The
strange death of Maurice Scratchyaballs.
Since he got pubic hair, his life was plagued with nits. Also on his head. Not surprising since he lived unemployed on benefits drinking it all and scratching away in his home of a cardboard box under some flyover.
Suddenly – one night…
Three bad people came to visit him.
How do we know they were bad people? I mean they could have just been from some socialist goody gooders offering a job as the local nit picker. Hardly.
What remained of Maurice Scratchyaballs, made pathologists wonder if there was a way to expire without a breath – this was scientific evidence. Indeed.
The three bad people threw a few coins in his begging bowl, gave him 30 litres of extra strong, cheap cider and laughed as the useless cunt drank himself to death.
Is that not so. So sad?
Since he got pubic hair, his life was plagued with nits. Also on his head. Not surprising since he lived unemployed on benefits drinking it all and scratching away in his home of a cardboard box under some flyover.
Suddenly – one night…
Three bad people came to visit him.
How do we know they were bad people? I mean they could have just been from some socialist goody gooders offering a job as the local nit picker. Hardly.
What remained of Maurice Scratchyaballs, made pathologists wonder if there was a way to expire without a breath – this was scientific evidence. Indeed.
The three bad people threw a few coins in his begging bowl, gave him 30 litres of extra strong, cheap cider and laughed as the useless cunt drank himself to death.
Is that not so. So sad?
The
End.
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