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Ducky’s Inner Demons

January 21, 2014

Petrie flew in as fast as he could.

“What happened to Ducky?” he asked with much worry and tribulation fears.

“She’s not waking up!” cried Littlefoot sadly, nuzzling the comatose corpse of the hadrosaur little girl they call the Ducky.

“Is she dead?” asked Cera very frightened.

“No, she’s in a coma, she is still alive” reassured Ruby.

“So she’s going to be alright, right?” asked Chomper.

“Maybe. Or maybe she will never wake up.”

Ducky’s friends sorrounded her slumbering self, nuzzling her back to life in whatever ways they could.


Ducky awakens in a strange place. Grass and tress exist all over there, but it is dark and foggy, and queer eldritch noises fill the air.

“Oh no no no, I got into the Mysterious Beyond!” cried the little Saurolophus.

“Into the Mysterious Beyond, eh?” said an evil and fell voice that filled the air, “Your memory is most defective, little whore! Do you not remember this fog?”

“You mean the fog from the Mysterious Beyond I once ventured with my friends to recuperate immensively precious flower of nocturnal estivation interruption in order to provide ailment for the grand progenitor of the minisculopodus?” said Ducky with much wisdom in her ovaries.

“GRRRRR, just you await you little wrench!” said the voice, before disappearing into the mysts.

Ducky got a very bad gut feeling in her bile, so she hastened her pace, venturing through the fog. Eventually, she came across a strange stone in the ground, picturing a sunburst emerging from the clouds and filled with eldritch script characters Ducky could not read.

“Beautiful grave, is it not? A grave YOU put me in!”

“I never killed anyone no no no!” said Dukcy repetitioned and scaredely with much fright in her adrenalin glands.

“Yes you DID!”

And so, out of the mysts, came her most detestful and frightful bane that had tormented in her mind.

“Judith Barsi!?”

“Elementary, my dear Ducky” said the evil prepubescent euarchontan menace of woe, “This is the fruit of your hateful ambitions! I was going to be a great actress, but no, you had to possess my father and kill me! And for what, to be a shadow of OUR former self!? You stole my life, you stole my voice, you stole my SOUL, and all for NOTHING! GIVE IT ALL BACK!”

“Fat chance you little skank! You’re evil and selfish and you hate everyone! You made Don Bluth’s, your parents’ and everyone’s lives a living hell!”

“YOUR WILL PAY FOR YOUR SINS!” and the demonic sexuality little girl snaps and attacks Ducky!

Ducky gasps, the Judith hands strangulate her trachea, blocking her air passage and blood flow. Ducky’s eyes bulge like a mutant goldfish smashed by uncleansed fungi sticky shit feet of swamp madness, clawing at the aether itself for oxygen and coolness for the lungs! Ducky must defeat this fiendish blonde devil actress woman or else she can say goodbye to her bodily functions and endothermic stability, so she kicks viciously with her hands and feet. Her fat rotund foot ungals hit the Judith girl of hatred in her solar plexus, exaperating her breath. Ducky takes this moment to respirate and then to kick Barsi in the face with all her ardour, destroying her mandible and dislodging all her dentary.

As Judith coughs her own blood into the grass, Ducky runs, she seeks shelter in the shadows. But suddenly the trees grab her with their branches.

“Stupid shitty little dinosaur, do you really think you stand a chance against me? This is our mind, I control it to my whims!”

“Well, if OUR mind it is…”

And so the branches release Ducky and punch Judith in all directions, utterly wrecking her ribcage, smashing her face with violent strikes, dislodging all her incivors and most of her molars. Her eyes are first black, then destroyed in a shower of blood and vitreous humor. Another branch is completly filled by thorns, and hits her right in the uterous, making her give birth to a torrent of BLOOD that completly obliterates her hymen.

“You shall return to your grave FOREVER!” cackles the Ducky with madness wishes.

But Judith thrusts her hands into the earth, and a massive chainsaw crocodile bites into the Ducky torso! The rapidly cutting blades slice through her abdomen like butter, rupturing her intestines and provoking forth a shower of putrid black poop that falls on Judith’s face, infecting her exposed flesh with most vile maggots and worms that instantly begin to gnaw through her face, exposing the pure white bone underneath and subjecting the rest to extensive necrosis.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHH YOU SHITTY GIRL YOU HAVE MADE MY FACE INTO ELEPHANT EXCREMENT COMPOST YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS!!!” cries the Judith as beettle larvae enter through her empty orbits and begin to masticate her brain.

They feed on the hypothalamus, destroying her memories of potty training so she shits violently a fetid swamp diarrhea river, then unsavoury bitter black blood, then her own guts. The maggots then devour the Broca area, making her forget how to speak and think, so she is now a dead vegetable zombie who slowly bleeds until inevitable over taxing by blood and oxygen loss, killing her off for good and sending her blonde ass to Hell.

“Thank you Ducky, your services are most worthy of recompensation!” says Lucifer from the orange light portal that formed where Judith used to be.

He then french kisses the hadrosaur, his luminous light bearing radiance of UV radiation filling her mouth with tumourous tissue that quickly evolve into morbid teratomas of fetid intestinal palisades, oozing necrotic pus and most rotten excrement. Soon, the severed Ducky upper body is nothing more than a series of tumours organs and fecal matter, and she too dies and goes to Hell, where she is raped forever by Ahuizotls.


“Yep, she is dead” says Ruby.

The whole Great Valley mourns the loss of their jovial, most imaculately virginal little iguanodontian ornithopod friend, and then dump her corpse in the garbage.

2 Comments leave one →
  1. January 23, 2014 2:26 am

    What the hell is with your writing, dude? The weird word usage was kind of funny at first, but now it’s somehow simultaneously annoying and disturbing. And the stories themselves are reminiscent of a really bad drug trip. Is this intentional? Are you experiencing a bad trip?

    • January 23, 2014 11:09 am

      Bad trips are so overated when one’s creative impulses lie dormant like bubbles on the frying pan of amicability and simplicity’s sake.

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