So John McCain is sat there in the office weighing up the relative merits of Romney and Lieberman as running mates for the 2008 ticket, when in walks
Rove. He’s got this big shit-eating grin on him and an erection.
“John, you gotta see this – you’re going to love it.”
And then there’s this smell – like a thick warm musk of rotting leaves and shit – just wafts in from the corridor. So McCain looks at Rove, who’s grinning like a
Sufi and says…
“The fuck is this Karl?”
“It’s the future of the Grand Old Party, the future.”
And so this smell gets stronger, filling the room, and in walks this family. They’re the real all-American cliché, Mom and Dad, five kids. There’s the boy near
twenty, proud in his marine uniform, a girl a bit younger with a small bump o’child, a girl just hitting puberty and another maybe seven, and finally in stumbles this baby, barely able to function, a Down’s case for sure. And they stand there, smiling. Rove nods, mom winks to the family and all hell breaks loose. Mom bows to McCain, keeps bending over, until her head is between her knees and McCain has to lean forward to see what she’s at, and she just lets go with this stream of piss, all over her own face. The eldest boy grabs the two younger girls and smashes their faces together, really crunching them and they’re knocked out, features all blood and teeth and they fall back onto the carpet. Dad, a tall guy with dark hair, grabs his eldest daughter and starts to lick her face, tonguing her neck, her back and, after cutting her jeans off, her ass. She starts to moan, then she’s singing some Dixieland crap, really hollering as her dad mouth-fucks her anus, and the retard baby just sits there, face distant, eyes wrong, stinking.
The eldest son is naked, ignoring his younger siblings, rubbing his anus along the carpet like a dog with worms. Dad catches him with a round house kick to the face, knocking him cold. Dad stops reaming the girl, wipes his teeth with his tongue and starts to dick his unconscious kids, all three of them; the war hero son, the little seven year old and the tween, just fucking them every which way as their eyes roll back and mouths bleed. And the retard baby just sits there, blank and distant, the smell overpowering.
So mom finishes unloading her bladder – her face and hair slick with the stuff – and turns on the poor neglected pregnant girl. She spits on her fist and rams it up the girl’s cunt, punching the unborn baby right in the face. Then her hand turns, claw-like and latches onto the baby’s head, and starts to rip it out of the womb. There’s blood and amniotic fluid everywhere and the girl starts to shit herself with pain and arousal. So the little ball of flesh is about half way clear of her vajayjay when dad pushes mom out of the way and starts dicking the foetus. Mom turns on the unconscious kids, throwing handfuls of shit and piss at them, kicking them,
literally frothing at the mouth, ranting and screaming, and dad begins to cum, firing hot jets of fuck-jam over his kid and her mistake.
Finally Mom’s rage subsides and she turns to the Down’s baby, fixing it with a stare. The smell off the thing is horrific, mixing in with the stink of piss
and shit and blood in the room, this vile odour of rotted meat and moss, and she bends down and picks it up, cooing and kissing it softly on its wildly distended forehead. And everyone is silent, the kids start to come out of their stupor, smiling out of their broken faces. Rove smiles and lights a Cuban. McCain stares at
them all, wide eyed,
“So, what the hell do you call that?”
Mom smiles and brushes her piss-soaked hair out of her eyes
with a shitty hand, says