Styxhexenhammer666

I'm never gonna let you down I'm always here like a sun I'm never gonna say I'm sorry I'm a clown for everyone

I have noticed that people who are outside of a religion typically know more about it than those within. This has been lamented by the more cerebral members themselves.

@gooddayhowdydoo Yes I do love the world but that has nothing to do with this text and I have a daughter not a son.

@Styx666Official For GOD so loved the world that HE gave HIS ONLY BEGOTTEN SON, that whosoever believes in HIM will NOT PERISH, BUT HAVE EVERLASTING LIFE (John 3:16). Not too late Styx while you are still alive…accept Christ and His sacrifice on the cross for all our sins…

A new Morbid Story! THE THREE HEADED PHYSICIAN Idea from Chasie Bear Ike had a good job as a doctor. He acted as a mortician but was also trained in medicine. Effectively, he tried to keep people alive and healthy, but if they did croak, he would have to analyze cause of death and prepare the body for cremation or burial. Thankfully, his brother was an undertaker and his sister was a grievance counselor so it was sort of a family affair. The hospital and morgue had been physically connected, which was convenient, and done for budgetary purposes more than anything. But Ike had a problem. He was going insane. He would stay up for hours and laugh as he read ghastly literature or watched movies about Hell and demons. He usually did this while eating baked beans straight from the can, and his home was littered with them. Roaches and other insects had begun to proliferate due to the residue on literally hundreds of empty bean cans and the smell was horrendous as any leftover beans began to rot. He sometimes rinsed them out and used them as cups, or got lazy and used them to piss in. He didn't have much bathroom etiquette either since there was shit on the wall and the light flickered like some sort of eighties dystopian film. He got a bright idea after going mad from pills, which he reverse-prescribed to himself through a coworker, and he immediately set about his master plan. There were currently several patients in his part of the ward- which he managed- and several corpses right next door. He had a great position. He decided he wanted to graft dead limbs on to his body. He began by smashing the head of one patient before quickly slicing the throat of the next. She tried to scream but all that came out was bubbling blood. Chuckling, he began sawing off their heads and arms and legs and stacked them like cordwood. The blood was seeping out so he had to be quick, and began stitching and stapling the dead arms to the side of his chest, shoving a leg in near his tailbone, and then as the piece de'resitance, he slowly managed to staple the heads to either side of his shoulders. Between the stitching and staples, the dead body parts held, but he was not done yet. Laboriously dragging his “leg tail” behind him, he went to the morgue. There he withdrew one man who had died just a day before, and was not yet embalmed, and cut off his skin, then draped the dead, pale, mottled flesh over himself like a cape. He was finally ready for the final battle. Delusionally believing himself to be a ghost, Ike figured he would surprise his coworkers. Down in the lobby there were waiting rooms and a cafeteria, so it could get pretty busy. When he entered the elevator he could barely contain his glee, and when the door opened the entire staff had a sight of him, with dead body parts all over him, held in place by staple and stitch, bleeding slightly. The leg wiggled around behind him like a tail, and now he had six extra arms, including two from someone who was decaying. He had three heads now. The older dude's head was wreckage but the young woman's head was pretty much intact, and stared out with lifeless eyes. He was messed up. He lurched through the halls, laughing like a crazy man- because he was- and ranting about Hell and vampires. For some reason he also kept mentioning asparagus. People fled as the insane Ike tottered through the cafeteria, and began trying to “feed his extra heads”, remarking that they were hungry. He stuffed a meatball into each extra mouth and laughed, saying he was having lunch, before the security guard confronted him, appalled by the crazed visage. Ike did not relent but began throwing meatballs at him, until he got tazed. The extra limbs spasmed and shook as he was hit by the voltage and his heart stopped. He had a big erection when he died too, and fell to the ground, lifeless. In Hell, Ike finally got his wish. Now all of his arms and heads were functional and actually worked. He spidered his way through the caves and tunnels and looked almost like Vishnu, and spent his time cooking noodles and wontons since he had extra hands and so could do it more easily.

Morbid Story idea; Lucifer is riding through Hell on a giant reptile when he sees some imps smuggling illicit drugs, so he confiscates some of them and gets his reptile high and it goes berserk.

