Cockroach

Cockroaches
Scientific classification
Kingdom:	Animalia
Phylum:	Arthropoda
Class:	Insecta
Subclass:	Pterygota
Infraclass:	Neoptera
Superorder:	Dictyoptera
Order:	Blattodea
Families
Blaberidae Blattellidae Blattidae Cryptocercidae Polyphagidae Craig Tomalski Nocticolidae

Foreword by the real Dooly Tilly

This Campteen is an anti-semite, ie, he hates Jews or is a self hating Jew himself....either way, his behaviour with writing this shit would warrant bannings from most forums and often expulsions from entire networks such as the EzBoard network{where I was famous for a short period}.

All groups need to transcend his wrestling/Insanity infatuation and press the button on this "worst South Australian" ever. John Howard{current Australian PM} banned David Irving from Australia in 1993, so it's obvious that all Jew hate must be opposed at the highest level and even at the grass roots.

In the name of FULL TRUTH this Rolnads FAG aka Mr Carnteen aka no 3 troll of the last decade should be dumped immediately by all. Mr Carnteen isn't a creative writer at all; he's a master plagiarist, atheist, hedonist and likely Satanist. Why are we tolerating this type of low life? Any over-masturbating, porn addicted, truth hating teenager can buy or steal a second hand computer and hook up to the net and unleash an avalanche of shit to rival the stench from Insanities shitpile.

We should not allow this type of real life TRASH to diminish the quality medium that is writing.

Dooly FULL TRUTH Tilly {2005}

This is a work of fiction. All incidents and dialogue, and all characters with the exception of a few well-known historical figures, are products of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental. Where real-life historical figures appear, the situation, incidents and dialogues concerning those persons are entirely fictional and are not intended to depict actual events or to change the entirely fictional nature of the work. The author has little knowledge of the geographic locations used in his fiction and neither does he care.

Inspired by Enid Blyton’s ‘Noddy's Toyland Adventures’.

Dooly’s Queensland Adventures

Episode 1: The Cockroach A Fare.

It is a period of civil war; Rebels striking from hidden bases against the forces of the evil galactic Empire… well… not really. This is actually the story of one man. A cabbie called Dooly Tilly whose quest for TRUTH has become a long life obsession.

Many battles Dooly has fought to achieve this pursuit of FACT but very few have concluded with the answers he seeks. In the tropical Australian state of Queensland, he hopes his profession will allow him to dissect the falsities from the FULL TRUTH.

The journey so far has been bleak; but there is still hope yet. Out of the nowhere comes one possible piece of the puzzle; the key he has been searching for? While riding his immaculate AU2 Falcon, anything is feasible. THE TRUTH IS CLOSER…

BTW, turn your brain off at the door. TRUTH is never pleasant…nor can it be comprehensible!!!

.

.

.

“Assumption is the mother of all fuck ups.”

- Craig Tomalski’s favourite saying.

“This is seriously damaging my health, if I end up having a heart attack I will go to Brisbane and have Dooly shot, I don’t care if I do time to be honest, I got the money to have his kneecaps blown off.”

- Craig Tomalski on Dooly Tilly’s alleged attack of his British GP Internet Petition {5th October 2004}.

1. “You don't know {Father}Mulcahey like I do... he might seem like the hero, but he's just a deviant who hates his views being challenged. He's an actual tyre fitter pretending to be a business man...LOL, he's so wealthy he can't afford weekend Net time...LOL. I DESTROYED HIM AND THE INSANITY CREW... AND THAT'S THE UNDISPUTED TRUTH.” - Dooly Tilly FULL TRUTHS Philosophy #54.

‘Fucking prick cheats to win again!’ Gilles yelled at the TV.

‘Yeah, there’s no stopping the fags these days,’ Father Mulcahey agreed.

The two guys on the couch continued to watch the TV screen viewing the usual celebration hugging and groping that comes from Michael Schumacher and the Ferrari crew during a race victory.

‘Look at them, mincing queers fawning over each other. I’m surprise they don’t just suck Schumi’s cock right there in the pits,’ Gilles said.

‘What do you think makes them do it?’ Mulcahey asked him.

‘Who knows? Maybe they know something we don’t.’

The two sat quietly again while they saw Ross Brawn being interviewed, where he was discussing the ‘genius’ strategy he pulled, which resulted in a JPM retirement and a Schumacher win.

‘Do you think they really enjoy each other bodies?’ FM said.

Gilles looked over at the Father. ‘What’s with the fucking questions?’

FM held up a hand. ‘Nothing… nothing, just forget.’

More silence and ‘watching the screen.

‘I guess they do…, Gilles answered after a minute. ‘Maybe… we are missing out on something…’

FM looked at him. ‘What are you saying?’

Gilles shook his head. ‘I don’t know… maybe… we should experiment.’

FM stared at him for what seemed like a long time. ‘I don’t know… doesn’t that make us gay or something?’

‘No, no, a lot of chicks do it all the time. They experiment with each other and they don’t consider themselves lesbians if they don’t enjoy it. Maybe we could try something…’

‘I’m willing if you are.’

