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Job

Matt & Bruce's Crazy Soiree

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Earlier, Doomguy-x brought us the horrifically short "Doom: To Hell and Back chap.1".http://www.doomworld.com/vb/showthread.php?s=&threadid=14225
Not many people were pleased by it, but I saw a window of opportunity wide open, leaving a chance to snatch up more than a cherry pie cooling on a window sill. So here's the carry on version of Doomguy-x's story. The point is for each person to take a turn and add their part to the story.
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doomguy-x started with:
DOOM: TO HELL AND BACK
Matt ducked. The flaming skull that flew over his head and exploded against the wall of the school. He remembered the one who fought for the safety of earth before, but it was he now who had to slaughter the Imps and Demons in the garbage plant. The garbage plant was littered with the corpses of his fellow men, and with the corpses of Imps and Demons. Then he heard it......

Job added:
...the buzzing in his skull would not relent. Such a profound thought birthed by the maddening heat of the compactors in the waste disposal plant...

"Matt? What kind of name is that? It's not unique enough..." The words spouted from his lips like the water in the treatment facility containment vats. "No, no -- Matt won't do. Perhaps Archibald, now that's distinguished. Adelade has a nice ring to it, but I love the classical style of Alexander...oh, quandries, worries...my goodness!"

As the character possibly formerly known as "Matt" stood in the refuse-laden corridor babbling to himself, a humanoid figure walked around the shadowy corner and stood but several yards away, sneering menacingly at our quasi-hero. This creature, this demon stood about 5 and a half feet tall, "Matt" supposed, and was composed of a skeletal frame with a leathery, blemish-laden skin that bore wicked-looking bone protrusions that appeared to be very pointy indeed. Two orbs of fiery crimson were set in the back of the hairless, brown skull...these eyes spoke of a pronounced hatred for all living beings.

Completely ignoring this new threat, "Matt" cupped his chin in his left hand and continued, "Porthos is classical, but way too archaic. Maybe Malachai? No...too biblical. Constance, maybe?" "Matt" turned his attention toward the demonic creature and shouted, "Hey, you, what do you think I should name myself? I hate 'Matt', it's too plain! Whaddya think?"

The only reply was a deep-throated animalistic hiss.

"Matt" had been with many women before, fellow high-schoolers. Brunettes, blondes (thought not all were natural blondes, he discovered eventually), red-heads, plenty of girls. Some were legal, some weren't, some were Mormons while others were Christians, Hindus or Atheists. "Matt" really didn't mind though, because he just loved women. But strangely though, he could feel a whole new chapter in his life developing by this chance meeting. "Matt" knew that it had only been a week and a half since his last hookup, but it was a week and a half too long. He wanted rough sex...and he had a strong supposition that this lovely young...whatever...could deliver big time.

He couldn't wait any longer, saying, "Nevermind what I should name myself. Just call me honey, if only for tonight, baby. You, me, that garbage heap," he thumbed at a large pile of refuse containing beer cans, decaying olives, the obligatory banana peels, even adult diapers.

The demonic creature, just stared back silently, in shock at this most unusual proposal...an indecent proposal to say the least. After it had gathered it's faculties, it said...

DooMBoy added:
The demon stared back at Matt, its eyes glowing a deeper red than before. Enraged at the young man's glaring stupidity, the imp snarled a warning. The highschooler didn't notice. The imp screamed in rage, partly at the thought of being asked out by a human, and a high schooler at that, and partly because dammit, this guy was supposed to be afraid. This demon was an IMP, DAMMIT, and more importantly, he was a DEMON.
The imp reacted in a highly violent manner, slashing out towards Matt, the young (and foolish) high schooler. Before Matt could react, the imp had completely eviscerated the young fool, his throat slashed and blood sloshing forth to settle in warm pools on the cold cement floor. "Wha...!", gurgled the studly scholar as he sank down on both knees, to flop forwards, dead.