Trump warning off Israel over their latest strikes is effectively an assertion of dominance more than anything. It's like a big dog woofing at a smaller dog to dissuade it from some form of action.

Trump criticizing Israel apparently prodded a sore spot for some.

Look at the faces Listen to the bells It's hard to believe we need a place called Hell. A place called Hell...

youtube.com/watch?v=yaRXdq… New Morbid Stories this evening!

All of my accounts are clearly under attack. Joke's on you, I can't really make content anymore because I had a stroke. Fuck your parent of choice.

youtube.com/watch?v=34vBY_… Do you remember the good old days? I do.

Wait til they hatch Ai systems into physical robots programmed with an encyclopedic understanding of auto repairs, cooking, sewing, surgery. etc. The world will never be the same.

THE DRUG MAN Allen loved drugs. He had an entire rack with bag after bag of the good stuff... Weed, heroin, coke, crack, LSD tablets, mescaline, he had bottles and bottles of extracts, and much more, needles and lighters and pipes, a bong which was about as long as his forearm. He used drugs all day, because he wanted to. He had inherited a lot of cash from his mom, who choked on a yam, so he was slowly pissing the wealth away, but he was too wasted to notice He got a great idea. Why not make a drug cereal meal for breakfast? It sounded good because he was off his ass on drugs. He accomplished the feat of consulting his drug stash. Into a slurry of milk and booze, he added LSD, coke, heroin, crack, meth, dextro, pure opium, mescaline, shrooms, he loaded it all in. He was so high it took him half an hour to cut up the shrooms and mescaline and grind the pills, but he managed to get it done. And then he drank the whole bowl. It took so little time to kick in that Allen was laughing his ass off and incoherent before he even finished his “dose”- which, after all, was more like a hundred doses. He began hallucinating that Jesus was floating above. He was right, but Jesus was beating off watching with hilarity. When the psychedelics kicked in he hallucinated even more, as at first it was the weed and heroin mainly, but now he was seeing rainbows firing out of the walls and the town was melting into jelly. He ran down the road, unawares that he was not dressed, and was laughing as he passed people. He managed to kill one girl because he thought she was a leprechaun, and literally ripped her scalp off by pulling her hair, and shoved the scalp down a dog's throat. It started to choke, so he pulled it out and kicked it over and over as it wailed in pain. His mind was so far gone that he could not remember his own name. He cut off the dog's paws and quickly affixed them to some twine- which he always carried- and made a necklace from them. He decided to go to church to show Jesus his accomplishment. It was Sunday and there was mass. He barged in the front door, naked and insane and smeared wiith b;lood, decorated by a dead dog's paws, and announced that he was there to seek communion because he wanted wine. To him, the church was spinning in circles and the priest at the altar seemed to be levitating. He considered this confirmation of his religious piety and believed the lord was showing him the way. That way ended up in slaughter. The rest of the twine was speedily used to tie a noose around the priest. Allen figured he would help him go to heaven. One parishioner attempted to stop him but his punches meant nothing because Allen was now fundamentally immune to pain. Then he picked up a baby, grabbing it right from its mother, and hurled it like a football. It slammed into the altar and Allen yelled “GOAL!” before punching an old dude in the throat, causing him to spit up blood. Mounting the altar, as everyone- astonished- watched, Allen declared he was the reincarnation of Saint Peter, and that he could save them all, if they would suck his cock. He was laughing in a delusional daze, had no idea what was going on, and could barely stand. Indeed, Allen did not stand for long, and managed to teeter off the altar and fall to the side, concussing himself. He was on so many drugs that his body just stopped and he regurgitated blood and seized up, shaking like a tree on a windy autumn day, his arms and legs flailing, before he finally died in a pool of his own blood and excrement. In Hell, Allen was pleased to find that the priest he had killed was there and quite happy about it, since he had done terrible things to children. He enslaved the former priest in his pottery factory and made pots and urns that imps loved to use for target practice. This was a lucrative affair.

Do not give up, do not give in, do not relent, do not back down- sttand tall no matter how scared you get and above all be true to yourself. You are the only you, there is no other, not in this life.

@Alex_Major1 I am fine. I like splatterpunk

@Styx666Official Are you OK? Blink twice if you need help.