Gilles turned down the TV, which now showed the trophy presentations, walked over to the CD player and selected a CD from his collection. He held it up and looked at FM. ‘I’ve been saving this for a special occasion,’ he said.

He stuck the shiny object into the retractable opening and pressed the button to close. Elton John’s ‘Can You Feel the Love Tonight’ suddenly flooded the room. Gilles then dimmed the lights.

He knelt down in front of a still sitting Mulcahey and started to take off the Good Father’s pants.

‘Now,just because we are doing this doesn’t mean we’re QUEER does it,’ Mulcahey said.

‘No, of course not,’ Silly Gilly said as he gorged Mulcahry’s cock in his mouth. MulcaGAY body stiffened at the sudden sensation. Gilles tongue was doing wonders he had never felt before, its like he knew exactly what another man wanted in a blowy. He looked at Gilles’ head bobbing up and down but the thought just made him hornier. He looked at the TV again, where Schumi was talking in the post-race interview, but just looking at Shummy speaking with that cat’s anus of a mouth just made him want to CUM more. MORE!!! The FUCKWIT groaned and said, ‘I’m going to let go, mate.’

Silly Gilles’ tongue lashing went faster and he mumbled, ‘CUM IN MY MOUTH. SHOW ME I’VE DONE A GOOD JOB, BABY.’

MOTHERFUCKINGGAY’S hips froze as his FOOTLONG cock convulsed in Silly Gilly’s shithole {his mouth HAHAHAHAHA}.

Suddenly,a new FAGGOT entered the room, completely bare-arsed naked with a goat on a leash. It was Mr. Campteen, the HTTP Frentzen nutjob WHO WOULDN’T KNOW F1 IF IT BIT OFF HIS FUCKEN COCK AND SERVED IT TO ZIONIST CUNT WHO BADLY NEEDS TRIP TO OVEN, GARNISHING IT WITH WENDAL’S LIQUID GOLD.

Cumteen grinned at the two other cocksuckers with his ERECT 2 INCHES IN HIS HAND and screamed, ‘I WOULD RATHER DIE THAN NOT EAT SHIT, ESPECCIALLY WARM SHIT!’

‘TAKE MY FOOTLONG IN YOUR CUNT, CAMPTEEN,YOU FUCKEN RETARD!’ DOOLY SHRIEKED.

Dooly??????? . . .

2. “I'm a different man, I explore the full truth of the human condition...and most people aren't interested in the truth. I wanted to make films with names such as ‘Scrotum Masters’ and ‘Australian and French Juice’. THE WORK OF A GENUINE TRUTHSEEKER IS ALWAYS CONTROVERSIAL, BUT NEVERTHELESS IS OF IMMEASURABLE WORTH. I'M AFTER PEOPLE WHO HAVE UNUSUAL FETISHES. I'm going to share a line from one of my potential films{Australian and French Juice}: here it is....’Yeaaaa, yeaaaa, yeaaaa, here comes my Australian juice, ahhhhh, now Pierre, unload your French juice, yeaaaa, yeaaaaaa, yeaaaaa.’ As a small child I was sexually abused by a cucumber {I HAVE OVERCOME}.” - Dooly Tilly FULL TRUTHS Philosophy #8

Dooly Tilly woke with a start. What the HELL was that?! he thought. A pleasant feeling was eroding his whole body, he looked down at his lap just in time to see his cock pumping out the last of the man juice from his sack. It started seeping through his work pants.

‘FOR FUCK’S SAKE, NOT AGAIN!’ He screamed out to no one in particular.

‘Davo? David, are you there, you arsehole?’

Dooly looked at his taxicab radio and recalled where he was. He grabbed the talker and said into it, ‘Don’t call me by my real name, SMALL JOHNSON. Who knows who or what is listening. On here I’m Dooly. DOOLY!’

Hugh Johnson on the other end groaned. ‘Yeah whatever, Doody. What the hell took you so long to answer anyway? You’re not sleeping in that Beenleigh park again are you?’

Dooly laughed in to the radio intentionally. ‘NO! What do you take me for, huh?’ he said, as he looked out the driver side window into the dim nightlight of the park. Hugh Johnson on the other end sighed. ‘Christ, how did someone like you become cabbie of the year three years in a row?’

‘Through hard work and determination, like my idols, the immaculate Schummy, Wendal Sailor and Anna Nicole Smith. Something YOU know nothing about, you disturbed sexual deviant.’

‘Yeah, it has nothing to do with the persistent rumours of your sexual encounter with the operations manager,’ Hugh retorted.

‘DON’T BRING UP USELESS UNSUBSTANTIATED RUMOURS, HUGH YOU FUCKWIT. YOU DUMBASS CUNTS OVER THERE KEEP USING THAT AS EXCUSE FOR YOUR CONSTANT FAILURES. DUMP YOUR ARSES TO CART,’ Dooly screamed.

‘What?!’ Hugh asked, confused as hell. ‘Jesus, Dooly, this isn’t New York City, try making some sense… Anyway, that’s not why I buzzed you. Someone needs to be picked up at the Brissy Airport.’