Job added:
"Matt" shook his head and realized he may not be able to expect such kinky treatment on a first encounter. As he focused his mind back on the present and away from the reverie, it became apparent that this one may not be as easy as the juniors at his high school. "Shit," he muttered,"I may have to wine, dine, dance and romance this one if I want to make the extra point..." He looked back hungrily at his prospect...

"I'm not an entirely unreasonable guy, babe. How about we get out of here and head downtown for some Chinese? After that, well, we can come back to my parent's basement to...er...listen to some cds. How's that sound? Oh, and by the way, you're looking real hot. Real hot."

The imp was uttery bewildered. No one back at the Hell Social Mixer had ever made any similar prospects before. This was very tempting indeed. However, the imp wasn't sure of it's gender, much less it's sex. This was of no matter, though -- the offer was far too tempting, it concluded. Killing and ravaging was enjoyable to some extent, but even demons get hungry, and right now getting some Chinese was sounding really good. Despite the fact that an imp's throat was never meant to speak the English language, it tried to utter up the right words for the situation, using phrases it had learned on it's short time on earth, "O...kay...that would be g-good," it rasped. It paused, searching for the right way to "seal the deal", "I'd l-love to, big...boy."

"Matt" grinned back. "Score! I'm totally getting some tonight! For the cost of some Beef Lo Mein and a couple egg rolls, this'll be worth it," he thought. Confidently, he strolled over to the imp, grasping it's clammy, clawed hand in his and together they strolled out of the waste treatment plant, leaving the scent of raw sewage behind them for a more delightful aroma of sweet and sour chicken...
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Next person's turn...

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The imp suddenly realized it was a guy and slashed "Matt" in the _____. The End. :P

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Or was it? "Matt" realized that the series of underscores wasn't actually a part of the human body, simply a sequence of computer characters. He and his still slightly bewildered demon companion continued on their way to the restaurant. “Matt” knew that his chances of getting some tail tonight were 50-50 at best right now, he needed to be charming, get the imp to relax, get it to laugh a bit. He racked his brain trying to think of some good lines he could use. All the “horny” jokes he normally used when seducing Barons of Hell were out, he could think of a few “balls of fire” lines but he figured they were a bit too crude for so early in the evening. Maybe after he’d gotten a few glasses of wine down the hell beast’s neck.

Suddenly a thought struck him, the Imp was naked! He’d not even considered it until now, but now he realized that his date strolling beside him was as naked as the day it was spawned. Although the Imp was hardly conventionally attractive the mere fact that it was naked caused a rush of blood to the young marine’s groin, which he quickly endeavored to cover up by rather awkwardly removing his jacket and holding it in front of him. Relieved he returned his attention to the Imp, which was eyeing him more confused than ever.

“Sooo,” he said, “wadda they call you?”

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The imp made a vain attempt to bat its eyelashes at him, but being a demonic beast, it had never grown such things, so all it managed to do was approximate an epileptic fit. "Matt" watched the imp rapidly squint its blazing-red eyes, vaguely wondering if the imp was preparing to attack him, and more importantly, if it was some sort of sign about his personal appearance. He had the sudden urge to check his breath, but he didn't think it would be appropriate given the circumstances, and instead managed a weak smile.

The imp seemed to notice "Matt's" concern and stopped the fit, thinking to itself that these human gesture it had noticed might not translate well to its impy structure. Instead it chose to cock its head to the side, in a movement that would have tossed its long auburn hair alluringly, if it had any. Instead, the imp managed to jam one of its shoulderbound spikes into the side of its jaw, blackish blood trickling from the shallow wound. "Matt's" eyes widened briefly with horror.

"They call me B-Bruce," the imp attempted to purr. It sounded like an old man being garroted.

Bruce? "Matt" glanced down, attempting to hide his gaze by pretended to wipe his nose with his jacket. Looking between the imp's legs, he reassured himself that there was no male equipment hanging there. As he mentally breathed a sigh of relief at dodging taunts of "gay" from his high school classmates, he realized that only bums and slobs wipe their noses on their clothes, and remembered the reason why he had taken the jacket off in the first place. He threw the balled-up jacket at his crotch to cover himself back up. It bounced off him and landed in the dust at his feet. His face reddened even more as he bent over to retrieve it.

