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dasolution-ns · 4 years

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Going Down Hill

A Katie Hill slam fic by Da Solution

I was at a secret location in California where I was meeting with Kenny Heslep. He wanted to see me so that I can straighten out a terrible situation he was in. As you can probably tell by now if you have been following the news, the situation is that nasty, ugly bi-slut bitch named Katie Hill. She was found out about her illicit affairs with two staffers, but vehemently denies one of them, and then the two-faced hypocritical organization, known as the Democratic party, kicked her switchblade-ass out.

Here we were, sitting in a dimly-lit room not unlike those interrogation rooms that you see in movies and television. His face showed a combination of anger and hesitation. He knew as long as that swing set was on this earth, he will be nothing more than a humiliation. That’s why he came to me.

He was totally exasperated when he said, “I don’t know how those photos got leaked out. I thought we had our computers secure.” Actually I do. A few members of my crew, Team Solution, were paid by a right-wing group to hack their computer. It worked and we were able to get those photos of their shameful throuple threesome. However, he was totally clueless that we were behind it. The group paid us for the photos, and now he will pay us for her elimination. That’s what I call a win-win situation!

“Well, Kenny, that’s what you get for marrying a bi-slut. Trust me, those flaky-ass people are not worth it.”

He shook his head in rightful shame and said, “Oh boy, what the fuck did I just do?” He paused for a bit before continuing. “So are you gonna help me out?”

“Of course, you know my motto: If it’s a bi, then it must die!” Kenny said nothing. He simply smiled.

“Now tell me where she lives. Plus tell me where that other bi-slut bitch and that ugly ass dude she was secretly seeing live as well.”

Kenny thought for a moment before speaking again. “Knowing her, and knowing how much of a promiscuous bitch that she is, all three of them are the place right now, getting busy.”

To say that I was surprised was an understatement. “You mean as in now-now?”

“Yep, as in now-now.”

“Then I must get there now, I got no time to lose.”

Me and two members of Team Solution arrived at the place. I couldn’t bring the full crew because of time. The opportunity to finish that bitch off was so appealling, I was grinning from ear to ear.

I was able to easily break in the apartment, regardless of her having Ring, because Ring ain’t worth shit. It was a two-story apartment room, with a huge living room. This was a splendid apartment, one that couldn’t be covered by a congressman’s salary. Yeah, I said it, she’s crooked. While we hacked into the computer, we got financial records of her kickbacks, bribes, etc. As I was in the place, I heard some noises. It sounded like moaning and bed squeaks. I knew exactly where it was coming from.

As I got to the bedroom, I was going to bust the door down, but instead I decided to gently open the door and surprise the shit out of those sick-ass swing sets. When I got into the bedroom, my eyes were about to pop out in disgust. As Kenny predicted, all three of those fools were there. Katie, along with her fat, ugly, nasty snatch, Morgan Desjardins, and her ugly-ass boyfriend, Graham Kelly. He’s the one she denies having an affair with. Well, we all know now that’s some grade-A bullshit! And speaking of shit, they were in an anal-licking threesome act! Disgusting! These poly-promiscuous perverts are some nasty-ass deviants! It made me wanna hurl. It was bad enough that I had to see all three of them naked! About as disgusting as seeing Hope Solo’s loose lips! When they saw me, they were scared shit!

“Oh no, it’s you!” Katie peeped out.

“You god damn right!” I said in a menacing tone. It scared those horny bastards even more.

Her pussy pal, Morgan, let out a blood-curdling scream. “AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Then the fat, bloated, bi-slut, bitch started to cry, so I gave her the John McEnroe Special, a left-handed backhanded slap across the face.

“SHUT DA FUCK UP, BITCH!” That rug-muncher cried even more. Then another one of the losers was crying, but it wasn’t Katie…

“Bhahahahmmmm” cried a pathetic Graham. His goofy-looking ass was crying like the beta-cuck-bitch he is, so I treated him like a bitch, and gave him the John McEnroe Special as well. But I wasn’t done with his punk-ass yet. I then punched Graham in the face, sent him flying to the wall. He was now unconscious. Now I can focus on those cherries-and-bananas-eating bitches.

First I quickly punch that pig Katie right at her fish-and-sausage lips of hers. Then I kick that fat-slob, bi-slut bitch Morgan in the stomach. She went down in pain. That gave me time to grab something in my duffle bag. I grabbed a rock, then I turned and looked at those two bi-slut bitches with pure malice.

“So you two like to rock the three colours, correct?” The three colours I referring to is the bisexual flag.

“We rock it with pride!” said a proud and stupid Katie. That just brought a big smile on my face.

“Well I’m glad that you do, because I rock those who rock the three colours – with The Rock!” I pulled out The Rock and proceed to layeth the smacketh down on Morgan and Katie with it, just like what I did to that pedo-fag Afrika Bambaataa, right in their ugly faces. That’s what they get for rocking the three colours. Next I found a pendulum on the dresser. How fitting… I then proceed to smack the shit outta them with it.

“How do you two bi-sluts like that type of swinging?” I said following with a laugh, while they cried. The more they cried, the more I laughed. Then I noticed that Katie’s back was near the closet door, so I quickly speared her through the door and right into the closet, where she and her finger-friend belongs.

Eventually however, Graham became conscious again. As soon as I saw Graham getting up, I quickly gave him a side kick to the chest and he flew back to the wall. He was hurt and was crying in pain like the beta-bitch he is. Just to get him out of the way, I pulled out my Glock 17 9mm semi-automatic pistol and aimed it right at his chest. I pulled the trigger three times and he was no more. The two fence-jumpers were screaming in fear. It was going to be a foreshadowing of things to come for those two losers.

Now, the bedroom was a mess, with blood all over the place. I had to get out of there, so I brought those two flakes with me, while grabbing their throats. I saw the stairs, and was about to throw them down there, but something came in my mind. I grabbed a nearby glass vase and threw it down the stairs. Then I went ahead and put my foot up Katie’s flat, white, bi-slut ass, and she started tumbling down the stairs, screaming in agony with pieces of broken glass on her. Then I did the same with Morgan, putting my foot up her cellulite-infected chunky fat white ass.

While they were tumbling, I was giggling my ass off. What was the surprise part was that I almost had all of my foot up their asses, literally! Those nasty bi-slut bitches are so slutty and so whorish that their assholes are almost as wide as the Grand Canyon!

As they were lying on the floor with blood and tears, I came downstairs and dragged those bitches by the hair. I dragged them to the dining room. As soon as I got there, Katie opened her nasty mouth.

“You mother fucker! You despicable human being! You hateful bigot! I hope you burn in hell. I hope you…”

My response was simple. I faked a yawn. “Yawn… Tell me something I don’t know.”

She immediately shut up, knowing that her insults have no effect on me. I was near the dining room table, so I proceed to do my favourite activity, slamming those people through tables. I picked Katie up and power-bombed her nasty stank ass through the table. Then I picked Morgan up and showed her that my bi-bashing is different from the others, as I bashed her head against the wall, making a huge dent in the drywall.

After I was done, I knew now it was time to bring out The Solution. The Solution is a modified cricket-bat with a titanium core that has crossed-out flags of the gays and lesbians on one side, and a crossed-out flags of the bisexuals and transgenders on the other side. As soon as they saw it, they were shaking in fear and I was smiling in joy. I first started with Morgan, hitting her with bat’s Bisexual/Transgender side, aka the Bi-Slut/Transmutant side.

“This is for being a fat-bloated bi-slut bitch! CRACK!”

“And this is for eating Katie’s nasty snatch! CRACK!”

“And this is for being a French bi-slut! Fuck the French mother-fuckers! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!”

Then it was that disgraceful congresswoman in disgrace’s turn.

“This is for being a corrupt, shameless bi-slut bitch! CRACK!”

“And this is for being from California! CRACK!”

“And this is for being a fence-jumping, pendulum-swinging, three-colours-rocking, purple-loving, swing-set bi-slut bitch! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!”

Katie was beyond hurt at this point, so I didn’t have to worry about retaliation if I insulted her, but I did it anyway!

“No one’s going to save your nasty ass! Not your husband, not your pussy pal, not even Kyrsten Sinema bi-slut ass! Not Barney Frank’s pedo-fag ass, not Hiliary Clinton, and defiantly not the DNC.”

At this point they were bloody and battered, now it was time to finally cure them of their bisexuality: a bullet to the head.

I first pointed the gun at Morgan’s head. She still had enough energy to scream. “AAAAHHHH – POW!”

I didn’t let her finish her scream, but I didn’t want to deal with a headache. “Now you will finally shut da fuck up.” She was lying there, dead with eyes wide open. It was Katie’s turn to scream.

“NO! NO! NOOOOOOOO!” She was getting hysterical and I was getting fed up with her annoying shit, so I punched the fuck outta her face, which I did multiple times, repeating a statement to her.

“FUCK – YOU – BI-SLUT, FUCK – YOU – BI-SLUT!”

Then I pulled her up by her hair only and pinned her against the wall. I had my Glock 17 right near her forehead. I saw the fear and surrender in her eyes. I was quite pleased to see her at that state.

“Well, flaky-floozy, your term on this Earth is about to come to an end now. But look at the bright side, I’m about to cure you of your bi-sluttiness!”

My left hand pulled the trigger, and the bullet went in and out of her head. She was no more.

There was one more thing I had to do. I pulled out an electric branding iron from my bag and heated it up. As soon as it was hot enough, I burned the words “BI-SLUT” on both Kate and Morgan’s forhead. Then I went up to where Graham was lying and burned “BETA BITCH” on his forehead.

After that, I was no more, as I slipped out of the apartment. While I was hiding, I saw the cops finally arrived at the building. I asked Mario, one of my crew members, to hand me the mini-rocket launcher. He did and I used it to blow up the group of police cars. Several police officers were killed, but hey, I wanted to go out with a bang!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A few days later at a home in Arizona, I paid a visit to someone. After I knocked, I hid. The a middle-aged blonde woman came out. I quickly got out of my hiding spot and grabbed her why having my Glock 17 to her head.

“Well, hello there Kyrsten Sinema, it’s time that I straighten you out.” Her response was quite simple.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

THE MOTHER FUCKING END!