‘HUH?!’ Dooly exclaimed. ‘I’m not going 40 fucken kms out of my way just to pick up some yobbo. Get another loser to do it.’

‘Well, when we had losers in mind your name was on top of the list.’ Hugh Johnson’s laughter filtered through the speaker. ‘Seriously though, this person wants you specifically and is willing to pay whatever expense. Don’t ask me why, I don’t have a clue.’

‘So what’s the cunt’s name then?’ Dooly asked, obviously intrigued.

‘They wouldn’t say. They said you will know when you see them. Does that make any sense to you?’

‘About as much as your IRRATIONAL MENTALITY.’

‘Just do your job, bag boy, okay? I’ve had enough of your shit for one night. Signing off.’

‘NO, I DO SIGNING OFF, RETARD. HELLO? HELLO?! FUCKEN FAGGOT!!!’ Dooly threw the mic away.

He suddenly remembered the cold wet sensation drying on his trousers and got out of his AU2 Ford Falcon. He popped the boot and lifted up the floor to where the spare tire was meant to be. He started sifting through his Wendal Sailor memorabilia and collection of plaster casts to grab a fresh pair of work pants.

It was a cold night so the cum stain clung to his body like glue. He started to take his pants off when he stopped to look around. Trannies frequent these parts at this time of the night, it pays to be careful with those weirdos around.

He kept thinking about that fucked up dream he had as he dressed himself. It wasn’t the first time he had a dream like that. They were all different but all of the same perverted nature and they ended the same way: with white wet pleasure. What did it mean? Was there a message he hadn’t caught or was his queer mind just working its ‘magic’? Of course, he didn’t actually know what the three musketeers in his last wet dream looked like but that gay pic he made up three years ago filled in the blanks.

Ever since he was unceremoniously DUMPED from Sid’s hangout for closet fags and nutjobs, that type of dream kept recurring every night, with no way of controlling it. It would be fucking hilarious if his cock wasn’t pumping out semen as the grand finale.

WHAT THE FUCK DOES IT MEAN?!

He zipped up his new trouser fly, threw the old ones into the tire space and closed the boot.

‘Hi, there.’

As the boot closed Dooly froze and then done a 180 to see who said that.

Through the darkness he could make out a figure wearing a red miniskirt. No doubt what IT was…

‘You talkin to me?’ Dooly asked. ‘There’s no one else here, you must be FUCKEN talkin to me.’

The figure walked into the lamppost light, which Dooly and his cab had occupied. On reflection, not the greatest place to park. The tranny smiled at Dooly and said, ‘I enjoyed the show you put on just now, very entertaining.’

‘Savour it while you can, donkey, it was a one night only performance,’ Dooly said. ‘If that’s all you wanted to verbalize then I’m outta here. See ya.’ He started for the driver side door.

‘Now, now, there’s no need for name calling,’ the tranny said. ‘I was just admiring your… assets. Allow me to introduce myself, I’m Quetzalcoati but my “friends” call me Quetz.’

Dooly turned around and started to laugh. ‘HAHAHAHAHA, what the fuck kind of name is that? Certainly fits with what you’re wearing, queero. My arse is for sitting on, not other weirdo activities.’

‘Oh, cum now, Mr. Taxi Man. I’ve seen you around before. You’re obviously looking for a good time. Perhaps I can be just that? I’ll show you what a real blowjob is like, you’ll be cumming your brains out.’

‘FOR GOD’S SAKE, SICKO, I’M NOT INTERESTED IN YOUR PERVERTED LIFESTYLE. I LIKE WENDAL BUT NOT IN A GAY SENSE, I ONLY WANT TO NIBBLE HIS EARS AND WORSHIP HIS FOOTLONG. UNDERSTAND?’

Quetzalcoati had that same confused expression on his face like many do when Dooly announces his feelings toward Wendal Sailor, but then Quetzalcoati started to smiled again. ‘Oh, but I’m afraid you don’t have any choice on the matter.’

Suddenly, someone grabbed Dooly from behind and shoved him into the light again, in front of where Quetzalcoati was standing. Dooly quickly turned around to see three other trannies advancing toward him (as an after thought, lets give them three names at random: Lmac, Gareth, & fisirulezz). They weren’t small, petite ones either.

Dooly resumed his fighting stance. ‘GET BACK, FILTHY ASSGOBLINS. I’M HIGHLY TRAINED ASSASSIN AND WILL NOT HESITATE IN UNLEASHING MY AMAZING STREET FIGHTING SKLLS. I’VE LEARNED FROM THE BEST.’

The trannies looked at each other and laughed. They continued to advance. Dooly tried to execute a roundhouse kick but fell on his arse halfway through and onto the dirt. The trannies grabbed his arms and pulled him up. Dooly struggled for all he was worth but stopped resisting when one fag (Lmac, I suppose) slammed their fist into his stomach. Dooly let out a large ‘oaf’ as air escape his lungs and he started coughing uncontrollably. They dragged him over to the cab and slammed him front first onto the now closed trunk. Two of them (Gareth and good ol’ Fisi) pinned Dooly’s arms while a third (hey, its Lmac again) buried Dooly’s head into the trunk top.

