots out. It feels like a nightmare how much can fit in there, every time I think it’s finally over his fingers brush that little patch of light hair at the base of my spine and my ass spits like a squirt gun, hips aching, so intense my lips tear through the mask of dried soda on my face, skin stuck from corn syrup so there’s a little blood, the only flavor I ever taste besides sugar and citrus, and my eyes pulse and try to open but they’re too weak so they just roll back under the lids, and I gag through the sugary blood and try to say the few words I have time to say before the bottle stuffs my mouth. Each time I try to remember what words I said before so I can say different words that might work this time. But their hands just stroke my belly as it swells up again.

that they shall drive thee from men, and thy dwelling shall be with the beasts of the field, and they shall make thee to eat grass as oxen, and they shall wet thee with the dew of heaven

14 grubs honk mournfully on the topic of “honeydew toxicity event

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