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dasolution-ns · 4 years

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The Bamboozlement of Afrika Bambaataa

An Afrika Bambaataa slam fic by Da Solution

Written back in 2016, but stopped for reasons.

I remember when I was in South Bronx the other day, planning a transaction with the Reyes Seis (Six Kings), who were buying my meth. My shit is better than punk-ass Walter White’s, because I got Jesse Pinkman cooking for me and he improved it since Walter Wimps’s death. Now how did I pull that off? That’s for me to know and for you to be shocked :-D. After the deal was over, one of their crew came up to me when no one was paying attention. He asked to speak privately, so we went to some run-down office, where you see cockroaches running around. To say the least, I wanted to get out of there. I can’t stand cockroaches.

Finally, when knew that no one would be listening, he said, “Hey, I heard that you can straighten out any situations.”

I was naturally suspicious, so I replied with a menacing voice, “I sure can, what do you want?”

I saw that he got nervous quickly. This is not good if you are a member of a gang. You can NEVER show any signs of weakness. “Can we talk privately?”

“Sure.” He didn’t say anything for a while, as he was being nervous, so I had to get him to open up. “Well, mother-fucker, spit it out!”

“Okay, I know you’re familiar with this cat, because I heard that he is quite popular with the Community, but he done a lot of fucked-up shit, yet the Community turns a blind eye on it.”

There are quite a few dude like that in The Community, unfortunately. “Okay. What bad things this sorry-ass dude has done?”

“He likes young men and he fucks them, whether or not they consented. The reason I know is because when I was 14, he came an’ visit my brotha. Him and my brutha used to be cool like that, so he came often. However, one day when he came to my crib an’ chilled wit’ me and my brutha, my brutha hadta leave since he had to take care of some business, so he left with me an’ the guy alone. Afterwards, the guy just came up to me and started kissin’ an’ shit!”

“WHAT!” I blurted out. “Damn, this mutha-fucka’s crazy!”

“Yeah he was, but people still like him. I tried to fight back, but I was only 14 and he was like 22, so I had no chance. Then he told me that he would break my neck if we don’t go to my bedroom. From there on, he took off my clothes and fucked me there.” Tears were coming down his eyes as he was telling me this. I can’t help but to feel bad for the dude. He didn’t deserved to be raped by that faggot-ass faggot. However, I can’t have him crying like a bitch. “Afterwards, he did the same thing for like a few more times until I turned 16, when him and my brother had a beef. I told him about it, and he was gonna cap his ass, but on the day my brotha was gonna kill him, he got killed himself.”

He would continue to cry more, but I had to tell him to stop it. “Yo, stop cryin’ like a bitch. I know what he did was fucked up, but you a man now, not a punk, and only punks and faggots cry.” I know he was hurting, but he got to be a man about it.

He dried his eyes and he said, “You right. I gotta be a man about it.” He huffed a bit before continuing. “I brought this up to the Community, but they turned a blind eye on it. Man, I don’t know how yo’ community works, but it’s fucked up, yo. So I brought it up to my community, and they said no, cuz he cool wit’ them.”

Well, that proves that his community is just as bad as mine. The guy who told me this was not really part of the Community I was in, since he was a Latino. He didn’t say the pedo-perv’s name, but I already figured out who it was. With the wrinkles and good amount of grey hair he had, the guy looked like he was around 54 or 55, so I assumed this happened around 1979 or 1980. He’s not that much younger than I am.

“Well, I was hopin’ since you tight wit’ yo’ community, you might be able to talk sense into them. A few in my community started to see the light.”

However, I had to tell him the truth. “Possible, but right now my standing within the Community is on shaky grounds. So who is this guy?” I was pretty sure I knew who it was, but I wanted to be 100% correct.

He said, “Afrika Bambaataa”. My blood immediately boiled. I was expecting him to be it, but it still made my blood boil.

“Son of a bitch! That mutha-fuckin’ pedo-fag deserves to die!”

“Yeah, and I think he hasn’t stopped at all.” He said.

I was now furious. I knew about his shit for a very long time, but the only reason why I haven’t gotten to him is because of the stupid Community. It’s the same community that allowed pedo-predator R. Kelly to still walk on the streets. Don’t worry R. Kelly, I will come and kill your illiterate ass one day!

And I bet that you might be asking, “why do I care about getting The Community’s approval so much?” Well that’s because the Community protected me back in the early and mid 90s, when I just got started hunting those people down. I was based in New York for a while. Plus, I did bring up Afrika’s sick ways to the Community before, but they flat-out ignored me. “I have heard stories about him and his faggotry escapades. I brought it up once, but the Community threatened to get the FBI on me if I dare go after Afrika.”

He shook his head in shame, as he has every right to do so. “Your community is slippin’, homes.”

“Tell me about it. It’s been like that since those people started to influence the Community. The Community resisted for a while before they eventually caved it. Even since then, it’s been downhill from there, and gentrification and interracial marriages to white people didn’t help matters either.”

Then someone knocked while shouting through the door, “Hey, we still got some shit to take care of!”

“We’ll talk later.” I told him. He nodded and we continued on with the business.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I couldn’t sleep much last night, thinking about what the guy told me and that Afrika is still out there, making little boys and young male teens suck on his Tootsie Roll. I had to straighten him out, once and for all, with or without the Community’s approval. Little did I know my date with the Community will come sooner than I thought, or even wanted.

The next day, as I was planning to make a move on that pedo-fag, I got a phone call from my private cell. Only a few people got the number, and telemarketers wouldn’t dare to call me, after I paid a few visits to a few calling centres in India and other countries. After some pistol-whipping, chain-beating, and even a few bullets to the head, they got the message.

“Okay, who’s calling me, and how the fuck did ya get it?” The number was shown as, “private number”

“Hi, my name is Angie Booker, of the Community, and we want a word with you, brutha.”

Now I know how she got it. They’re one of a few people I give my number to. “Yeah, what da fuck y’all want?”

“It’s about Afrika Bambaataa. We will discuss more at the meeting tomorrow at 11:00 PM, if you care about us not reporting to the FBI about you.”

Goodness, I’m starting to regret depending on them during the early-90s. If I can go back in time, I would have never got myself involved with them. I would also not bought those $200 Reebok Pumps as well. “Fine, I’ll be there.”

“Good. Now we want to discuss…”

I simply told her “Bye, Felicia,” and hung up on her. I couldn’t deal with her bullshit. She sounded like a bulldyke as well. Her voice was deep and she was trying to sound like a man. I had a feeling that the meeting would be like an ambush of sorts, either physically, verbally, or both, so I had to prepare myself.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

At a undisclosed location in Harlem.

Here I was in a meeting with the Community, discussing the whole Afrika Bambaataa situation. There were at least around 40 people in the meeting, including myself. Angie was there, and just as I suspected, she was indeed an Ellen-wannabe bulldyke. Her hair was like of Amber Rose, with a man’s T-shirt, along with men’s skinny-ass jeans. I really HATE men’s skinny-fit jeans. Only bitches and faggots wear that shit. And there were many of her type in that bullshit meeting. Those people have infiltrated the Community and made it the joke that it is today. Bringing in their philosophy of “tolerance” and acceptance of their nastiness. That’s why gentrification happened, because those people who became part of the Community wanted it to happen. They wanted it to happen because those stupid millennial white morons are okay with their nasty-ass deviant shit. And plus those people are into that latte/coffee shit as well, just like those stupid-ass millennial morons.

The room has like a conference-room-meets-ghetto-decoration aesthetics to it. It tried to look sophisticated and elegant, but failed hard. I would have expected since they had a lot of those people in the group, that some had to be interior decorators, and that the area would look better. I was at one end of the table, arms folded, while Angie was at the other end. Pretty much everyone who paid a major role in the Community was there, among a few others.

“We got word that you were planning to get rid of Afrika Bambaataa, even though you were told specifically not to kill him. Why are you planning to negate on our deal?”

“Because the deal has no value anymore. The people who I signed the deal with were more respectable than the ones who run the Community now.” I said with a smirk. Judging by the expressions on their face, they didn’t like my response. “Plus, it seems to me that there are more cases of Afrika’s involvement with males below the consenting age. People like them should be terminated from this earth.”

I saw the sour look on Angie’s face when I said that. Her response was as shocking as it was weak. “That person who you want ‘terminated’ is also the one who helped make our community what it is today. His Zulu Nation is relevant to the Community”

I was shocked to hear that. I quickly got up from my seat and shouted, “Relevant? Relevant??? Bitch, are you for real!? That negro and his Doo Doo Nation hasn’t been relevant to this community since 1985!”

“Which is more recent than you, because you have never been relevant to this community. You have used us as a way to fuel your murderous agenda again people or groups you don’t like, such as Scientologists, Vampires, Werewolves, the countries of France, Greece and Israel, and of course, the LGBTQ+ community. And because of that, we have decided to turn down your wish to pursue Afrika Bambaataa.”

Now I was beyond furious, as I slammed my hands down the table and told them off right there. “That’s why the Community is in shambles right now! You protect those who are not worth protecting, like OJ Simpson or R. Kelly. I mean, why the fuck did you stand behind OJ, when it was clear that he murdered that white bitch? And look what happened after he got acquitted. That dumb mother-fucker still got his ass sent to jail for something stupid, and did he ever paid his thanks for the Community for supporting him during the trial? Fuck no! That Oreo-cookie sellout went back to fucking white women. He never had the Community’s back.” But I wasn’t done there. “And what about Bill Cosby? He was a rapist, but you still back that goofy, hypocritical mother fucker? Did you mother fuckers ignored the fact that he stuck his chocolate pudding-pop into many white women? And don’t get me started with bitch-ass R. Kelly…”

“And yet they have not caused as much destruction and embarrassment to the Community as you have. Plus, you was once married to a white woman, who you end up killing!”

I wasn’t angry that she brought that up. It’s true, and I have no regrets over it. “The bitch deserved it after cheating on me.”

I saw a big smirk on her face when she said, “Yeah, cheating you with a…”

I had enough, so I was about to run up to her and smash that hairball-coughing bulldyke’s face on the table, but then she and a few other pulled out their guns. Oh shit.

“We had a feeling that you would act violently towards us, so we came prepared.”

As I looked around I saw nothing but a bunch of bitches pointing their guns at me like they think they’re hard. Little did they know that I too had surprise. I pulled my phone and sent a text. A minute later, we heard some noises from the outside.