Quetzalcoati slowly walked up behind Dooly, pulled down the cabbies’ pants, and then spread his legs. He stuck on a surgical glove and from nowhere pulled out a jar of vegemite. As Quetzalcoati was applying the vegemite to his glove he said to the cabbie,‘ Now just relax and let the lube-like-texture do its work. It’s a nice sensation once you get used to it, plus it gives rimming that… added flavour.’

‘GET THE FUCK… AWAY FROM ME, FAGGOTS!’ Dooly screamed. ‘THRUST ANYTHING UP THERE AND I’LL CRUSH IT LIKE A WALNUT WITH MY ARSE CHEEKS!’

‘I sincerely hope you try,’ a grinning Quetzalcoati said, and then he started applying his prescribed “ointment” for this delicate operation into the appropriate place. Dooly screamed even louder.

As Quetzalcoati done his task, one of the other trannies (fisirulezz needs a speaking part after all) said, ‘Wow, not much friction I see. Sticking foreign objects in forbidden places isn’t a new thing for you, hey Mr. Cabbie?’

‘FUCK YOU, CUNTS!’ Dooly screamed again.

When Quetzalcoati was finished with his cavity search-like task, he exposed his manhood (obviously they haven’t had the final surgery yet, or may never will…). ‘Just relax’, he said to Dooly Tilly; ‘who knows you may enjoy it. Now, you shall become a victim of my ruthless lust.’

As Quetzalcoati was about to enter Dooly, a loud bang noise came from nowhere. Everyone froze as the echo surrounded them. Another was heard a few seconds later and tranny no. 3’s (Fisirulezz) head exploded in a shower of brain mass and skull bone (yet I doubt it’ll affect his posting at GPM).

Quetzalcoati screamed. ‘RUN! ITS MR. BLUE THE EX-COP! HE’S BACK!’

The two remaining trannies (just a reminder, their names are Lmac & Gareth…names picked at random.  ) bolted as another shotgun shell exploded through the AU2’s rear-left side panel, near where Dooly’s body lay. Dooly, still lying on the boot, looked through the night to see a man walking in the same direction the trannies went, laughing as he disengaged a shell.

‘Allo, Allo, Allo. Thought I was gone, did ya?!’ Blue yelled out and then laughed again. He shot another round and the result a trannies’ left kneecap exploding out of its socket with the cross-dresser falling on its face (oh yeah… we’ll give Gareth this privilege). Blue walked right up to the sick fuck and aimed his shotgun muzzle straight into its face. The tranny screamed out just before Blue put it out of its misery (if you were a tranny wouldn’t you want to die too?). That was Dooly’s cue to get the fuck out of there.

He started to run for the driver’s seat when he tripped as a result of his pants still floating around his ankles. He got up, pulled his trousers up, and continued to run. He jumped inside his car and turned the ignition. The Ford fired up and Dooly instantly stuck it in reverse. The Falcon kicked up some dirt as the car lunged backward and Dooly swung it into a 180 spin, then continued forward just as his driver side mirror exploded as a result of another shell from Blue’s shotgun. Dooly continued racing through the park road and then screeched onto the main street.

3. “LISTEN YOU FUCKEN GOOSE, I DECIDE WHAT'S TRUE OR FUCKEN FALSE...GOT IT. And don't forget that Truth is what people believe, it can be based on lunacy, or it can be based on MY full Truth...hahahah.” - Dooly Tilly FULL TRUTHS Philosophy #234.

Dooly Tilly was shaking visibly as he continued driving down wherever he was going; he was too shocked to even notice where. He kept looking at his now broken driver side mirror and shuddered when he thought of how close that shell came to his head. He could still feel the vegemite. He turned on the radio, trying to get his mind off what had occurred just a few minutes ago.

‘… where we are It's enough for this wide-eyed wanderer That we got this far And can you feel the love…’

Dooly switched off the radio.

A few minutes later his mobile phone started to ring its crappy little ‘Go Speed Racer’ tune. Thank God, he thought, something to distract me.

He stuck the phone to his ear. ‘Hello?’

‘How are ya, Dooly champ?’ The person said on the other end. ‘Big Kev here, have you made a decision yet? It’s an investment opportunity of a lifetime. I’m excited!!!’

‘For fuck’s sake,’ Dooly groaned. ‘LISTEN, DUMMY, I’m not interested in your homo cleaning company. I’m not going to buy shares in something that is second only to DC’s career in terms of FAILURE. FUCKEN GROW UP!’

‘Now, now, Dooly, you said you’d think about it and not make any rash decisions,’ Big Kev said. ‘When you tried out my vacuum cleaner extension accessories you seem to like them… too much in fact.’

‘I was merely testing your line of products to see what I would be buying into,’ Dooly explained. ‘NOTHING MORE! Quit implying I was doing things of a perverse nature.’

‘Oh, I would never do that, champ. You like Paul Morris don’t you? I used to sponsor him, you know, and he won a race. We could start doing it again’

‘I’ve had enough of your incessant babble. I’m hanging up now.’