"Bruce? That's, um, an interesting name for an imp," "Matt" stuttered. He unballed his jacket and tried to dust it off while keeping it between him and the imp at all times.

"A-actually I don't have a n... name," the imp replied, absent-mindedly poking its claw in its fresh neck-wound. "B... B... Bruce sounded pret... pretty."

"Um, okay," said "Matt," now wishing desperately he had never asked in the first place. "It's just that, um, Bruce is a, uh, guy's name."

The imp, not knowing if it was a "guy" or not, had nothing to say. "Matt" couldn't think of any way to explain why his last comment wasn't an insult, so they continued to walk to the Chinese restaurant in silence.

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After what seemed like an eternity of walking in crotch-covering, jaw bleeding silence, they finally got to the restaurant.

"So, here we are," "Matt" said, for lack of anything else. Bruce only nodded. A portly Chinese man approached the couple. He didn't seem to mind or notice that both were bleeding and one person was not even a person at all, but in fact some kind of dog or something. Whatever, as long as they were paying it was all good.

"Where would you like sit?" he inquired in a thick Chinese accent.

"Um, what seats are available?" "Matt" asked. He wanted the best possible seat. At this point his chances with the imp were riding on this meal. Everything had to go perfectly.

"Well, you can sit inside, or out back in sun," the man responded.

"Matt" looked over at the Imp. "You don't melt in the sunlight or anything do you?" He wasn't familiar with what imps were allergic to since they were commonly studied in the second semester of biology and "Matt" was still in his first semester.

Bruce grunted. "I...I don't th-think so..." It was a peculiar question. Bruce had always lived in Hell, and thus sunlight was never really an issue. However, Hell was really friggin' hot, with eternal fires and all that, so it was safe to assume that whatever the sun could dish out was magnified ten fold in hell.

"We'll take a seat out back then," "Matt" said. Eating outdoors was more romantic or something. Chicks dig eating outside.

The man nodded and led them through the small restaurant to the back door. He opened the door and waved them to one of the two small tables.

"Have seat and waiter will be with shortly," he said with a smile, closing the door behind him.

"Matt" made sure to pull out one of the chairs and motion Bruce to sit. Bruce looked at the human with a puzzled look on his face. He was hardly accustomed to chairs and manners and frankly all of this was over his head. Her head. Whatever.

"You sit here," "Matt" said after an awkward pause, motioning at the chair with his head.

Bruce smiled at "Matt" and took his seat. "Matt" sighed, pushed in the chair and went to the chair opposite the imp. A few seconds later a waiter showed up with menus.

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I saw the title of this thread, knew what it was, and came to post impsex. Thanks, you guys, for beating me to it... or at least suggesting the direction...

Uh... said the waiter. Followed by "You want fly lice?"

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"Chicks really dig it when the guy orders for them" thought "Matt". "I'll have the beef lo mein, and she'll have the shrimp chow fun."

"Very good sir", said the waiter.

The waiter went back inside, leaving the two outside to talk. Bruce was relieved that "Matt" ordered, since it had never eaten human food before, only humans themselves.

They sat in awkward silence for a bit. "Matt" had no idea what to say. A thought hit him. "Crap, I dont have any rubbers. I'd better hit the store now. Dont wanna have to stop on the way back to my place."

"Excuse me, I have to use the bathroom", said "Matt"
Bruce nodded politely, not knowing what a bathroom was.

"Matt" went inside and then quickly out through the restaurant entrance. He had to find a store, and quick. If he takes too long, Bruce might think he has diarrhea or something. That would totally gross her out, and ruin his chances.

He spied a store on the next block, and made haste, reaching for his wallet to have it ready. Then the horror hit him, he didn't have his wallet...