Behold the latest and greatest MORBID STORY! THE CRACKTOPUS What started out as a normal day at the beach went terribly wrong when Inbred Jed lost his crack bag in the surf. It was a mistake he would regret. An octopus, about six feet wide, found the crack stash as it went out on the waves, and devoured the entire bag, and it then proceeded to go crazy as it got massively high on drugs. There was some weed in the bag too, so the octopus began to develop delusions. Just intelligent enough to be more or less self aware, it though of itself as some sort of aquatic deity and proceeded up the water, into the shallows, where people were frolicking. They would not be doing so for long. Cracktopus grabbed Inbred Jed from below and ripped his dick off, then toppled him into the water. A bloody spray from his dick came out as he fell over and began to drown. This was the final orgy of hate and madness as cracktopus wrapped itself around his head and suffocated him. This was just the start. The next victim was little Timmy. He too had his dick pulled off, and cracktopus was looking for more drugs. Timmy was bleeding from his dick stump as cracktopus wrenched the dick and balls off a hippie, then grabbed his pimpulous coke stash and stuffed it in its mouth. This was some crazy shit. Cracktopus gathered dicks and balls for hours as idiots looked on, and then attained its final form. On each tentacle, there was a decapitated dick. It wore a crown of testicles, like Jesus did, and was drugged up and absolutely insane. Nobody could stop the cracktopus. One man attempted to drop it but it completely ignored the gunfire, sliding up he choked the man with a dick until he died. Cracktopus came up the beach out of the water making sucking sounds, breathing heavily because it had taken so many drugs. Cracktopus was barely able to remember where it was, as it slimed its way on to some retarded man and slid a dead tentacle cock into his ass. The man quite liked it because he was into weird shit and watched too much anime, so he took the octo-cock in the ass with glee. The next victim of cracktopus was less willing. It managed to slam a tentacle penis inside of a large bird and grabbed it around its neck, strangulating it with its tentacles, wrenching it to the side and then fucking the dead body with its actual genitals. It managed to stuff some of the decapitated testicles in the bird's asshole and then carried it as it pursued onlookers, who were terrified of the drug using cracktopus. Some old lady was sunbathing and originally not aware of what was happening. She was high too, but on liquor, so she didn't much care. Cracktopus set down in her lap and began sucking her pussy like a dog would lick an ice cream cone, and she screamed in horror as it slapped the dead bird on her breasts, saggy old milk duds that wobbled with a slight breeze. Cracktopus went haywire on drugs and slid every tentacle-dick inside of her pussy and asshole, and then pulled as hard as it could. She screeched in agony as the animal ripped out her guts, literally tearing apart the flesh of her entire pelvis. Steve the Drunk was on the scene. When he saw cracktopus it was time for a battle royale, he didn't want the competition of inebriation, he loved margaritas. He yelled at the thing to stop but cracktopus just slimed its way towards him, so he had to stab it. He slashed off all the tentacle dicks with a machete when cracktopus grabbed him, and soon cracktopus was just a bleeding head. Steve then died of a massive alcohol overdose. He was even more fucked than cracktopus. His body turned purple and was all stiff. It took authorities hours to get him, and all they found was a dead drunk beside a mutilated octopus. In Hell, Steve adopted the cracktopus, because they shared a love for drugs. Getting into the drug trade was easy because nobody thought an octopus could be trained to be a smuggler. It wasn't long before cracktopus had a luxury aquarium and Steve smoked crack all day.

The literary magnum opus is almost complete. This will make "Siclness in Hell" look like it's G rated.

The whole idea of splatterpunk literature is to be as over the top as possible, because it goes from horror to humor. It is arguably more an art form, designed to provoke the reader. It can also be used as a foil for political satire, personal swipes, etc. Remarkably complex.

@bigolemand There's your problem my dude. I was making this kind of stuff since high school and you joined up when I started to mainly do political work, which is more dry and analytical. I like splatterpunk, Craig Skipp and John Spector did it best but I'll give 'em a run for their money.

@Styx666Official Are you actually smoking Crack? Honest question I cant tell because your stories seem to have an element of truth. If so you gotta stop man. Been watching you almost 10 years and its hard. Dunno why you say you are dying but addiction is preventable.

"Cocktopus" is drafted. Now I have to edit. This will be a banger.