“What is going on?” Angie asked.

“Open the door and find out, you dyke-ass bitch mother-fucker.” I responded. Someone opened the door and when they got out, they were shocked to see over forty people well armed with a Sig Sauer MCX. Some refer to it as the Black Mamba. I like to called it The Pulse. Why? That’s for me to know and for you to find out. 😀

“Who are these armed people?” Someone asked.

I was able to answer that question easily. “They are Team Solution. My group.” There was a immediate shock throughout the entire room. “They have fought against various drug-lords armies, militia, and even the US armed forces.” The people in the Community saw the stone-cold faces of my crew, and some started to put away their weapons. Then I told them, “as far as I’m concerned, the meeting is over.” I slowly got out of my seat and walked towards the door. “Now if you excuse me, I got some business to take care off.”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

After doing some talking around the neighbourhood, I got word that Afrika has a strong preference for Latino boys, and that he goes to a lot of Latino gay bars and pool halls to pick the up. By coincidence, he happened to be at a pool hall owned by the Reyes Seis. Through them, I was able to track where he was going. He headed to a nearby hotel with a young Latino. I followed him there, all the way to the room they were staying in. Now, I had to find a way to get in. Luckily, it didn’t take much effort. I spotted the cleaning lady and told her the situation. Being part of the Latin Community, she knew who Afrika was and wanted to help get the boy out as well. So, she knocked on the door, saying “Room Service,” even though the Do Not Disturb sign was hanging on the doorknob.

He quickly opened the door with just enough crack to see his face.

“Ma’am, can’t you see that… POW!”

I connected him with my left first to his face. He staggered to the floor. I then barged into the room. I looked at the woman and told her, “Don’t say a word,” in Spanish. She quickly nodded and left. Now it was me and him along with the young male.

He was on the floor with a bloodied nose. I pulled out my Glock 17 and pointing it right to his head. I wanted to cure him right then and there, but I also wanted to teach him a lesson. When his head was finally out of the clouds, he looked at me and said, “OH SHIT, IT’S YOU!”

“Fuck yeah, it’s me, you pedo-faggot-ass-bitch. I came here to finally fuck yo’ pedo-faggot ass up!”

About a minute later, a young Latino boy appeared. He was shirtless. I looked at him and told him, “Listen, put on your shirt and get the fuck out. You don’t want to be here.” He looked at me puzzled. Then I realized that he doesn’t speak English. So I told him the same thing in Spanish, and he immediately left. With him out of the way, now it’s time for me to straighten out the situation.

“What makes yo’ bigot-ass think you diff’rent from tha rest of tha homophobic gay-bashers out there?” Afrika said to me in a very accusing tone.

I didn’t take it too personally. I saw it as a badge of honour. I looked at him and smiled. “I’m glad you asked.”

I quickly grab the pedo-fag by the neck and showed him my version of gay-bashing, which is to bash his head into the wall. While I was bashing his head against the wall, I was shouting at him in a rhythmical pattern.

“FUCK-YOU-FAG-GOT! FUCK-YOU-FAG-GOT!”

Then I took him to the other side of the room and bashed his head in, telling him something different but in the same rhythmical pattern.

“DIE-YOU-FAG-GOT! DIE-YOU-FAG-GOT!”

Then I gave him a few body shots with my fist and he crumpled down, but I was far from over.

“I was just warming up. I’m not done with your sorry faggot-ass. I’m gonna have fun torturing your pathetic pedo-fag ass. But first, music!” So I pulled out my burner phone and played, you guess it, Afrika Bambaataa’s “Planet Rock” Then I took a rock, named The Rock, out of my bag and gripped it tightly.

“What the fuck, bruh? I thought you only used it for those who rock the three colours (Bisexual flag).”

He’s telling the truth. “I do, but I’ll make an exception here.”

So I proceed to bash his head with The Rock, laying the smackdown on his pedo-fag, candy ass. He was screaming and hollering for me to stop, but I didn’t listen. He was in pain, but I didn’t give a shit.

“Stop it please! Stop it! Please, stop it!”

But my response was simple, as I took a few words from his song.

“We gotta rock it, don’t stop it. We gotta rock it, don’t stop!“

After I was done with rocking that jabroni’s noggins out, I grabbed some salt from my bag and threw it on his wounded face, causing more pain. He was screaming and I was smiling. Next, I picked up that fool and slammed him right through the living room table. Now his back was broken and he was in serious pain.

“I’m gonna make you suffer for raping all those boys, you dirty dick-sucking, fudge-packing faggot!” Now his back was in more pain and was pleading me to stop, but I punched him in the face and told him to, “shut da fuck up!”

I dragged that bitch to the stove. It was gas, so that was even better. I turned it on and put his face right on there, burning the shit out of it. Now he was in real pain, but the pain wasn’t gonna end there, as I was going to introduce him to the only bisexual I’ve ever liked, The Solution. It’s a modified cricket-bat with a titanium core, designed to put those people like Afrika in their place. It has two sides, on one side it has the crossed out flags for fags and dykes, and on the other it has the crossed-out flags for bi-sluts and transmutants. I switched it to the fags and dykes side, since he’s a pedo-faggot-ass faggot, and beat him with it.

“This is for being irrelevant since 1985, CRACK!” “And this is for falsely claiming to invent the word ‘hip-hop’. Bullshit! Others been saying that long before you have! CRACK!” “And this if for being a one-hit wonder loser. And no, ‘Looking for the Perfect Beat’ doesn’t count! CRACK! CRACK!” “And this is for being a dick-sucking, fudge-packing, rainbow-flag-waving, pedo-fag! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!”

There was one more thing for me to do before I finished him off. I went to the duffle bag and grabbed me my electric branding iron. I heated it up and then proceed to burned the words “PEDO-FAG” on Afrika’s forehead. I took a picture of it with my phone.

“Guess what? No one can save your gay-ass now, faggot. Not the Soulsonic Force, not Mr. Biggs, not Pow Wow, not G.L.O.B.E., not DJ Jazzy Jay, not Cosmic Force. Not Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five, not Kurtis Blow, not Egyptian Lover, not Twilight 22, not Cybertron, not Cameo, not even the Sugarhill Gang, and defiantly not Tommy Boy Records!”

Now it was time to cure him. Got out my Glock 17 and put it right on his temple.

“It’s time for you to be cured, faggot.”

So I pulled the trigger and that was the end of him, but the story doesn’t end there. I still had to deal with one other group, the Community.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The next day, we gathered 11 of the Community members that were degenerates, including that Raging Bulldagger herself, Angie. They were tied up and blindfolded, rendering them helpless. We drove them to an undisclosed location in upstate New Jersey. Once we got there, we took off their blindfolds, but they were still tied up. It was at an abandoned warehouse, miles away from any type of civilization. Perfect to do our biding.

We tortured the fuck outta them for a good three hours. That included electrocuting, foot roasting, and even waterboarding for the fish-taco-eaters of the group. Then when we got sick and tired of torturing them, we lined them up against the wall with our CXC armed.

“It’s time to get your Pulses out and waste these degenerates!”

Then Angie said, “You’re making a big mistake.”

Immediately, I went up to her and punched her in the face and said, “Shut da fuck up, you dyke-ass bitch!” Then I said to her. “The only mistake I made is not bringing the Raging Bulldagger with me.” Now you might say what’s the Raging Bulldagger? It’s a bulldagger I use on those bulldykes. It comes with rubies and one side and sapphire on the other.

After that, I moved away and commanded, “Fire!”

Bullets were spraying like a fire hose. I think at least a hundred rounds were used in the execution, but there were about as holed as Swiss cheese. I finally took out the bad blood in the Community. However, the beef between me and Community wasn’t over. In fact, it just got started.

The End?

#afrika bambaataa #da solution #slam fic #slam fiction #fan fic #fan fiction #rpf #rpf fanfic #the solution #the rock #pedo-fag #gay bashing #homophobia #torture #death #celebrity fan fic #celebrity fan fiction

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dasolution-ns · 4 years

Text

A Wrecking Mess

Part of the Hell Down Under series by Da Solution

A Miley Cyrus slam fic

Here I am somewhere in the outbacks, probably a few kilometres away from Newcastle, New South Wales, where I heard that Miley Cyrus was here. She seem to have a thing for Aussies. I don’t know why, they’re a bunch of tossing assholes, besides the Aborigines. Being the daughter of a redneck country singer, and the total whoring bi-slut that she is, she needs to be straightened out and that’s why I’m here.

I brought my wife, Maxine Brewer, former member of D.E.B.S, with me since she wanted to get involved more and she also hates Miley with a passion. She also wanted to get to visit Australia again, saying that if Lucy Diamond, her arch-nemesis during her days of D.E.B.S, hates Australia, then it’s good for her. I hate Pussy Sapphire, I mean Lucy Diamond myself, enough to kill her and her partner off.

It wasn’t too hard, but I spotted her at a retreat in the outbacks. Expectedly, it was guarded. Unexpectedly, it wasn’t heavily guarded. I was surprised that someone as famous as she was would have such a skeleton crew for security, but no complaints, that just made my job easier :-D. Thus, I would not require Team Solution for this, me and Maxine should be good enough.

The place was a small, but inside was luxurious. I think it was an attempt for her to get “in touch with nature” and “in touch with herself.” All that is really bullshit, because those people like Miley are so out of touch, they can never be like the common man, and she’s a bi-slut, so she’ll always be confused. However, I bet that bi-slut bitch sure loves to touch herself…

As we were casing the area and planning our strategy to take out the guards, I saw Miley with her new sucker, I mean lover, Cody Simpson. They just came outside to sit and chill on their porch. Don’t worry, they’ll have an eternal chill when we get done with them.

“Look at that idiot. Grinning like he struck gold.” Maxine whispered. I chuckled, couldn’t laugh out loudly.

“Yeah, more like fool’s good.” I said. “The only thing that fool struck is some STD!” Now it was Maxine’s turn to laugh. After we laugh, I told Maxine, “we got to find a way to get in there. There isn’t a lot of guards here, so we should be able to take them out one by one. Just get your knife ready, so we don’t make any noise.”