Big Kev started to sound desperate. ‘No, wait! I’ll lower the price! Please stay on! I’m excit…’

Dooly switched off the phone and chucked it onto the passenger seat. He slowed down and stopped at a red traffic light. He noticed that he was almost out of LPG; better stop somewhere pretty soon… The back-right door suddenly opened up and an incredible stink whiffled up Dooly’s nose. It was just indescribable. He turned around just in time to see an ‘Indigenous Australian’ of about 50 years close the door behind. The sitting darkie took a swing of the bottle he was carrying, it was covered in the paper bag he bought it in and he was obviously drunk.

‘Go away, Abo. I know, just by my observations, you spent your last buck on the grog. OUT!!!’

‘Gotta go to Brookfield, mate’, the Abo responded in his surly way.

‘GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY CAB, YOU STINKING GOLLIWOG’. Dooly screamed at him. ‘I HAVE STRICT BLACK/ARAB POLICY AND I’M NOT ABOUT TO CHANGE IT FOR SOMEONE WHO’S OBVIOUSLY TAKEN A SHIT IN HIS PANTS.’

The Abo just continued to look blankly down and repeated. ‘Brookfield. Gotta go to Brookfield, buddy.’ He then lay down and stretched out onto the backseat.

‘FUCK SAKE, YOU’LL STINK UP MY PRECIOUS AU WITH YOUR BOONG SMELLS. IT WON’T BE THE SAME FOR MONTHS!’

As the traffic light went green Dooly turned left and then immediate pulled next to the kerb. He got out and opened the Abo’s backdoor. Dooly grimaced as he saw the mystery stains all over the unconscious aboriginal’s clothes, an obvious shit stain was caking his pants.

How the hell am I going to get him out without actually touching his scurvy ridden arse, he thought.

‘What’s your problem, man?’

Dooly looked over his shoulder at the person who spoke, another abo, this one about 16 years old. ‘Get lost, punk. I’m trying to figure out how I can get this black cunt out of my car without catching something.’

‘You some sort of racist fuck aren’t ya?’ The 16 year old accused Dooly.

Dooly rolled his eyes and turned around to face his accuser, the black teen was obviously pissed off.

Dooly said, ‘Okay look, sonny, you’re young and black so clearly you are naturally retarded, therefore I’m not about to rationalise why I’m kicking this fucker out of my cab with my UNDISPUTED TRUTHS. Lets just say he clearly doesn’t have any money to pay for the trip.’

‘How do ya know that, huh? Dit ya ask him if he had da doe?’

‘No, but its obvious... GROW UP AND FACE REALITY, CHUM. IT’S WEDNESDAY NIGHT, DON’T YOU HAVE SOME DOLE CHEQUES TO BURN AT THE LOCAL SIP’AND’SAVE?’

A hand grabbed Dooly’s shoulder and turned him around. Dooly almost took a dump in his new trousers when he came face-to-face with 5 more abos, all adults. His sensors begun feeling all the painful things the trannies did to him before, chances are they will be getting a worse treatment pretty soon.

The boong pulling on Dooly’s shoulder and neck collar looked threateningly at the cabbie and then looked at the 16 year old. ‘This white fuck giving you any problems, little bro?’

The young kid smiled and said, ‘Nah, Pinjarra, he was just about to take Uncle Choga to Brookfield. Weren’t ya, woody?’

Dooly nodded his head quickly at the one called Pinjarra and said, ‘yeah, that’s just what I was going to do. Good kid that...yeah.’

Pinjarra grinned at Dooly and then shoved him away toward the cab. Dooly closed the backdoor, always aware of the Abo gang’s eyes on him, and then got into the drivers seat. As he was about it pull away, Pinjarra walked to his window and looked in.

‘Make sure you do take my uncle to Brookfield…’ Pinjarra looked down at the cabbie’s ID stuck on the dashboard, ‘…David, or me and my friends will get very upset. Do I make myself clear?’

Dooly continued to look straight head, avoiding eye contact, and nodded his head slowly. He was just plain scared shitless.

‘Good’, Pinjarra said. ‘We’ve got your cab number and details. If you think having Choga in your backseat is bad, picture a piece of shit on that nice clean dashboard or better yet, you accidentally falling on my dick. These things happened you know. Maybe then you’ll see what we use our dole checks for, hey? Have a nice night.’

He went off laughing and joined the others.

As Dooly sped off, a half-full McDonald’s thickshake container smacked the back windshield, spraying strawberry pink crap all over the rear. After a few minutes of driving Dooly started sobbing like a little girl.

4. “If this language offends just go to your local 7/11 and ask for credit from the mandatory paki/indian cunt there, if you can pronounce there{sic}name they may fuck your arse.” - Dooly Tilly FULL TRUTHS Philosophy #269.

The smell was going from bad to worse. Even with all the windows down Dooly’s eyes watered, not from his crying fit, but because of the stench. Body odour, booze, shit, urine, and other garbage were all cooked up together to unspeakable “perfection”.