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Suddnly reambering that he stached money in his pegleg.He uscrew his left leg and shaked it up sidedown.3 dollers, a rat and some superglue fell to the ground.After grabing the 3 dollers and puting his leg back on he rushed in ot the store.

"Matt" grabed a pack of "Little dude" condums and ran to the counter.
"How much are these condoms?" "Matt" asked the pimp at the counter.
"They are $1.10.They come with a free imp coak pump." The pimp replyed.
"Matt" grabed the coak pump and the condums.He ran back ot the chines place........

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"Matt" opened his bleary eyes to find himself lying facefirst in the dirt besides the Chinese restaurant. Wh..what happened? he wondered as he shakily got to his feet. Last thing he remembered was stepping outside to find a store and then realizing he had forgotten his wallet. He must have passed out. How embarassing, he thought to himself as he tried to brush a new layer of dirt off his clothes. No one seemed to be around so he must not have been out very long. He vaguely recalled some sort of dream he had just had. It was hazy and disjointed, but he remembered bits and pieces. Peg leg. A pimp. An "imp coak pump," whatever that was.

What did it mean? Was it some sort of sign? He couldn't shake the spooky feeling that these were premonitions of something to come. But no matter now. "Matt" sat down on the steps in front of the Chinese restaurant and thought things through. He had no money, and there was no way he could run all the way home and back without Bruce getting suspicious. So he couldn't buy any condoms, and -- wait a minute. Why would he even need condoms? Imps aren't people, are they? Do they even have babies? "Matt" had never heard of such a thing happening. Nor had he ever heard of any sort of demonic interspecies STD that he might contract. To hell with condoms then, "Matt" decided. And we can skip out on the bill. Can imps run fast? Chicks dig the danger aspect of that sort of thing, don't they?

Newly buoyed by these decisions, "Matt" reentered the restaurant and walked out on the back patio where Bruce was drinking from a bottle of soy sauce. The imp noticed "Matt" returning and stared quizzically at the brown stains spread over his shirt and trousers.

"I, uh, fell down in the bathroom," "Matt" tried to explain, but that just made it sound worse, so he quickly retook his seat and halfheartedly tried to wipe off the dirt with his ornamentally folded cloth napkin.

"So," he mumbled, trying to make conversation. "What do you do?"

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Bruce looked awkward and shuffled on its seat nervously.

"Ah well I er, I mainly shred people," Bruce made some clawing and gouging motions with its hands, "and throw f-fireballs at them." The creature made a throwing motion with its hand, causing a bright orange ball to spring from its hand as if by magic, blast across the table and hit "Matt" full in the face. Bruce cried in horror as "Matt" slumped off his chair to the ground, dazed and badly singed. It leapt up and dashed around the table to help the stricken marine.

"S-s-sorry!" Bruce stammered as the poor man rolled on the floor clutching his burnt face.

"Water! Water!" "Matt" managed to gasp to the Imp. It looked around desperately, no water seemed to be in sight. But then, aha! The human on the next table was pouring some from a small jug like thing into a cup. Bruce ran across, tore the jug from the human, ran back to "Matt" and poured the contents over his injured face.

"AIEEEEEE!" Pain dragged a mindless primal scream from "Matt" as the boiling hot water from the kettle splashed across his face and hands.

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"Matt" jumped to his feet in pain. He felt like his face was on fire! What was going on?! First Bruce shot him with a fireball and then dumped some boiling water on him! Suddenly a thought occurred to him. Was Bruce trying to cook him? Perhaps the imp misunderstood the concept of a date. Maybe he thought going on a date meant one of them would not come out alive after a bizarre sequence of strange events caused the death of one of them, seemingly an accident? Well, "Matt" would not be privy to such insanity! Or perhaps he would, but one thing was for sure, he wouldn't let this bastard Bruce get away with it!

"Matt" collected himself for a second and stood up.

"Ar-are you o-okay?" Bruce stuttered. He had only done what the human had asked.