However, Maxine disagreed. “Nah, I ain’t takin’ that chance. I say bring the other three who are nearby. Just in case if one of the guards do call backup.”

“Good point.” So I text to my main man, Steelz. He told me that backup was coming.

When backup arrived, we went ahead with the plan. I was able to take out three of the guards, while Maxine was able to take out two.

We were able to enter the retreat without any problems, because the retreat’s security ain’t worth shit, and it worth even less shit since all the guards are dead. However, as soon as we got in, we couldn’t find them.

“Where the fuck did they go?” Maxine said.

“I dunno.” I replied. However, it didn’t take long as Rico and Rachel came back with Cody and Miley with them.

“Hey boss, we saw these two running about 200 metres from here, we caught them.” Rico said.

I smiled at Rico. “That for getting them. I knew you were the right guy for the job.” Rico just smiled and said his thanks. They left, and that left us with those two losers. I was pissed at them.

“Thinking you can run away from me like that, huh? Well, imma fuck your bi-slut ass up like what I did to Katie Hill and Afrika Bambaataa, Miley. And that goes for you as well, Cody.”

Cody stepped up to me and said, “I bet you aren’t as tough as you think you are. I’ll take you on. Just me and you. No one else. Neither Miley nor your woman can pitch in. Besides, you only got a few minutes, I already called the police.”

That made me furious. Maxine already knew what to do in that situation, and she text Team Solution for backup.

Cody Simpson wanted to take me on one-on-one, which I find weird considering he was trying to run away from me. Nevertheless, I had no problems with that. That’s how I prefer it. He’s brave, but stupid.

“Sure.” I simply answered.

Before he could even move his shoulder, I punched him right in the face. Then I gave him a few ribs shots followed by a stunning left jab across the face. He was down, but not out. At the same time, Maxine was beating the shit outta that bi-slut bitch Miley.

When I got to Miley, she was already bloodied and beating. My woman did a number on that flaky, attention-seeking whoring bitch!

“Good job, honey. Now let me take over. Go and watch for the cops, I think Team Solution might need your help.”

She smiled. “Sure.”

Now it’s my turn to have fun with Miley. I noticed a glassed cabinet with her trophies and statues she have won. There were those of lesser prestigious awards, as the main ones are back in her home. The cabinet was locked, but I knew a way to get it to open… I smashed her face against the glass, and it shattered all over the place. I then proceed to grab every trophy, statue, plaque, whatever I can get my hands on in the cabinet and hit her with it.

I was about to do more to that sick-ass swing-set, Maxine came back. “There’s like 24 cop cars out there, and they’re planning to bring the ADF against you, since you’re consider a domestic terrorist. Oh shit, the Australian Defence Force is now involved, now we really need to get the fuck outta here! It’s one thing to bring in the cops, it’s another to bring in the armed forces!

With that in mind, I took out my gun and shot Cody a few times with my Glock 17. We made sure that Miley saw it by keeping her eyes wide open. Needless to say, she was devastated, and we were elated. We took Miley with us and narrowly escaped. That was a close call.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

A few hours later, we were at an abandoned building in Sydney, New South Wales. I had Miley’s hands tied behind her, with her mouth covered up. She can be a mouthy bitch as that swing-set kept on bitching throughout the rid, so I had to shut her up. She also fought along the way, so Maxine gave her a punch to the stomach, and that worked, for she was much more cooperative after that.

We we got into a room. I had some of my “toys” out for me to use. It included The Rock, The Solution, and the Pinochet Machine, and a parrilla used for torturing. And those weren’t the only thing in the room.

“Kaitlynn Carter! What the fuck!?”

Yep, we kidnapped her ex Pussy-pal and fellow bi-slut bitch herself, Kaitlynn Carter. She too was tied up.

“You bloody biphobic bastards! You won’t get away with your gay, lesbian, and bi-bashing for long!” Kaitlynn screamed at me.

“Oh spare me with the drama, bi-slut bitch! You betta shut da fuck up before I do it myself.”

“No! I won’t ‘shut da fuck up!’ I will make my voice loud enough so that someone will hear me and save up. I will… SMASH!”

I hit her with The Rock, a slightly-larger hand-sized rock used to rock those who likes to rock the three colors (bisexual flag), like Ms. Bi-Slut Miley and Konfused Kaitlyn. Those rudy poo jabronis will get the smackdown of their lives.

I was smashing her with The Rock while telling her to shut da fuck up in a rhymatic pattern.

“SHUT-DA-FUCK-UP! SHUT-DA-FUCK-UP!”

Her face looked like a messed-up pizza ate by a drunk. Now it’s Miley’s turn to know her role with The Rock. With her, I did the same thing that I did with carpet-muncher Kaitlyn, however I changed the words.

“DIE-YOU-BI-SLUT! DIE-YOU-BI-SLUT!”

Her face too was a total mess, but then again, it always did.

“Now I can focus on giving you the Rock Bottom.”

So I took The Rock and slammed her to the ground with The Rock in her face. Now they know that my bi-bashing is quite different… and painful!

Now in order for the parrilla to work effectively, you got to “soften up” the victim, and there’s no other weapon that can soften victims any better than The Solution. The Solution is a modified cricket bat with a titanium core, perfect to straightening out those people. It has crossed-out flags of the gays and lesbians on one side, and crossed-out flags of bisexuals and transgenders on the other. It’s the only bi-slut I can tolerate, since it also “swings both ways.” So I introduced it first to Kaitlyn.

“This is for being an New Englander cunt! CRACK!” “And this is for eating Miley’s STD-infested pussy! CRACK! “And this is for being a bad actress. I saw your shit on that sorry-ass show, The Hills, and you suck horse’s dick among other things! CRACK!” “And this is for being a nasty, ugly, confused, bi-slut ho! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!”

Then I focused my attention to Miley.

“This is for being Billy Ray Cyrus’s daughter… CRACK!” “And this is for having your ugly face all over Disney… CRACK!” “And this is for showing your slutty, flat-as-an-ironboard body all over TV… CRACK! “And this is for your sorry-ass music! That’s right, your singing voice is as flat as your ass! CRACK!” “And of course, this is for being a nasty, poly-promiscuous, bi-slut bitch! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!”

After that, I smiled for they were now “soft” enough for the parrilla. I turned my attention to Maxine and asked her if the parrilla is ready, she nodded.

“I got the wires set up, and we do have enough juice to light up the block.”

“Good, I let you take care of Miley, while I take care of Kaitlynn.”

Maxine got excited. “Goodie! I get to torture Miley!” I couldn’t help but smile when I saw my wife’s excitement. I wanted to torture Miley, but I got to let my wife have some fun as well.

So we strapped the two beef-and-pork-eating bitches to the metal frame, strapped them tight and then attached the picana to their sensitive areas. In the case of both Miley and Kaitlynn, that would be their Hope-Solo-sized pussy lips, cause neither have boobs. The metal frame intensifies the shock, while burning their backs as well.

As soon as we powered up the picana, we tortured the shit out of those two pendulums. They were screaming for their deal lives.

“AAAHHHHHHH!” They said collectively. Now that’s music to my ears!

After two hours of so of torturing them, I decided I had enough, so there was one more thing left to do: cure them. As I was about to pull out my Glock 17, someone’s phone had Miley’s “Wrecking Ball” as their ring tune. Found out it was Miley’s. That gave me an idea.

Okay, there are two endings to this. I will show each of the ending and you decide which one is the best.

Ending #1

We went to another area of Sydney where they were destroying old buildings. There was a crane with a wrecking ball attached. I smiled when I saw it. I decided to attache Kaitlynn first, by welding metal pieces to her arms and legs onto the wrecking ball. Then when I had enough speed and acceleration from the wrecking ball, I moved it so that it can hit the building, crushing Kaitlynn in the process.

“NOOOOOOOOOOO!” Miley screamed as she watched her finger-friend crushed to death. It’s a bad day for her, as she watched two of her lovers die. It’s gonna get even worse for her because she’s next.

We attached her to the wrecking ball the same way we did for Kaitlynn. It didn’t help that blood and guts of Kaitlynn were still on the ball when we welded her onto it.

Afterwards, as I did with Kaitlynn, I got the wrecking ball swing fast enough so that when it did hit the building, she would die from it. As soon as I can, I aimed it to the building and Miley got flattened like an accordion. Funny enough, music from an accordion is more pleasing than her own.

Ending #2

The same building and the same crane as Example #1, however, this time Miley and Kaitlynn are attached to the building. They are about 5 metres apart. The building had already been partially wrecked, but there was about a 20 metre long wall of it remaining. That’s where we tied them up. I was gonna go and use the wrecking ball on them, but instead Maxine insisted that she does it. I smiled and let her take control.

She started from the edge of the wall, knocking it down, first from the left side, then from the right side. The wrecking ball was slowly creeping up to the degenerates as it kept on knocking out brick from the edged of the remaining wall. They were getting terrified as the wrecking ball was slowly coming to them. Maxine was torturing them and I liked it!

Eventually, the wall withered down to just 12 metres, and the bi-slut duo knew the end was coming for them. Maxine had the wrecking ball first aimed at Kaitlynn and she was smashed by it. Miley screamed in horror as she saw her smashed to pieces. However, we shouted in pleasure, as we finally got rid of Kaitlynn. Now it was Miley’s turn as Maxine aimed the wrecking ball right as Miley. She was done that instant.

Conclusion

Miley is dead, along with her ex and her stupid-ass boyfriend. All in all, me and Maxine are satisfied, and we took a short trip to a sparse area where they have the beach. Everything was fine, until we saw two Australian gay dudes holding hands. Without a hitch, I got out of my lounge chair and headed towards those two faggots. Looks like another situation to straighten out…

THE WRECKING END!

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dasolution-ns · 4 years

Text

Bye Bi, All You Black Bi-Slut Bitches!

A Janelle Monáe and Tessa Thompson slam fic. Along with Azealia Banks by Da Solution

I was still in New York, even after what I did to that battyboy, Afrika Bambaataa two weeks ago. There has been huge arguments over whether or not I did the right thing. This issue has actually divided the community. A lot of the younger generation, especially the moronic millennials were against what I did. While the older generation were happy that I put an end to a predator. Too bad the older generation is dying out.

