Pennies: 2069 Chicken Cock Suey

Mar 24, 2018 | | Say something

“If you don’t get the penny count right today, if it’s off by even one penny, I’m not just going to smear shit in your face Bo. I’m gonna chop off your little Asian dick and make chicken cock suey. Then I’m going to eat your cock along with chicken and chopped vegetables right in front of you. And I will laugh. Oh, I will laugh, laugh to the fucking heavens with glee that you have SUFFERED,” said Boss Banky, Bo’s Danny-DeVito-looking short fat boss, as he stood on Bo’s desk and wagged his finger in Bo’s face. “Start counting, bitch! Fuck you fuck you fuck you fuck you,” Boss Banky continued to say, as he hopped off the desk and leaned his head in towards Bo’s ear. Bo enjoyed having a cock and did not want to see an angry midget eat it. He began sliding the pennies from the large pile on the left part of his desk, one by one, counting with unbreakable focus even while his boss repeatedly said “Fuck you” in his ear.

Danny DeVito is delighted to be drenched in diarrhea!

Occasionally in life there are triumphs of the human spirit, which despite being performed by anonymous and humble people, are life-affirming and inspire all who witness them. However, Bo was completely unnoticeable, so if even he succeeded against all odds and saved his tiny cock, no one would ever know or care. But Bo’s cock mattered to Bo. “75, 76, 77,” Bo thought as he heroically slid the pennies one by one across his desk. Boss Banky was officially flopping his surprisingly large flaccid cock against Bo’s face as he counted the pennies, something that he had mimed dong many times but never followed through with. It was clear that Boss Banky was hungry as fuck for Bo’s disembodied dick and wasn’t taking no for an answer. Bo’s coworkers were silent about the abuse, because they were truly incapable of witnessing it. Bo Ring was that goddamn bo-ring.

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Evolution is amazing

About an hour passed and the abuse petered out. “454, 455, 456,” Bo said as quietly as possible, so that Boss Banky would not hear, notice that his mouth was open again, and spray piss in his mouth with his squirt gun, with which Boss Banky was deadly accurate. Bo vaguely noticed that Boss Banky was elsewhere. His shoulders relaxed slightly, lowering from ear level down to chin level, a rare thing while he was at work. He ought not have been so optimistic. At the 400 mark he had left a barely perceptible divide between some pennies to mark his place, a bold move indeed, for if Boss Banky discovered such a dastardly trick he would make Bo start over and staple a sign that said “asshole” to his back with like 15 staples. But Bo had hidden this marker especially carefully, and could not help feeling a bit of fearful pride.

“488,489…” Suddenly, something hit the back of Bo’s head and his forehead flew forward and smashed into the desk. Bo looked behind him and saw Boss Banky holding a baseball bat, in a batting stance with it cocked and ready to swing again. “Batter up, you dumb chink bitch!” Boss Banky yelled in between some hearty cackling. He swung the bat with excellent form, generating surprising speed and power. The bat smashed into Bo’s cheek and instantly dislodged two of his teeth. Everything went fuzzy and Bo couldn’t really see where he was. Then he heard the bat snapping through the air again, and everything went black.

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Sexy

You might think that Bo would awake in the hospital. If so, you were not paying attention to the rest of the story. Nobody noticed Bo’s crumpled form on the floor for the two hours he was unconscious. He woke up lying on his side with a pool of congealed blood just beneath his mouth. Two teeth were in the blood. Bo moaned and then heard someone say “Shhhh!” He quietly got to his feet and sat back at his desk. He knew he needed medical attention so he looked at the clock to see if it was almost lunch. Unfortunately, it was five minutes past the end of lunch and Bo would not be able to leave for 5 hours and 25 minutes, at 5:00 P.M. Bo caught himself before he sighed, and he was lucky because he then saw out of the corner of his eye that Boss Banky was on the other side of the room, aiming his high-powered piss squirt gun at Bo’s mouth.

Bo’s heart raced. He couldn’t remember what number he’d been at, but if the slight gap between pennies that was his 400 marker was still there, his cock had a chance for survival. It briefly crossed Bo’s mind that he counted at most 50 dollars worth of pennies in a day, yet was paid 15 dollars an hour. Not to mention that a machine did his job for him in 30 seconds at the end of the day, using electricity worth a small fraction of a cent. But he always pushed such realizations of the absurdity of his life away immediately, for if he dwelled on them for too long, he’d be compelled to either drink a fifth of 99 proof grain alcohol, pass out, and forget all about it, or go with the only rational response to such an epiphany and kill himself with fire.

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This is a real person who died. Comedy!

The pennies were pushed together at certain points in the little river of separation, but he could clearly see where it was. It was a miracle. Bo found himself almost thanking God, but then he remembered that it was God’s fault that his penis was at risk in the first place. Bo discreetly slid every penny past the 400 separation point back to the pile on the left, and began counting again.

This went on for three hours, as always found himself zoning out at times and almost losing count. But this time he was determined, and always caught himself in time when his mind began to wander. “2,469, 2,470′, Bo thought. He wondered why Boss Banky had left him alone for so long today. Bo got a fear erection and jazzed in his pants. He knew that horrible midget wouldn’t let him off easy today. Boss Banky was notorious for eating the penises of rare and endangered animals at lunch while he drank vodka and sexually harassed all the women. Bo knew his cock would be a prize for Boss Banky, and he despaired, for the man seemed to always get his way.

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I’ll just leave this here

Btu Boss Banky never came back to beat Bo, at least not for the rest of the day. Bo’s shoulders were above the top of his head for the whole day, waiting, just knowing, that something bad was about to happen. But it never did. 5:00 P.M. came, Bo checked the pennies he’d counted and saw he gotten it right, and clocked out. Something was off. Then a coworker came up to Bo and handed him a note. “What’s this?” Bo asked, but the man just ignored and pushed him to the ground as he walked away. Bo opened the note and heard the guttural degenerate voice in his head as he read. Dear Bo, this is your boss. I went home early today to snort coke and masturbate to pictures of women having sex with animals. Tomorrow will be the day of reckoning, or should I say depenising, instead. Hate, Boss Banky. 

Bo felt both relieved and anxious. Then he wondered if it mattered how he felt. Nobody else cared, why should he? There was no point in living, but Bo was too lazy to commit suicide. He decided it was time to go home and drink until he forgot that he wanted to be dead. He got up, walked outside into the river of Asians, and was quickly pushed down again. And the masses walked on his body, noticing him not at all besides as a minor annoyance.

END OF CHAPTER ONE

 

 

 

 

Posted in: Shortened Stories

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