The last straw was Choga the Abo cutting the cheese, the pong instantly became 3 times worse, it was like adding garlic to a dish to bring out the flavour. Dooly stuck his head out of his window, really struggling to breathe. He saw a filling station, pulled up next to one of the pumps, and jumped out of the car as fast as he could. Oh thank FUCKING CHRIST for fresh air! He thought, as he hunched over with his hands on his knees.

When he regained his composure, he looked at the car and saw the damage that was occurred during the night. ‘Fuck, the day shift guy isn’t going to like this one bit,’ Dooly said, as he walked around the cab.

There were two shotgun holes on the body, the one on the rear of course, and another near the left front wheel, surprisingly it hadn’t affected the motor at all, well as far as Dooly knew.

He opened the boot and started filling his car with LPG from the pump. As he was doing so he looked at which service station he was at. Oh GOD NO, he thought in horror. He was at a BP/Subway outlet, and he knew exactly who would be working here tonight… too late to avoid him now.

When the tank filled up, Dooly started walking to the store.

‘Get us a coupla’ green cans while your dare’, champ.’

Dooly looked into the backseat at Uncle Choga who seemed to have woken up at the right time to say that.

‘I’M NOT BUYING YOU SHIT,’ Dooly screamed through the window. ‘WE’VE ALREADY GOT PLENTY OF THAT IN THE BACKSEAT.’ He walked into the store, grabbed a packet of cheese and bacon balls, a copy of the latest F1racing Magazine (nothing like a Peter Windsor article to relieve the pressure when he needed to) and went up to the Subway bar.

‘Hi, Dooly,’ Klavs said, smiling at the cabbie from the other side of the bar, ‘haven’t seen you in here for a while. How’s your night been?’

Dooly said in a sarcastic tone. ‘Well, I was nearly tranny raped, harassed by cleaning products guy Big Kev {I harbour suspicions he lives in a toadstool}, almost bashed by a pack of coons, and I have one drunk on my back seat at the moment. It’s been just great, JUST FUCKEN GREAT. How about you?’

Klavs shrugged his shoulders. ‘About the same… So, do you want the usual?’

‘Yeah, the Wendal FOOTLONG deal. These two things… and 15 bucks of LPG.’

‘I love that TV show “Hack” about a NY cabbie who helps people. Have you seen it?’ Klavs asked, as he prepared the FOOTLONG sandwich.

‘No, I don’t watch unrealistic interpretations of my lifestyle… and life in general.’

‘Still an active environmentalist these days?’

‘Yes,’ Dooly said, ‘my mission in life is to reduce the Earth’s emissions by 50 percent by the year 2029.’

‘Why 2029?’

‘IN PREPARATION FOR NUCLEAR WAR WITH THE MACHINES, Dooly screamed in Klavs’ face.

‘Okay…,’ Klavs said slowly, ‘no need to shout any… what salads do you want?’

‘Tomato, lettuce, olives, carrot… AND NO CUCUMBER!!!’

‘What type of sauce/mayonnaise would you like? The same as last time?’ Klavs asked grinning.

‘DON’T BE DISGUSTING, FAGGOT. I KNOW THAT WASN’T MAYONNAISE SO QUIT YOUR CHILDISH PRANKS, HUH.’

‘But you seem to enjoy it last time, I saw you through the window gorging it like a starving Ethiopian orphan.’

‘I WAS HUNGRY. I CAN’T BE FUCKED COMPLAINING ABOUT EVERY LITTLE BULLSHIT THING YOU DO. NO MAN MAYO!’

Klavs laughed. ‘Okay then, your loss’.

Dooly went into a state of normality again (Dooly’s definition of normal). ‘So how’s that bunny Dawn doing these days?’ he asked. ‘She won’t take my calls anymore.’

Klavs shook his head. ‘Can you blame her? Anyway, I thought you said you were sleeping with trannies now.’

‘I was almost RAPED by trannies, FUCKWIT,’ Dooly corrected. ‘I get plenty of T & A … I mean, T & C.’

‘Tit and Cock?’ Dooly groaned. ‘I’ve had enough of your childishness,’ he said, ‘just me give my FUCKEN meatball FOOTLONG and my double-choc cookie.’

‘See you next time then’, Klavs said, giving Dooly his midnight feast and a little wave.

‘Fuck off,’ Dooly said, and then walked back to his taxicab.

He got in and stuck all the stuff he bought onto the passenger seat. He stopped and starting sniffing. The smell was different now; an improvement to be sure, but Dooly didn’t want this type of improvement…

He looked behind him and screamed out, ‘NOOOO!!! FUUUUUUCCCCKHEEAAAD!!!’

The Abo Choga had gone back to sleep but not before blowing chunks all over the back seat floor. It had already seeped into the carpet, probably damaging it permanently.

‘YOU MAY NOT BE ABLE TO HEAR THIS, BUT WHEN THIS IS ALL OVER I WILL KILL YOU AND LET YOUR BLACKY DREAMTIME GOD SORT YOU OUT,’ Dooly screamed and then started up the car, skidding off the ramp and onto the road, heading to Brookfield.