"Uh, yeah," "Matt" said, eyeing the imp suspiciously. So, this was his game, eh? Who ever said imps were stupid had never dealt with this cunning one before.

Meanwhile Bruce stared at "Matt" with a blank look on his face. This whole encounter had been very bizarre and frankly he wasn't sure what exactly was going on, or why everything he did caused the human to scream in pain. Maybe this was the human way of doing foreplay. Man, what a bunch of weirdos. No wonder the forces of hell spent all their time trying to eradicate them! Nothing they did made any damn sense! Bruce had a feeling this was going to be a long night.

Across the table "Matt" studied his butter knife, trying to figure out a way to "accidently" stab Bruce in the eye with it.

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Suddenly Bruce grabbed "Matt" and looked down at the pale human. "Matt" looked up, fearing his life was over but then Bruce did something unexpected. Bruce leaned down and KISSED "Matt". The Imp's lips were like its flesh, leathery, but its tongue felt like a human tongue. "Matt" placed his hands firmly on the buttocks of Bruce, rubbing up and down with great vigor. Bruce pulled "Matt" close in passion and intesified the kiss.
Gonna get some, dun dun dun, gonna get some, oh baby yeah woot, gonna get some, do do do yeah "Matt" thought. He wondered what would happen next.

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I gottah admit, it's a bit'f a delight to read --- it's disgusting and perverted --- but it's cute, in a wierd, disgusting, perverted sort'f way.

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Shit! "Matt" suddenly came back to his senses. This is a public place, damnit! We can't do this here! What if my friends find out?! He quickly broke off the intensive bond that he had formed with Bruce and tried to regain his composure. Bruce was just as confused as ever.

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"No, not here, we have to go to someplace private" "Matt" informed Bruce. Bruce looked hurt, but nodded. "Matt" took Bruce to the "Shady Lane Motel" on 63rd Avenue.

"I'd like a room for the night" "Matt" asked the fat, sweaty slob of a manager that was behind the desk. The manager puffed on his ciggarette and looked at "Matt", his greasy, unshaven face twisted in a mask of cynicism. He emmited a loud belch and then proceeded to scratch his ass, which "Matt" assumed was probably hairy and unwashed.
"That'll be $25 for the room, $15 security deposit, $5 for sheets and $10 for the bathroom stuff". "Matt" gave up his hard-earned money to the creep, though reluctantly. Getting laid was expensive.

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"Matt" suddenly snapped awake. He looked down at the small pool of blood and snot on the table in front of him. What just happened? He looked around in a daze. He was still at the restaurant? What the hell had just happened? He remembered kissing Bruce, and then going to a hotel and paying for a room. But how was that possible?! He was broke! Had Bruce teleported him to some weird alternative universe? Or maybe the person who wrote that part of the story was an idiot? Or perhaps he had gotten one of those premonition things that hot chick on Charmed was always getting. Seeing as how "Matt" was not a hot chick though, it was more than likely that Bruce was behind these mind games. "Matt" eyed Bruce suspiciously. You've won this round, Mr. Bruce, but the game's not over yet. "Matt" thought to himself. He was dramatic like that.

Bruce had been watching "Matt" sleep in a pool of his own body fluids for around fifteen minutes before he finally woke up again. Apparently humans didn't handle being burned very well and passed out from the pain. What a weak race. And now to top things off the human had a weird look in his eye.

Just then the waiter returned with their food. He placed the plates in front of both of them, not seeming to notice that "Matt" was considerably more char-broiled than he had been not twenty minutes ago.

"Enjoy your meal," the waiter said with a smile, walking back into the restaurant.

Bruce looked down at the plate of...stuff... in front of him. What the hell was this. It was like little curly pink things and some green stuff. What kind of meal was this? These things were not bleeding. They weren't screaming in pain and begging for you to spare them! Thank god this retarded human was paying for the meal, because Bruce sure wasn't about to shell out $5.99 for this crap.

