Sex, Drugs and Depeche Mode

In the town of Clitorland, a forsaken wilderness in the northeast of The Omen Ica, not particularly interesting, but still quite entertaining events took place.

At least they were able to occupy the tiny brain of a certain person named Robert T. Morrow. Don't think, after hearing such a cumbersome pile of nicknames, that he was a wise old man. No way!

Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" - that's what his friends and family called him - was a typical pimply wanker of eight years old. It's only natural for such a kid that he loved nothing more than to pull the trigger on pretty girls.

And then he got a chance that no human could ever have imagined: Miss Scallop, a shabby forty-two-year-old mare from Whorecouver, Analda, had called that morning and told the boy that he and his drug-addicted brother were to take in a certain miss with an unpronounceable name who, as the old cunt said, was "penniless."

The boy was delighted with this news, because in his sperm-clogged brain, at these words, dirty little thoughts immediately arose about how such a poor and unhappy girl would praise Antichrist for the fact that two such nice people as Bobby and Ryan would provide her with food and shelter in their house, and at this time Bobby himself would secretly spy on this miss in the shower or bedroom, quietly jerking off to her defenseless body.

It didn't even occur to the boy that the unfamiliar miss could in fact be an old maid, just like Miss Scallop herself, but even if that were the case, then what, thought Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert", he would have to teach his unit to get up on old women!

Be that as it may, he was obliged to warn his elder brother of this event, and to this end the boy, who, having been awakened by Miss Scallop's call right in bed, was wearing only his pyjamas, did not waste time on his toilet, but immediately after the end of the conversation got out of bed and, putting his feet into cute slippers with bombs, stomped to his brother.

The latter's room was at the end of the corridor, but the boy could hear the molasses-sweet voice of Dave Gahan from Depeche Mode coming from behind the closed door:

"...I've ju-u-u-ust started walki-i-i-i-ing," he quietly and ingratiatingly drew out the stupid and naive text that his buddy Martin Gore had written in a couple of minutes between joyful gay sex and booze, "I've ju-u-u-u-ust started walki-i-i-i-ing..."

Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" couldn't care less about the song - he was too busy trying to get the message across to his wayward older brother. With that in mind, he walked right up to the door, grabbed the handle and pulled it toward him.

And as soon as he did this, the music that had been playing quietly until then suddenly exploded with cacophonous, eardrum-splitting synths, and Dave Gahan immediately stopped muttering to himself and, for no apparent reason, screamed like a cat that had been pulled by the balls:

"I've got someo-o-o-o-one who cares for me-e-e-e-e!!!" his voice cut into the boy's ears. "Someone who belie-e-e-eves in me-e-e-e-e!!!"

And when the boy's eyes opened to a small room in crimson tones, he immediately understood why Depeche Mode had suddenly changed so much - the thing is that the main attraction of the room he had just entered was a large double fuckdrome.

It was not without reason that we used this word: the fact is that Ryan, stripped to the waist, was lying flat on the bed, with a completely naked girl straddling his loins.

Little Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" didn't see her face, because his gaze immediately went down to her huge ass, the owner of which was smoothly swinging back and forth, causing her long black hair to amusingly slide up and down her back.

Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" didn't know what to think about this event - good manners ordered him to immediately turn away and slam the door, but bad manners ordered him to just stand and watch...

But just as the battle between these behavior patterns began in his head, his brother tore his lustful gaze away from his goddess's tits (which the boy couldn't see from the girl's back) and looked up at Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert."

Instead of shushing the boy or simply signaling him to leave, Ryan raised his left hand and spread his index and middle fingers in a gesture the boy had seen in Chinese porn cartoons.

Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" realized that his brother enjoyed being spied on, so he didn't go anywhere and even stepped forward a little.

At that moment, the lady in Eva's outfit slowly, as if in a slow-motion movie a la Goblin's "Shmatrix", turned her head back. The eyes of the boy and the naked beauty met.

Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" was willing to bet that he had never seen an uglier face in his life (except in horror movies). The ugliness was in the too-thin lips, which contrasted sharply with the girl's plump cheeks.

And when this beauty suddenly let out a scream, the boy's gaze was met with a not very pleasant picture - in this lady's mouth there were simply countless huge and sharp teeth, just some kind of vampire!

Of course, the girl screamed not because she realized her bastard, crocodile-like appearance, but only because during the fucking, a stranger burst in on her and her fucker.

She immediately began to climb down Ryan's pants-clad legs, not taking her eyes off Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" as he continued to stand there like a statue.

When she stepped barefoot onto the floor, her older brother smiled and said philosophically:

"It's just love, my gal, no need to piss yourself!"