5. “I first met Campy{Mr Carnteen/Campteen} at F1online...{a forum he would later destroy}, I believe I had been unjustly banned from 10/10ths{but I have 2 memberships there now...he he} and so I made my way to F1online. It was here that I was inspired to emulate the F1 networks greatest and most prolific Troll.” - Dooly Tilly FULL TRUTHS Philosophy #99

Dooly Tilly decided to take a shortcut through the backstreets, he wanted to get this fucking BLACK CUNT out of his cab as soon as possible and get to the airport to see who this mysterious tourist was. The backstreets at this time of the night were deserted, not a sole outside enjoying the night…

Suddenly, the AU cab started to lurch back and forward and Dooly could see steam seeping through the sides of the front bonnet. ‘What now,’ he said.

He pulled off to the side and popped the hood. He got out of the car and opened the hood to be welcomed with a gush of steam. When it had subsided, he saw the radiator hose had been punctured, obviously from Blue’s shotgun killing spree.

‘Great, just fucken great,’ Dooly said. He didn’t have a spare one and none of his vacuum cleaner extensions would do the job, they were too small.

He went over to the passenger side door and opened it to retrieve his mobile. He closed the door and looked done at the phone. He thought of all the people he could call and thought there was really only one he could semi-trust.

He pressed the appropriate buttons and stuck the phone to his ear, hearing the ring tone. Someone answer, ‘Hello?’ a man’s voice said.

‘Hey, cunt, its me,’ Dooly said, ‘I need you to pick me up and drive me somewhere to get a radiator hose.’

‘Who is this?’ The person on the other end asked.

‘HAHAHAHAHA, very fucken funny, dummy. NOW COME AND PICK ME UP.’

‘I’m sorry, but who the hell is this?’ The person persisted.

‘Oh GOD, it’s Dooly, Sheriff, YOU FUCKEN GALLAH.’ ‘Who?’

‘DOOLY THE CABBIE! YOUR FUCKEN BROTHER!!!!”

‘Oh yeah, my brother. I remember you now’, Sheriff said. ‘What do you want?’

‘I JUST TOLD YO…’ Dooly stopped screaming and tried to restrain himself. ‘I just told you. I need you to pick me up to get a radiator hose. My cab is fucked.’

‘Now why would I want to do that?’ Sheriff asked, obviously grinning on the other end.

‘Because I am your brother and brother’s stick together. Hurry up, its cold out here.’

‘I’m sorry, Davo. I’m currently on a date and have a slight chance of getting lucky. If it’s between saving you from potential arse rapings or a small opportunity for some pussy, I’d have to go with the pussy.’

‘NO!!!’ Dooly couldn’t contain himself any longer. ‘QUIT THINKING THROUGH YOUR SMALL COCK. COME AND GET ME OR SUFFER MY WRAITH.’

Oh, since you put it that way…’ Sheriff laughed. ‘Why don’t you call your company for fuck’s sake? That’s what they are there for.’

‘I’M NOT GIVING HUGH AND OTHER FAGGOT CRONIES THE SATISFACTION OF AIDING IN MY TIME OF NEED. I AM 3 TIME CABBIE CHAMPION, ONWARD TO 4.’

‘Then I’m sure a 3 time champ like yourself can handle any dilemma presented to you. And anyway, if you happen to be jumped by a group of rampant homos it may be the best thing that’s ever happened to you. You may actually enjoy it, instead of screaming at others because of your sexual frustration.’

‘I’VE ALREADY HAD AN ATTEMPTED RAPE OF ME BY TRANNIES, AND I HAVE A STINKING BOONG IN MY BACKSEAT.’

‘Then ask your new friend for help, jesus… Did you say attempted tranny rape?’

‘HE’S INTOXICATED AND HAS OTHER DRUNKEN ABO FRIENDS WHO THREATENED ME. FOR GOD’S SAKE, SHERIFF, ENOUGH CRAP. HELP ME YOU CUNT.’

‘Again, can’t, have chance for pussy, go hell. Give Mum and Dad my love. Bye.’ He hung up.

‘FUCKEN, FUCKED, FUCKER!’ Dooly screamed out, echoing the sound into the night. He pressed redial but Sheriff had turned off his phone.

Dooly screamed out in rage, and without thinking ditched his mobile a little way down the street. It hit the road with a sickening breaking sound, it was obviously fucked.

HELL, Dooly thought, now I can’t call ANYONE! He didn’t know what the fuck to do. He was too far from the main streets and leaving the Abo alone with the AU2 Falcon was a BAD, BAD, BAD idea.

He sat back down in his driver’s seat and thought for a few minutes, always hearing the shoring in the backseat and that combination sick/shit smell polluting the air….