While I was planning my next big move in NYC, which was to blow up the new Scientology building in now gentrified Bedford–Stuyvesant neighbourhood of Brooklyn, a women wanted to see me. Scientology is total science fiction bullshit and I’m doing Xenu’s bidding by getting rid of it.

“There’s a woman wanted to see you.” Rico said. He’s one of my workers, better known as Team Solution. She was a short, caramel-skinned woman who was in the mid-40s. I knew her very well.

“Hey Rachelle, whacha doin’ here, girl?” I said after I gave her a friendly hug. Rachelle is one of the members of The Community. She’s kind of like a spy for me, for she tells me all the goings in The Community.

“I came to tell ya sumthing extremely important.” In that instant, my face turned into serious.

“Okay, you got my ear. Tell me.”

“Well, I just came from another Community meeting and thing got really heated. Two women that you are probably familiar with, Janelle Monae and Tess Thompson are trying to gather several people in The Community to take you down. Not only are they planning to do this with us, but they are also speaking to other community leaders in gettin’ rid of y’all.” The “y’all” she’s referring to is me and Team Solution.

Now I was very angry. I knew Janelle was a total weirdo, but I didn’t know her as vindictive, and Tessa to be her lapdog, but then again, she has no problem lapping Tessa’s STD-infested pussy.

“You mean that weird-ass bi-slut bitch and her no-talented bi-slut pussy-pal wants me gone?”

“Yep. They said that The Community can only advance once you are out of the way.”

I was very pissed about it, but not surprised. After all, there are several members of the Community still upset over what I did to Afrika Bambaataa, and that includes Janelle and Tessa.

“Well, too bad for them that their wish ain’t gonna be granted. However, my wish to eliminate those two bi-slut bitches will be definitely granted.” Then I offered her a handshake. “Thanks for telling me about it.”

“No problem. I just don’t like what The Community had turned into.”

“Neither do I, but I plan to change all that, starting right now…”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I got word that Janelle and Tessa were staying at the Waldorf-Astoria in Manhattan. It won’t be easy to get in, since they beefed up their security after the last time I was there. Let’s just say that I taught a couple The Facts of Life…

To get in this time, I had to be in a very convincing disguise. I found one that looked like a young Latino. Then through connections, I was able to get the Waldorf-Astoria’s current season’s uniform for a bell hopper, and also a master key card that can open any doors in the hotel. With these two together, those rich, bougie, white, elitist mother-fuckers won’t be able to tell if I’m a real employee or not.

Also through connections I was able to find out where those two bi-slut whores were located. Through my card, I was able to get to the floor where their suite was. Then I got in their room and saw the two watching that bullshit reality TV show, Love Island.

They didn’t notice me until when the commercials came on.

“Excuse me, are you room service? You should have at least knock before entering. Besides, where our fish tacos?”

“I ain’t got no fish tacos for you fish-eating female faggots. What I got instead is The Solution for your two black bi-slut’s asses!”

I quickly took off my masks and showed them a menacing face.

“Alright you two Fish-Fingers, you know why I’m here. To straighten out you two, by any means necessary!”

“AAAAAHHHHH! IT’S YOU!” Janae screamed.

“NOOOOOO!” Tessa lamented. I just smiled.

“Oh yeah, it’s me you nasty stank-ass bi-slut hos!” Then I quickly went over and punch the shit outta Tessa first, knocking out a few teeth in the process. Then I went after Janelle and gave her two solid lefts to the face. That made them whoozy.

“I’m here to straighten you two out. The situation is that you tried to get The Community to fully turn on me after the Afrika Bambaataa incident, correct?”

“Yeah, you queerphobic mother-fucker! Assholes like you don’t belong in The Community. Fuck it, Imma be 100 with ya and say that hateful, homophobic mother-fuckers like you don’t belong on this earth.” Janelle said.

“Yeah, all you do is fuck up everything you touch. You an embarrassment to the Community. A lot more so than Afrika Bambaataa! All you dumb-ass ever do is go travelling aroun’ tha world and killing people that you don’t like. Me and Janelle are gonna put a stop to this like right now.”

She tried to call on her cell, but found out that there are no signals.

“What tha fuck!” She frustratingly shouted! “This shit wuz workin’ like 10 minutes ago an’ shit!”

“Yeah, my phone aint workin’ either! And this is the lastest Apple iPhone model!” Janelle replied. I just smiled and told them why it wasn’t working.

“That’s because I jammed the signal here.” Due to my electrical engineering background and my work in the cell phone during the early years of the technology, I knew how to jam the signal. “So there ain’t no way you can call the cops or help.”

Then Janelle tried the room phone and the same thing happened.

“Oh yeah, I also jammed the phone there too, even though it’s a landline.” Most landline phones in hotels are computerized, and you can manipulate the machine to do what you want with it. “So now, you two gate-swinging asses belong to me now.”

So I quickly grabbed those two AC/DC bitches and slam their heads together. Then I proceed to take Tessa’s head and bashed it against the bed post a few times, telling his this:

“DIE-YOU-BI-SLUT! DIE-YOU-BI-SLUT!”

Then I followed up by bashing her head into a vase, letting her know what bi-bashing is really all about.

Then I took Janelle and smashed her head against the TV, which got her electrocuted a bit. She now knows that bi-bashing can be quite shocking as well. After that, I too Janelle’s fish-smelling fingers and introduce it to a hammer; each and every one of her fingers. She was screaming like hell and I was feeling like I’m in heaven, even though I don’t believe in heaven.

Just as I was about to bash Janelle’s head some more, I saw a dark figure from the corner of my right eye, I turned around and quickly speared her to the wall. When I got up, I saw a dark-ass bitch moaning in pain. It was that stupid-ass bi-slut-bitch Azealia Banks. And I figured that she came out of the closet, where here dumb, bi-slut ass should have stayed. So I grabbed that ugly bitch and smashed her head against the closet door, reminding her where she belongs, in a rhythmical pattern to my chants.

“FUCK-YOU-BI-SLUT! FUCK-YOU-BI-SLUT!”

Now, I was satisfied and seeing that there was a pan-slut bitch in the room, I decided to introduce them to a new weapon of mine.

“Pansexuals, huh? Well I got something for you pan-slut bitches.” I pulled out a titanium-made frying pan that I named Rapunzel. I’m planning to use it on those who “ships” her an Merida together. RAPUNZEL IS STRAIGHT YOU IDIOTS!

“Hold on, I thought you was pansexual, Azealia?” Tessa said.

“No, I’m bisexual, like Janelle.”

“What are you talking about? I’m Pansexual, just like Tessa.”

“No Janelle, I’m bisexual, like Azealia.”

I shouldn’t be surprised, bi-sluts and pan-sluts are confused by nature. So, I decided to take advantage of their confused mess, and to use Rapunzel on all three of them, followed by The Rock.

I started to slap the shit outta those three STD carriers with the pan.

“Like this type of pansexual? BONG!” I said to Janelle, whacking her empty head with some sense. Then I went up to Tessa. “You gonna get some of Rapunzel as well! BONG!” Now that high-yellow Lionel-Richie bitch got panned. And finally, Azealia. “You ugly charcoal-burn-ass pan-slut bitch, prepare to get rung! BONG!” I did this a few more times to my pleasure. Next up as promised was The Rock, which is basically a slightly-larger-than-hand-sized rock used to smack those roody poo jabronis down to the SmackDown Hotel. That’s the price they pay for rocking the three colours (bisexual flag).

“And guess what? The Rock still has some bloodstains and brain matter from that pedo-fag, see?” I showed it to them. They got scared immediately. “Now I’m gonna use it on all three of y’all candy asses!”

First I took The Rock to Janelle’s face and laid the smackdown on her, sending her pan-slut ass back down to Jabroni Drive. I was so in the mood, I decided to sing a song to those three twats.

“Rock me tonight, for old times sake… SMASH!”

Then I took The Rock to Tessa’s face and rock bottomed her to the floor. She was crying like the bitch she is.

And finally Azealia gets The Rock as well. “Guess what, bitch? Russell Crowe said hi!” I hit her right across her big mouth with it.

But I wasn’t done yet. I grabbed pan-slut Janelle and slammed her through the table and then speared her through another closet door, putting her back where she belongs. Then I took Tessa and shoved that bitch’s head down the toilet.

“Why you complainin’? I though you like to taste piss! You piss-colored confused ho!”

Then I finally got to Azealia, who looked a walking piece-of-shit, which she is. I brought her ass to the kitchen and turned on the stove. Unfortunately, it was electric, so no flames. Nevertheless, I slammed her ugly fish-and-chicken-eating face onto it, burning the fuck outta her, but it was hard to tell since her black-ass was so dark.

Now it was time to introduce the threesome twats to another bi-slut, The Solution. A modified bat that “swings both ways.” It has a titanium core, perfect for the snap, crackle, and pop on those people skulls. On one side there’s the crossed-out fag flag as well as the crossed-out dyke flag. On the other side is the crossed-out bi/pan/omni/hetero-flexi-bulltshit/whatever the fuck they call themselves-slut flag, as well as the crossed-out transmutant flag, a group that’s even more confused than the previously mentioned group.

I turned it over to the bi-slut/transmutant side and proceed to use it on them.

First, on Azealia.

“This is for being an annoying bitch with no real talent. Your music sucks! CRACK!” “And this is for Russell Crowe! CRACK!” “And this is for being a sick, disgusting, charcoal-burnt, Tyler-Perry-Villain-Man, big mouth, bi-slut/pan-slut whore! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!”

Next was Tessa.

“This is for you sorry-ass acting skills! CRACK!” “And this is for dating white dudes! CRACK!” “And this is for being a high-yellow Lionel-Richie, Tyler-Perry-Leading-Man, Golden State Warriors bi-slut bitch! CRACK!”

And finally Janelle.

“This is for being a big-mouth ho! CRACK!” “And this is also for your sorry-ass music skills! CRACK!” “And this is for being a dumb, stupid, Muppet, Gonzo, weird-ass, pan/bi/omni/whatever-the-fuck-you-confused-mother-fuckers-call-yourselves-slut bitch ho! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!”

Now, I pulled out my Glock 17, preparing for the end, but I wasn’t done yet. I had to keep it 100 with them.

