"None y'all want to admit who did it, then y'all gettin' an ass whoopin." Moms.
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Growing Up, Duke, and Today: Our Little Duke is Growing Up, Today vs Just 2 Months Ago!

Our Little Duke is Growing Up, Today vs Just 2 Months Ago!

Ass, Baseball, and Bones: 'You see Bert, I never really knew my father growing up. The only memories I have of him are filled with horror and abuse. In fact l only have one positive memory of him from my childhood. I was sitting on the porch or something, after watching him beat the shit out of my mom with a chair leg for the umpteenth time. So he walks outside and sees me, and somehow he's calmed down He gets this smile on his face, and he gives me this baseball bat. He told me it was for dealing with his shit for so long and keeping my mouth shut. He threw a few balls for me to hit, and we actually laughed and had ourselves a hell of a good time. Two days later, you know the story. My mom finally doesn't get back up from her session with the chair leg, cops take me away from the house, and I never see my dad again. The only thing I kept from that house was the bat. Throughout the years. Throughout nam. This bat has always been the constant. Now here's where things get really interesting. Early this morning I went on a walk around town. I came across a retirement home, and I tried to get in due to my granny fetish. The staff there was rather rude to me, so naturally, I immediately went home and devised a plan to kill them all. I went with the bat, as I do every now and then. So l burst back in, I'm swinging the bat around, I'm killing people, business as usual. Since I've cut the phone lines as I always do, have a good hour and a half to kill all 132 staff and residents. And I do. They're all dead, brains and broken bones are all over the place, my bat is bloodier than ever, and I get out of there as fast as I can. So I get home about three hours ago. I walk in, and I turn on the TV, hoping to see coverage of my latest massacre. It's the same deal, it's all the news is talking about, victims familie are crying, I'm laughing my ass off, and finally, they release the names of the victims. I sit Bert. I sit, and I sit, and I listen to every single name, and my dick is getting harder and harder. Finally, I recognize one of the names. Surprisingly enough, it takes me a minute or two to figure out where I know it from. But eventually it hits me. I've just heard the name of my father. I look at the picture next to the name on the news, and sure enough it's him. I'd know those neo nazi face tattoos anywhere. I sit more and I think about what I've done. I hold the bat as I do, and it slowly sinks in that everything has come full circle. Everything has happened the way it was supposed to. I sit there with that bat Bert, and I realize, my dick has never been harder. In. My. Fucking