However, his girlfriend's brain was already filled with fear; uttering some heart-rending screams, the girl grabbed a white shirt from the nightstand and began to put it on, all the while shaking her small breasts.

When the last ones disappeared under the white cloth, Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" realized that there was nothing more to look at, and, leaving his brother's bedroom, closed the door behind him.

"Well, Miss Scallop will scold!" concluded the little thinker, walking down the corridor to his room.

The boy didn't know what to do. He was sure that what he had just seen was dirty and vulgar, but he still couldn't get the huge ass and small tits of his older brother's girlfriend out of his head.

True, the memory of her ugly face was enough to make the blood rush from the bottom up, as happens during stress.

That's why Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" didn't throw himself on the bed to jerk the gun once or twice, but instead changed out of his pajamas into everyday clothes - because he knew that soon his older brother would come to him to explain why.

Well, for the fact that he, little asshole Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert", scared his goddess away during sex.

And indeed, as soon as the boy pulled on a red T-shirt with the Doors logo, the door to his room opened and Ryan came in.

However, there was no evil grimace on the older brother's face, but rather a cheerful and kind look.

"Don't piss yourself, brother," he began in a dashing voice, "my body isn't offended!"

"Hm-m..." the boy muttered incredulously.

"You're scared, aren't you?" Ryan asked him. "Don't worry about it, Molly just jumped out the window..."

"What do you mean?" Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" immediately perked up. "What do you mean, she jumped?"

"Oh, just like that, she just jumped," the older brother waved it off.

"And she, this same... Didn't hurt herself?" the boy drawled.

"Are you an idiot?" Ryan responded rhetorically. "Our house is one story!"

"A-a-a..." the boy mumbled, looking down.

"Ba-а-аh," Ryan mimicked his younger brother. "Nothing happened to my slut, got it? She's like a cat - nine lives, and ten more in her butt!"

During this constructive dialogue, Ryan never took his eyes off his little brother, shining with cunning. In addition, he did not stop twirling his thin, pianist-like fingers, as if he were playing with an invisible bunch of keys.

And all this was enough for Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" to understand that he wouldn't get a beating from his brother, but he would give him a whole barrel of explanations about his life.

And the boy was right: after the topic of the naked ass slut was finally exhausted, Ryan finally stopped twirling his fingers and sat down on the edge of his little brother's bed.

The latter took advantage of this to contribute to the conversation:

"Listen, Miss Scallop asked me to tell you something," he began boldly.

"Well, go ahead, give me the info," Ryan waved his hand lazily.

"So, here's the funny thing," the boy continued, "she asked us to take in some girl - either a relative or a friend, I don't understand," having said this, Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" spat on the floor.

"So what?" Ryan asked with a stupid face.

"Oh, nothing!" the boy kicked up a fuss. "I promised her a lot, that this and that, Ryan and I would do everything, we would accept the girl in the best possible way, but where the hell is she?"

"And what is the name of this protegee of Miss Scallop?" Ryan asked, picking his nose.

"Honestly, I didn't hear," Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" immediately calmed down, "either Whoreira or Vagineira."

"A-a-ah, that's it!" his older brother interrupted him. "So that's my slut Molly! Vieira is her last name."

"Oh, come on!" the boy was seriously surprised. "Like that loli who played in The Fourth Omen?"

"Well, yes, namesake," Ryan chuckled.

"Okay..." the boy said quietly, longingly remembering the ass covered in pink pants, on which he tirelessly came a year ago. "Well, how the hell did this Cunte... Oh, I mean Vieira," the boy corrected himself, "sneak into our hut like Hitman from Blair? I didn't hear or see her until I came to see you!"

"What's surprising?" Ryan shrugged. "She flew in through the window, the slut."

"How rude!" Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" said in a mocking tone. "But wait, if she came to see us, then why the hell did she fly back?"

"You'll understand these painted fools," the young man waved his hand. "Apparently, she shit herself from your pimples and decided to run away."

"What the fuck should I do now?" the boy blurted out with annoyance. "I swore to Miss Scallop that I would accept this bitch as my own sister!"

"Don't worry, bro, this fool of mine will come back," Ryan reassured him. "She'll calm down in the fresh air and come back like a normal person."

These words were very important for the little boy - because now he can honestly tell Miss Scallop that, one way or another, her protegee is in safe hands - if you can call a twenty-four-year-old worm who is constantly addicted to drugs and an eight-year-old wanker-swearer safe hands.

"Okie-dokie," said the boy, reaching for the phone.

"Who are you going to call?" Ryan asked him without interest, still sitting on the bed, rocking like a Chinese emperor.