“I don’t know what you bi-slut mutha-fuckaz tryna do, but I’m finna keep it on the 1. Don’t be bringin’ that mutha-fuckin’, LGBTQABCXYZ shit in tha community. It doesn’t belong in tha community. It never was part of tha community, and it never will be part of tha community as long as I’m around. Bet that!”

And with that note I proceed to finally cure the community from deviants like them, by putting a bullet to their heads. That’s the only real way to cure them.

First was Tessa. She was crying like the bitch she is, pleading me to stop, but I pulled the trigger.

Then it was Azealia’s turn. I was impressed with her, because she went out like a true soldier.

“Mutha-fucka, just pull tha god-damn trigga and get this shit ovah wit’.” I did as she wish, and now her ugly dead-ass got a bullet to the dome.

And finally the bi-slut bitch that I wanted to end, Janelle. She was tying to talk me out of it.

“Can you find it in your heard to – SMACK!”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I gave the bitch the John McEnroe Special, a left-handed backhand across the face. “Fuck you, bi-slut bitch! And shut da fuck up! You a bi-slut, no mattah how much you wanna sound fancy an’ shit callin’ yo’ dumb-ass self pansexual.” I finally put the Glock on her temple and squeeze the trigger. Blood and brain nuggets were oozing out of her head.

I had done what I wanted, and now it was time for me to get the fuck out of Waldorf-Astoria. They’ll be others in The Community that I will go after. Namely R. Kelly and Rhianna. Y’all days are numbered!

The End? It will be soon once I finished these mother-fuckers off!

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dasolution-ns · 4 years

Text

No Love on This Bloody Island

Part of a This Bloody Island series by Da Solution

A Curtis Prichard along with Katie Salmon and Sophie Gradon slam fic

Here I was again, on This Bloody Island. I hate Great Britain, but I can’t seem to divorce myself entirely from this country. Right now, I am in a hideout somewhere in the East Midlands. I had just straighten out another situation when I got a call from my good old friend, Jim Fenner.

“Oi mate! It’s been a while!”

“Yeah, I know. You know how I feel about This Bloody Island.”

“I know, I know, which is quite interesting that you keep coming here.”

“Yeah… You got so many of those people here that I have no choice but to keep coming back and straighten the situations around here. Fuck, the whole nation needs to be straighten out. Look who you got as Prime Minister, Boris Johnson! He makes Tony Blair look competent!”

Jim laughed. “Yeah, tell me about it. Anyhow, since you’re here, I want to tell you about this bloke who appeared on Love Island.”

“You mean that stupid-ass show? All it is is a bunch of shallow, thirsty losers screwing each other. I can believe that have different country version of that shit! The UK, American, and Australian versions suck like hell!”

“Yeah, it’s a piece of shit! Anyhow, there this bloke named Curtis Prichard.”

That got my head scratching for a minute. “Curtis Prichard… Never heard of him, but his name sounds familiar.”

“Well, he’s the brother of A.J. Prichard.”

“Oh, the dancer.” That’s what I know his brother primarily for. I don’t watch any show that promotes beta-cuck masculinity, but I’ve heard his name mentioned from time to time.

“Yep. Well, the other day on TV, he said that although he likes women, he’s open to relationships with men.”

I couldn’t believe what I heard, I was in shock for a bit, then I grinned for a minute.

“Oye! Are you there?”

“Sorry! Yes I’m still here. So, you mean to tell me that he’s a bi-slut bitch?”

“Yep, he sure is.”

Oh my goodness, this is great news! Bisexual males are like unicorns, very rare. I can’t past up the opportunity to hunt him down and kill his flaky ass. Honestly, I’m not too surprise that he’s also a pipe-cleaner, because he is a dancer, and there’s a lot of poofs in the choreography world. What surprised me more is that he actually likes women!

“That’s the best news I’ve heard since I’ve been here. I can’t wait to finish that fence-jumping, gate-swinging sucker off!”

“I knew that would bring a smile on your face.” Jim said. I can imagine him grinning on the other line. “Anyhow, a mate of mine knows where he lives, and can get you a key to the place?”

“Really? That seems to be too easy.”

“Yeah, but you already know that British home security ain’t worth shit.”

I shrugged. “True dat.” It’s laughable here. Not that I’m complaining.

“So, when can I see the geezer? Hopefully sooner than later. You know my saying, if it’s a bi, then it must die!”

Fenner chuckled on the other end. “Of course.”

The next day, I was able to meet the guy, and not so surprising, he looked like a total chav. Chavs are like lower-class people who try to dress like they’re from hood. They wore the same shit bruthas and sistas used to wear in hood 10-years ago. And yeah, most of them are indeed white. He came up to me and said. “Oye mate, I ‘erd you got the best Whizz on the planet?”

Whizz is a slang term for meth. I think it has to do something with a comic character that was popular in Britain.

“I sure do.” When I said that, he smiled with his rotten teeth. The guy was a professional tweaker. “Lemme guess, in order for me to get the key, you want some of my stuff?”

“Right-o!”

“No problem. But first, the key.”

He handed me the key and a card. The card would help me get through the gate, since his place was gated. After that, I handed him a ziplock bag full of my blue special. His eyes grew big with excitement.

“Bloddy ‘ell, I’ve never seen so much Whizz in one bag!”

“Well, you know who to come to when you need your fix.” That’s if he actually still living after this!

Thanks to the card and key, I bypassed the gate and entered in the house. I was able to creep up upstairs without making a noise, right up to the bedroom.

In there I saw two women there, Katie Salmon and Sophie Gradon, two dirty bi-sluts who were also on an earlier season of the show. At first, I was disgusted, but then I was delighted, because I realized I can kill two bi-slut-dykes and one bi-slut-fag in one day! Christmas came a lot sooner for me, even though I don’t believe in that commercialized crap!

“What the fuck, it’s him!” Katie shouted.

“Bloody hell!” Sophie said as she started to cry.

“What the fuck is going on…” Out came Curtis from the bathroom, looking like he was getting ready for some action, as he was totally butt-naked. He didn’t have time to finish his sentence when I grabbed him by the hair and bashed his head into the wall, showing him what real bi-bashing is.

Then he fell down and finally saw my face. I smiled and said, “Hello, Curtis.”

“AAAAAHHHHHHHH! It’s you!” He shouted while lying on the floor in pain. I can imagine him having a bad headache that Midol couldn’t even take care of.

“Damn right it’s me. And I’m gonna kick you bi-slut punk-ass up!” I said following with a kick to the face.

While I was pulling that bi-slut punk up by his hair, I felt a kick to the rib, followed by a punch to the shoulder. It probably was aiming at my face. Katie and Sophie were fighting back. How cute. Deciding to focus my attention on those two bi-slut bitches, I gave Curtis the John McEnroe Special, a left-handed backhanded slap across the face, which sent him to the wall again and knocked him out. Then I went after the three-colour twats.

I grabbed Sophie by her hair and slammed her face into the dresser, then I took Katie by the throat and threw her face into the mirror. It shattered.

“That’s 7 more hours of me torturin’ your confused bi-slut ass!” I taunted. She was crying and I was laughing my ass off.

Then I got my burner phone and played a music appropriate for my next torture, M.C. Hammer’s “Here Comes the Hammer!” I went into my bag and pulled out a hammer.

Sophie screamed “No! Not that!”

“Yes, that!”

I took Sophie’s right hand and planted it on the dresser. While holding that beef-and-pork eating bitch down, I proceed to smash each one of her fish-smelling fingers. Then I did the same on her left hand.

When I was done with her, I did the same to Katie, as she was screaming while I was giggling my ass off.

After I got done with those two swing-set sluts, I said to them, “Now you two finger-friend won’t be fish-sticking each other now? Hahahahaha.”

Then I quickly went downstairs to the fridge and saw some salmon tacos. I grabbed a few and went back upstairs. I came up to Katie and smacked her with it. She screamed and cried.

“Bitch, why you cryin’? I thought you like that fish smell all over your face? After all, your last name is Salmon, right? Hahahahaha!”

After I finished, I turned my head around I saw that Curtis got back up. This was perfect, because now I can kill three bi-sluts with one stone. So I got into my bag and pulled out The Rock, a perfect weapon for those who like to rock the three colours (bisexual flag). Imma layeth the smacketh down on those people candy asses, especially that jabroni Curtis. Usually, I used this weapon while I pay The Rock’s theme song from my phone, and this was no exception.

First, I used it on Sophie’s face. The confused bitch looked uglier than before. Then I used it on Katie, and bloodied that bloody bi-slut bitch! She won’t be snacking on Sophie’s fish and chips anytime soon!

Those two were crying when I told them, “Aww, upset that you won’t be able eat each other’s fish and suck on Curtis’s chips anytime soon? Well, I got a nice consolation prize for you two, how about some malt vinegar?” I pulled out a malt vinegar and thrown it in their nasty faces. The vinegar made it more painful on their bloodied faces, as they screamed in pain and I laughed in delight. Then I threw it on Curtis face and he screamed in pain. After that, I punched him in the face a few times.

“SHUT-DA-FUCK-UP! SHUT-DA-FUCK-UP!”

Then I took out my stun gun from my bag and shock him a few times in a rheumatic pattern.

“FUCK-YOU-BI-SLUT! FUCK-YOU-BI-SLUT!”

Now it’s time to bring a new bisexual partner into this shit, The Solution. Hey, it does swing both ways! The Solution, a modified cricket bat with a titanium core that has the crossed-out gay flag and lesbian flag on one side, and the crossed-out flags of the bisexuals and transgenders on the other. As soon as I pulled it out, fear struck the three losers.

“OH NO, NOT THE SOLUTION!” Sophie screamed.

“Hell yeah! Me and The Solution will fuck you bi-slut mother-fuckers up!”

“PLEASE DON’T USE IT ON US!” Curtis begged.

I switch it on the bi-slut/transmutant side and hit him in the lips with it.

“Shut da fuck up! CRACK! I’ll use it however I want to.”

Now it’s time for me to teach these flaky, STD carrying losers a lesson.

First was Sophie.

“This is for having to see your stank-ass on Love Island! CRACK!” “And this is for being a depressed, drugged-out, bi-slut loser! CRACK!” “And this is for being a sick-ass, flaky, bi-slut bitch! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

Next was Katie.