Just then, without warning, "Matt" leapt across the table and stabbed Bruce in the eye with his butter knife. Naturally Bruce had not been expecting this move so he toppled over backwards in his chair, clutching his eye, which was now gouged and bleeding profusely.

"ARGGGGG! Wh-what the?!" Bruce stammered.

"Ha!" "Matt" yelled, triumphantly holding his egg roll above his head.

Bruce looked up at the human with his good eye, puzzled. He grabbed the knife and yanked it out of his face, blood and bits of eye splattering on the floor.

"Why d-did you d-do that?" Bruce inquired.

"Oh, um, there was a bug on your eye," "Matt" said.

"Oh," was all Bruce could think to say. That did make sense. After that they both got up and finished their meals in silence, though Bruce mostly stabbed the shrimp with his claws and made little shrimp voices asking for the almighty Bruce to spare their poor shrimp souls. Aside from the eye stabbing it had been a pretty good night.

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Ultraviolet said:

And then they banged.

Cybie style.

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Suddenly, a squad of men dressed in green combat armor rushed into the resturaunt, toting shotguns, chainguns and plasma rifles. They surrounded Bruce and "Matt", shouting.

"ON THE FUCKING GROUND NOW" one shouted at "Matt", holding a Plasma Rifle to his head. "Matt" was on the ground in seconds, all too happy to comply with the order. Bruce, however, was very confused. Bruce stood, looking at the men with an incredulous look. "STOP RIGHT THE FUCK NOW, GET THE FUCK DOWN ON THE FUCKING GROUND OR I'LL FUCKING BLOW YOUR FUCKING HEAD OFF!". Bruce had no idea what this meant. Bruce stood there dumbly for a few moments when, without warning, gunfire from shotguns and chainguns tore Bruce apart.

"NOOOOO!!!" "Matt" shouted as Bruce's bullet-riddled corpse fell to the tiled floor. The men left without a word and "Matt" cradled the corpse of his love. Bruce was gone, and he wasn't going to get laid. Then "Matt" noticed that Bruce's lower half was still intact...

THE END

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BBG said:

Then "Matt" noticed that Bruce's lower half was still intact...



Just when you thoght this story has gone as low as it can.BBG turns "Matt" in to a necrofileac. Great story.

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THE END

After blubbering over his beloved Bruce's blown-up body, "Matt" gazed in the direction the men had left. One by one, he saw them become engulfed in flames and then blown upwards several feet into the air. One by one, they all met their makers, from an unseen force many yards away.

"Matt" glanced in the opposite direction and noticed a rather tall, bony looking creature moving its way quickly through the street, towards the outdoor dining section of the restaurant. He quickly realized that this thing must have sent the men to their deaths just moments earlier.

The creature quickly approached Bruce's torn up body. It raised its arms over the imp, curled its hands, and slowly Bruce regenerated into his/her original form. The creature then left quickly whence it came. Bruce was even more confused than ever.

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"Matt" seeing that bruce was back pitched a huge tent.All the blood rushed to his.....
He passed out.Hours later he woke up.Felling a strange pain in his butt.....

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"Matt" suddenly snapped awake again. It seemed the shock of seeing Bruce die, then subsequently get resurrected, caused him to faint. He seemed to have had some odd dream about pitching a tent, all the blood rushing to his head, and...felling trees? It made no sense. As usual.

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"Damn this crack is good." Matt thoght to him self.Bruce asked "Matt" whats worng with him."Matt" handed bruce 2 rocks and said.Its called crack.Bruce started to rub the crack all over her butt."No it called crack.Its not for your crack." "Matt said.

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"Matt" snapped awake again. What the hell?! I thought I already woke up! I must've been dreaming inside a dream. He vaguely remembered snapping awake once already, from a dream that involved something about a tent and lumber cutting. Now he remembered the dream he actually woke up from. I was smoking crack? If I only had the rocks, how the hell was I smoking it? It made no sense, as usual. "Matt" felt like someone was screwing with his mind. Someone who really didn't know what they were doing.

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