"Yes, Miss Scallop, of course," muttered Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" and began to dial the number.

Ryan shook his head and looked up at the ceiling, his drug-soaked brain apparently projecting every conceivable and inconceivable image of fucking that bare-assed protegee of Miss Scallop onto its pristine surface.

At this time, the latter had already contacted her younger brother, who had not yet become a drug addict.

"Well, guys, is lady Vieira with you?" came from the receiver.

"Yes, yes, he's walking in the yard," the boy answered, trying not to burst out laughing.

"Very well," replied Miss Scallop. "When he has had his fill of walking, don't forget to treat him to dinner," she said in a tone as if she were talking about a dog rather than a person.

"No problemo!" blurted Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert", immediately standing at attention and putting his left hand to his temple - which was useless, since Miss Scallop couldn't see it.

"Ciao-cacao!" said the latter and hung up.

The boy followed her example and looked at his older brother, who had already risen from his bed and was pacing the room.

Noticing the boy looking at his naked torso with surprise, Ryan flexed his muscles and showed off his biceps.

"Do I look okay?" he said, winking.

"Like Iron Arnie!" the boy answered. "But why don't you put on a shirt!"

"I don't give a shit," Ryan said, stretching. "And you're probably surprised that I'm wearing pants?"

"Uh-uh, what?" Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" blinked.

"Oh, nothing!" his older brother mimicked him. "You saw that this slut crawled all over me naked, and I didn't fire my unit!"

"Well, I saw it," the boy admitted. "And why did you do it?"

"I don't know, bro," Ryan said. "I think my dick's dried up."

Upon hearing this phrase, Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" burst into laughter. More precisely, he began to cackle like a goose.

And his older brother, looking at him, launched into an explanation:

"You know, I've never liked girls. Not because I'm a faggot, but because it's not worth it. It's not worth it for anything, got it?" with these words, Ryan took a step towards the boy, who continued to laugh like a horse.

"Well, the same shit here," Ryan continued, lowering his voice almost to a whisper. "This whore climbed in on me, and word for word we started to talk like adults. She immediately threw everything off herself and pulled my shirt off. She wanted to take off my pants, too, but I didn't let her."

"What do you m-e-ean?" Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" drawled, stopping laughing like an idiot.

"In the be-e-eam!" Ryan mimicked him. "I was disgusted that someone else would be in charge of my dick!"

"Then why was she shaking her tits?" the boy asked him.

"Because she's a woman," Ryan snapped, opening the door.

"Wait, wait!" shouted Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert", running up to his brother and grabbing him by the sleeve. "Answer me, are all women like this..."

"Yes, they are all whores, every single one of them!" Ryan barked, turning his cramped face towards the boy. "And that's why I hate to play by their rules!"

Having shouted this, the young man tore out his sleeve and turned his whole body towards the boy.

"But at the same time, brother," he said in a calm voice again, "I'm not a faggot."

"Who then?" the boy was surprised, taking a small step back in surprise.

"Asexual, that's who!" Ryan replied, raising his finger to the ceiling.

"Who-who?" Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" didn't understand.

"Look in Wikipedo," Ryan muttered indistinctly, his hands in his pants pockets, already walking down the corridor to his room - the same one where a couple of minutes ago he was tumbling with the namesake of that bitch who was flashing her face in The Fourth Omen.

The boy watched him go, and suddenly the doorbell rang. Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" immediately realized that this must be Molly the slut - after all, who else could have come to visit them at this time!

With this thought in mind, he rushed headlong down the corridor towards the exit of the house. Opening the front door, he saw a girl in a yellow sleeveless dress standing in front of him on the threshold.

Tearing his lustful gaze away from the stranger's chest (which was quite miniature), he saw with horror the already familiar crocodile face.

The girl smiled at him with all her thirty-two teeth.

"Uh-uh-you're lady Vieira, aren't you?" the boy squeezed out, trying his best to sound polite.

"For you, it's just Molly," the girl answered with the same scary smile. "And what's your name?"

"Robert T. Morrow," Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert" replied, trying to look respectable.

"And Ryan just called you Bobby," the crocodile smiled even wider. "I don't mind if I call you that too!"

"Call me whatever you want, insatiable whore!" Bobby thought to himself, but said out loud:

"As you wish, miss. Oh yes," he remembered, "you're not angry with me for... Er..."

"I'm not angry, boy, now let me pass!" the girl said politely but firmly, stepping over the threshold at the same time.

"Well, well," thought Bobby "His-Name-Was-Robert," "one minute she screams when she sees me and jumps out the window, the next minute she chats with me with a big smile on her face. You know what these bitches are like," the boy concluded.