“This is for being a cunt on Love Island! CRACK!” “And this is for eating pussy and sucking dick you filthy-disgusting bi-slut ho! CRACK!” “And this is for being a sick-ass, flaky, bi-slut bitch-ho-loser! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

And finally the bi-fag himself, Curtis.

“This is for being in that ratchet show call Love Island! CRACK!” “And this is for showing your poof ass, or arse, on Strictly Come Dancing! CRACK!” “And give this one to your dumb-ass brother A.J. as well, CRACK!” “And this is for eating pussy and sucking dick, you sick-ass bi-slut punk! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!”

Now it’s time to finish off these deviant perverts and to finally cure them… With a bullet to the head! I got some ropes from my bag and hog-tied all three of them. They were lying on the floor, tied up.

I saw Sophie on the floor, sobbing. So I came up to her and consult her the best that I can… “Hey I’m doing you a favour. I’m gonna put you out of your misery before you do!” I know about her history of depression and anxiety, and that she will eventually kill herself, so why not beat her to it? Although my way is much, much, more painful. I pulled out my Glock 17 and put the tip on top of her head. I pulled the trigger and in that instant, she was dead.

“NOOOOOOOOOO!” screamed Katie, as she started to wail over her Pussy-Pal’s death. I quickly shut her fish-smelling mouth by shoving the gun in her mouth.

“Shut da fuck up, Katie Salmon-breath.” She was now scared. “What? I thought you like long and hard things in your mouth? Well, as they say, pop goes the skeezer.” I pulled the trigger and the bi-slut bitch was finally cured.

Curtis then scream, “YOU BLOODY BIPHOBIC BASTARD! I HOPE YOU BURN IN HELL!” Then he cried over the death of two meaningless bi-slut-dyke whores.

“You got that wrong, you bi-slut punk! I’m also a homophobic and transphobic bastard as well. ”

I proceed to grab him by his hair with my right hand, and with my left hand holding a wrench, knocked out a few of his teeth. Then I kicked him in the nuts because I felt like it. And finally, I pulled out my Glock and aimed it to his head. I was about to end him right there, but then I remembered what he said earlier.

“I HOPE YOU BURN IN HELL!”

That gave me an idea. I went out of the room and came back with a flamethrower. He eyes jumped like it saw a great white shark.

“My apologies for being rude by not introducing you to my friend. This is The Whopper, and he is named that because he is about to flameboiled your arse!” I turned it on and pointed it at him. “Remember when you told me to burn in hell? Well, guess what? In your case, you don’t have to wait until you get to hell. You get to experience it right now.”

I pressed the lever and a stream of fire emitted out of it. Curtis was immediately cover in flames, screaming in horrific pain. I left immediately, because I knew the house going to be on fire.

As I was escaping, I saw a few firetrucks, along with ambulances and polices cars heading towards Curtis’s home. I just got rid of three deviants, and since I’m now in Britain, I guess I’ll straighten out more situations here. Trust me, the work never ends here.

THE BLOODY END

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dasolution-ns · 4 years

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Lyin’ Witches - Chapter 1

A Pretty Little Liars Slam Fic by Da Solution

Summer, 2019, Paris, France.

In the middle of a busy Parisian street lies a dollhouse store owned by an American named Mona. To the French people, she’s nothing more than a typical arrogant American, and those croissant-eating bastards would be right for once, but little did they know that Mona has a sordid past. However, this should not be surprising since the French does know little about anything. It’s 1000 (military time) and the shop just got opened when one of my crew from Team Solution came to the store. His name was Hervy. He’s rather new to our team and he was from Haiti and can speak French, so he’s perfect for the job.

Now why I wasn’t there? Well, let’s just say me and France have a very long history, and that I’m #1 on their Most Wanted list since 2002, when I tried to nuke the entire country. I’ve been responsible for over 1,0000 crimes over there, including robbery, arson, and hate crimes. Yeah, they REALLY hate me there, but the feeling is mutual. I MOTHER FUCKING HATE FRANCE! That’s the one country I want to wipe off the face of the Earth. Paris, Marseilles, Lyon, Nice, Toulouse, Annancy; all gone!

When he got in the shop, he looked around a while, pretending to be a customer. Nothing really happened until Mona came up to him.

“Comment puis-je vous aider? (How Can I help you?)”

“Actually, I don’t need your help, but I got something to show you.” He replied back in English, knowing her French is still not up there, despite what others believe.

“Really? What is it?”

Hervy pulled out his cell and showed a SnapApp video of a man… Me.

From what I saw on my screen, Mona eye’s bulged in surprise and fear, as she screamed out, “Oh my God, it’s him!”

“Of course bitch, who do you think it was? Janelle Monae? Hell no, I killed that bi-slut bitch already.”

“What?” She was surprised to hear that. “You know the Community won’t like that. They’re still upset over what you did to Afrika Baambaata, although personally I think he deserved to be killed.” At least we agree on that. Afrika Baambaata was nothing more than a has-been pedo-fag and should have been dead a long time ago.

“I don’t give a fuck about the Community anymore. The Community is not what it used to be. It’s been taken over by those LGBTQABCXYZ deviants.” I paused for a bit so I can catch a breath, know how would up I got for talking about the Community. “Anyways, enough talking about those people, or should I say those PATHETIC people. I’m here to talk about you and me.”

“Hold on for a moment.” She said.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Hervy asked as he was still holding the cell. She didn’t say anything as she quickly switched the sign to “Ferme”, French for “Closed” and locked the door. Smart woman.

“Okay, let’s continue.” She said as she was trying to act calm and cool, but I can still see some nervousness in her eyes. “What is there to talk about?”

I can’t believe she would say that. The bitch must have bumped her head or something. “Quite a bit, bitch. You remember the deal we made while you were at Ridley?”

“Yeah, and I did that. I killed Charlotte, that’s what you wanted, right?”

“Half-right, you stupid-ass ho! You were supposed to do more than kill that transmutant Charles. There was one other person you were supposed to kill besides Charlotte. Remember?”

She finally removed that false bravado of hers and looked down on the groud.

“Yeah, Alison…” She meekly moped.

“Correct, whore! She was part of deal in order to get your stank-ass out of Ridley. But you negate on it.” She didn’t say anything, because she knew I was right. “Instead, you helped them in capturing A.D. Why the sudden change of heart? You even once had an anti-Alison crew.”

“That’s because Alison helped me out once, even though she had every right not to. Since then, me and Alison has been good friends, and she deserves to be happy with Emily, you homophobic, biphobic, transphobic bigot!” She screamed. Her insults had no effect on me. I’ve heard them all already. “Besides, what are you going to do to me? You’re in North Korea. Is that why you brought this dude here, to kill me? If he does, then my boyfriend will kill him.”

I smiled at her and said, “See that’s where you’re wrong. I am not in North Korea, at all. I am not a 1,000 kilometres away. I’m am not a few cities away.” I was saying this as I walked halfway around the room, with my back still facing the wall. “I am not even a 100 metres away. The truth is Mona,” I said following a pause. “I am right under your nose.” I ended. That’s right, I was in the basement the entire time, and the stupid bitch didn’t even know it.

I turned on the light and there was a frightened Mary and Alex Drake behind me in the other room, seen through a huge glass window. The shock was overwhelming on her face. She quickly ran down to the steps, only to be unaware of the fact that I was hiding right next to the steps. As soon as she got down to the ground, I immediately grabbed her and threw her on top of the table, knocking over the dollhouse on top of it in the process. She hit her head on the wall and crumbled down to the floor.

I grabbed her by the throat and pinned her against the wall. Her feet might have been like ten centimetres from the floor.

“You thought that by moving to France, you would be able to avoid me, right?” She didn’t say anything as tears rolled down her eyes. “Well, you’re wrong, bitch! The reason why I don’t come to France very often is not because of their security and law enforcement. It’s because I can’t stand being in this shitty-ass fuckhole country.”

First thing I did is to slam her head against the glass, pressing it hard. She tried to scream but she couldn’t. However, Mary and Alex were screaming loud! Then I punched her in the ribs, and followed it up with a punch to the face. Now she was begging for me to stop it, but I didn’t listen to that bitch. I grabbed her by her hair and pulled her up. Then I made her face the two Drakes in the room.

“This is what you get when you try to fuck with me. Now you gonna be where Katie Hill and Afrika Bambaataa is right now; two metres deep!” I pulled out a hunter’s knife and slit her throat in front of them. It shocked the hell out of Mary, and it shocked Alex a bit, but not much since she’s used to seeing stuff like this.

After that, I let her go and watch her struggle for her life as she was doing her best to stop the bleeding, but it wouldn’t be, as she died a few minutes later.

Mary face turned pale, while Alex’s face wasn’t, but it was stiff and emotionless. Trying her best to show the British stereotype of that “stiff upper-lip.”

Then her boyfriend came downstairs. He was shocked to see her dead.

“No!”

I came from the shadow and said to him, “Surprise!”

He screamed. “AAAAHHHH! POW!”

I shot him right in the head. The two losers were dead. Mary and this time even Alex screamed in fright as I stood before two dead bodies.

Calmly, I opened the door for the two ladies and told them. “You two are under me now.” They didn’t protest or anything, for they knew better. I handed them to Hervy and he took them away from the scene. Now it’s my turn to leave, as France is more than willing to arrest my ass.

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dasolution-ns · 4 years

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The Culling of Cara Delevingne and Ashley Benson

A Cara Delevingne and Ashley Benson slam fic.

Part of This Bloody Island series

After sending those three bi-slut losers of Love Island to their graves, I got wind that a famous model and girlfriend was nearby in London. Since I was on This Bloody Island, I figured that I will pay a visit to someone I wanted to get rid of for a long, long, time.

I was able to break into Cara’s house easily because as the late, great George Harrison could have attested to you, British home security ain’t worth shit. A dead giveaway that I was in Cara’s house what that I saw a Chelsea Football Club flag in there. Cara is a Chelsea fan, and it’s perfect because that fake plastic club attracts a lot of fake people, such as Cara. As soon as I got int the house, I saw Cara and Ashley, in the kitchen, eating pork pies with chicken and apricots. Well, at least they weren’t porking each other, or sucking on someone’s chicken.

I walked up to the kitchen and said, “Enjoying your pork pie with chicken? Because this is the last time you two bi-sluts are going to enjoy pork and chicken at the same time.” Of course it’s true. I have to keep my motto going: If it’s a bi, then it must die.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH! Bloody hell, it’s him!” Cara scream.

“NOOOOOOOOOO!” Ashley screamed back.

“That’s right, bi-slut bitch. I’m gonna send your pendulum-swinging ass to a bloodied hell.”

Cara, thinking that she was the “man” in the relationship, thought she could take me on. She was wrong, very wrong. She tried to swing at me, but I blocked it and give her a few shot to the ribs followed a left to the face. She stumbled back to the wall. Then I went right after Ashley, gave her a straight right to her face. Hey, if she wants to BE LIKE A MAN, she should be allowed to take a BEATING LIKE A MAN!

Ashley tried to escape like a coward, leaving her supposed “love of her life” behind, but I closelined her and she fell on her flat ass. I grabbed Ashley by the throat and said to her. “Look her, you stupid-ass bi-slut bitch, I’m gonna show you what real bi-bashing is all about. It’s the same one that Katie Hill experienced, and so will you!”

“Please, please! I don’t wanna go out like Afrika Bambaataa did!”

I had to correct her on that one. “That was gay-bashing what I did to that sick-ass pedo-fag. Have you mess with anybody younger than 18 after you turned 20?”

“No.”

“Then at least you’re not as sick as that pedo-fag was. Still, I’m gonna show you what real bi-bashing is all about.” I got to my bag and brought out The Rock, a slightly-larger-than-hand-sized rock capable of laying the smackdown on those bi-slut candy asses such as Ashley and Cara. That’s what they get for rocking the three colours (the bisexual flag colour).

I proceed to introduce The Rock to Ashley’s face a couple of times, screaming at her nasty bi-slut ass at the same time.

“FUCK-YOU-BI-SLUT! FUCK-YOU-BI-SLUT!”

Next, I layed the Smackdown on Ms. Bad Eybrows.

“DIE-YOU-BI-SLUT! DIE-YOU-BI-SLUT!”

Those damn eyebrows were starting to get to me. So I got some facial wax strips from my bag and rip off those damn ugly-ass eyebrows of hers.

“AAAAAAAHHHHHHHH” she screamed in pain, as her eyebrows and a good amount of her flesh were on the strip.

Ashley was clearly upset over this. “You maniac! You homophobic and biphobic bastard! You… SMACK.”

“Shut da fuck up, bitch! I’m not done yet with torturing you two!”

I had to give the bitch the John McEnroe Special, a left-handed backhand slap across the face.

Now I despise threesomes, a ritual for flaky bi-sluts, but I always make it an exception when it comes to the only bisexual I can stand. The Solution. A modified cricket bat used for straightening out swing-sets like Cara and Ashley. It has a titanium core with a crossed-out flag of the fags and a crossed-out flag of the dykes on one side. On the other-side is a crossed-out flag of the bi-sluts and a crossed-out flag of the transmutants.

As soon as I pulled it out of my bag, fear struck on their face.

“Oh bloody hell, it’s Da Solution.”

“Bloody hell indeed, you sodding bitch! Let’s make it threesome, shall we?”

I quickly grabbed Ashley and told her this as I smack the shit outta her with The Solution.

“This is for being bland and boring! CRACK!” “And this is for appearing in that sorry-ass show Pretty Little Liars! CRACK!” “And this is for eating Cara’s English Muffin, you nasty, ugly, bi-slut whore! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!”

Now it’s Cara’s turn to swing with The Solution.

“This is for having those ugly-ass eyebrows of yours! CRACK!” “And this is for being a Chelsea fan. A money-made team with no history! CRACK! CRACK!” “And this is for being a nasty, disgusting, filthy, sodding bi-slut bitch! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!

However, I wasn’t done yet.

“Nobody can say your bi-slut gay-asses! Not Cindy Crawford, not Kate Moss, not Gisele Bundchen, not Tyra Banks, not Gigi Hadid, not Kate Upton and her big-ass titties, something you don’t have Cara, not even Adriana Lima’s ugly-ass. Not the fake plastic Chelsea Football team, who you probably slept with every member of, not Paris Jackson, and especially not Michelle Rodriguez, because I killed that bitch!”

“YOU DID WHAT??!!” She screamed.

“You heard me! I killed that bitch. I found her at a place in California and proceed to torture the shit outta her before finishing her off!”

After that, she started to cry, but I could care less. Then I changed my focus to Ashley Benson.

“And nobdy can save your bi-slut ass. Not Troian Bellisario, not Sasha Pieterse, not Shay Mitchell, not Janel Parrish, not Holy Marie Combs, and absolutely, positively not me! Nor George Benson, nor Lloyd Benson, nor Uncle Ben, and not even Benson from the old TV show can save your gay-ass.”

Then I pull out my Glock 17, to put and end of their sickness. After all, only a bullet in the head can cure those people. First was Ashley Benson.

“I don’t wanna die!” The bitch said while crying.

“Well, tough. You gonna die now!” I pulled the trigger and that was it for Ashley. Now Cara started to cry immensely.

“You heartless, bigoted bastard!”

“Thanks for the complement, Cara. I just killed two of your exes, do you know how that feels? Wonderful!” So I put the gun right at her forehead and told her, “I will take great pleasure in killing your wilderbeast-eyebrows-having bi-slut ass!” Then I pulled the trigger. Both bitches are now dead.

Now that’s what I call a good day. Cleaning out those people from the gene pool. Now, where should I go next? Why not continue on and make this island a lot bloodier?

THE BLOODY END.

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dasolution-ns · 4 years

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La Murete de la Tortiella Cucaracha

A Michelle Rodriguez slam fic by Da Solution

At an undisclosed location in California.

I got word that fish-taco-and-burrito-loving bi-slut bitch named Michelle Rodriguez was in California. She was enjoying a vacation at some house near the beach. There wasn’t any guards or anything, so breaking in was easy. I wish more celebrities were stupid like her.

When I got inside, I saw her reading a few line from her script, preparing herself for the next movie that you can bet she will suck in. Too bad she won’t live to be a part of it, because as I say, if it’s a bi, then it must die!

“Hey bi-slut bitch read this!” I said, as I gave her the middle finger. She immediately screamed.

“NO! NOT YOU!”

“Who the fuck you think this is? Vin Diesel? Nah, Imma fuck his faggot ass up after I’m finished with you.” Come on now folks, we all know that Vin is a faggot, and all that macho act he does is bullshit!

She tried to run as fast as she can, but I quickly caught up to her.

“Who the fuck you think you are? Speedy Gonzalez? There ain’t no way your bi-slutty ass’s gonna escape from me or from The Solution.”

First I gave her the John McEnroe Special, a left-handed backhanded slap across the face.

“SMACK! Now you know that I’m not fucking around, puta. This is just a warm-up. You’re gonna end up like Katie Hill and Afrika Bambaataa”

I found a plate of chorizo and ceviche on the table. Not surprising that she thought it made a great meal… So I grabbed it and smashed it in her face!

“Hey tortillera, why you complainin’ about having sausage and fish in your mouth at the same time? Isn’t that a fantasy for you bi-sluts?” I laughed as she started to cry because of it.

Then i went to the bar and found some liquor. I got a bottle of tequila and smashed it over her head. Then I got a bottle of Dos Equis, and smashed it over her head. Then I got a bottle of Corona and smashed it over her head. Then I got a bottle of Corona Light and Corona Extra and smashed both bottles on her head at the same time! Then I got a bottle of sangria, and smashed it over her bloody head. Perfect for her current state if you know what sangria means.

Next, I saw a rug on the floor. So I proceed to run that rug-muncher’s face on it back and forth, leaving carpet-burn marks all over it.

“AAAHHHH! STOP IT! IT HURTS!”

Now she was really crying, but I was nowhere near done.

I pulled out my phone and star playing some music. As soon as she heard me played that stupid pedo-fag Afrika Bambaataa’s song “Planet Rock”, she knew what was coming.

“Oh no! You only play that song when you about to get…”

“The Rock! You got it right, bitch! And I used it on bi-slut bitches like you who likes to rock the three colours! (colours of the bisexual flag)” And just as I used The Rock on that pedo-fag himself, I proceed to smash that roody-poo jabroni’s head with it, sending her straight to Smackdown Hotel.

“Now you will get the same treatment that Katie Hill and Afrika Bambaataa got when I was torturing those queer bastards!”

I smacked that fish-taco-eating bitch with a hot tortilla wrap. She screamed in pain while I laughed in pleasure. Then I shoved some fish tacos down her throat. “What’s the matter? When did you stop liking fish tacos?” She started to choke like crazy.

Next, I played “Cucaracha” on my phone. I had a jar full of cockroaches with me, and as much as I hate cockroaches, I smashed it on her.

“That’s what you get for being a dirty cockroach! You pussy-eating puta!” I reminded her.

I saw a full-size mirror in front of me, so I grabbed Michelle by her hair and pants and threw her into the mirror, face first.

“That means you got seven more hours of asskicking from me, you fucking fish-taco-eating tortillera puta!” Then I reminded her that, “bitch, this ain’t The Fast and the Furious! The only thing that’s fast and furious is me smacking your nasty bi-slut ass with The Solution.”

Her eyes jumped when I said that, because she knew what was coming.

“No, not that!”

“Yes, that!”

The Solution, a modified cricket back with a titanium core, used to straighten out people who are incapable of following a straight line. On one side has the picture of two crossed-out flags, one for fags and one for dykes. The other side has the picture of two other crossed-out flags, one for bi-sluts and the other for transmutants.

“This is for your pathetic acting! CRACK! “And this is for sleeping with that ugly-ass bi-slut with those ugly-ass eyebrows, Cara Delevingne! CRACK!” “And this is for being a chorizo-and-ceviche-eating, tortilla-flapping, pendulum-swinging, fence-jumping, AC/DC, bi-slut bitch, ho, puta! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!”

Now she was near death, but I didn’t want her to die just yet. I need to give her the cure to her sickness, a bullet to the head.

When I put my Glock 17 on her head, I said to her. “Buenas noches, bi-slut bitch!” Then I pulled the trigger and she was no more.

When I got out, I made sure there were no more disgusting cockroaches on me. Now, I need to get the fuck out of Commiefornia.

Fin

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