6. “I'm not gay or anything, it's just that Wendal{Sailor} does it for me… Black{massive footlong cock as standard}, baldy, good ears, and I'm told he has a shaved ass and scrotum. He excites me, and as a cabbie, I need some excitement. I can't get enough of Wendal and can't stop thinking about him.” - Dooly Tilly FULL TRUTHS Philosophy #69

Dooly Tilly was beating off inside the wall closet, looking out through the many slanted slits of the door toward the bed. He was secretly witnessing the lovemaking between two of his greatest idols, Wendal Sailor and Claudia Karvan, and he was enjoying every perverted moment of it. He was stroking his… ‘FOOTLONG’ with one hand and operating a camcorder with the other. The cam went on recording, pointing in the direction of the bed and a close-up of Wendal’s MASSIVE 15 INCHES OF PAIN, POUNDING AWAY AT CLAUDIA’S CUNNY, CUNT, CUNT.

Wendal rolled over on top of Claudia and continued his drilling… Dooly Tilly groaned silently. ‘Yes… grind her wet cunny, Wendal. In, out, in, out, it goes…’, he whispered to himself.

Wendal froze all of a sudden, and then slowly looked up toward the closet. His eyes continued to stare in that direction, at the visible red camcorder light.

Dooly stopped caressing himself. Oh shit, he thought.

Wendal Sailor lifted himself off Claudia, stormed over to the closet and yanked the door open and off its hinges. His black, naked, imposing figure looked down at Dooly, who had his pants around his ankles, and was still recording.

‘Hey, Wendall…, Dooly squeaked out, ‘... big fan… no gay stuff…. Aussie, Aussie, Aussie…’

Next thing Dooly felt was intense pain as Wendal’s right fist buried itself into his gut. Dooly fell on his knees and grabbed his stomach with one hand. ‘Ow, ow , ow,’, he started to whine.

Wendal forced the camcorder out of a sore Dooly’s other hand and smacked it against the wall. Dooly forgot about his pain for the moment and looked angrily up at Wendal. ‘WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU DO THAT FOR HUH? I’M MAKING IMPORTANT, GROUNDBREAKING DOCUMENTARY ON THE AUSTRALIAN SCROTUM. SHOW SOME RESPECT FOR THE ART FILM COMMUNITY, YOU DIRTY STINKING NIGGER.’

‘Every artist suffers for their art,’ Wendal responded, looking down at the cabbie.

Dooly lowered his head and came faced to… head with Wendal’s FOOTLONG… his immaculate footlong… Dooly licked his lips. THIS IS YOUR CHANCE, he thought, GADADAHEHEAA, WENDAL’S BLACK SLUG IS IN YOUR REACH. TAKE IT LIKE A MAN, YOU FUCKEN CUNT.’

Dooly opened his mouth and moved his head forward to openly receive the black shaft down his throat. But Wendal was too quick for him. He swiftly grabbed Dooly’s hair forcing him to stand up. He then lifted the pervert up over his head and threw the fucker out the closet and into the dressing table mirror. The mirror shattered all around Dooly as he collided with it.

Dooly stood carefully and pulled his pants up. He looked to Claudia on the bed and saw her cheering for her man, ‘kill him, Wendal baby!’

SILLY CHOOK, Dooly thought, I’ll show her I can beat the best, then she’ll see, she will be impressed by my UFC hybrid streetfighting style, DADADADABAAAHAHAAHA…

Dooly screamed at Wendal, ‘IF YOU WANT A FIGHT, NUMPY, I’LL GIVE YOU A FUCKEN FIGHT…. BAAAAAABAAA, OOK-OOK!’

He jumped onto the bed, narrowly avoiding Claudia and then leaped at the waiting Wendal in an attempted tackle …

Now, I’m sure you readers out there will know the old boxing saying of ‘never bet on the white guy?’ Well, this case is no exception. Who do you think would win in a fight between a white overweight cabbie with his own {hehehe} street fighting style and a black, very fit, professional rugby player whose job is to take on people twice the size of Mr Tilly? I thought so. Let’s just cut the case then shall we.

The bedroom door literally exploded as Dooly’s bruised and mashed body was thrown straight through, he then rebounded off the corridor wall, and landed on the floor. Dooly slowly lifted his head up from the ground and through his puffy eyes saw a figure, no two figures, standing at the end of the dim corridor.

Even through his blurred vision Dooly recognised them immediately. ‘Its YOU isn’t it. YOU ARE DOING THIS TO ME,’ he accused.

Carnteen looked down at Dooly Tilly and shook his head, making a ‘tut, tut’ noise.

‘I WILL KILL YOU AND THAT FUCKEN GOAT OF YOURS IF IT’S THE LAST THING I DO, AGGGHHHHH.’

Wendal reappeared in the doorway. He jerked Dooly up from the floor and slammed him face first into the wall. Dooly screamed out, ‘DON’T JUST STAND THERE, CAMPTEEN. SAVE ME FROM INSANE GORILLA, YOU FUCKEN NUTCASE.’

Wendal started breathing heavily in Dooly’s ear as he pinned his arms behind his back. ‘Is this what you want?’ Wendal asked him. ‘You’ve been waiting a long time for this moment haven’t you, champ?’

Dooly grinned. YES, he has been waiting for Wendal’s FOOTLONG FOR A VERY LONG TIME, VERY FUCKEN LONG INDEED…. 15 INCHES LONG… HAHAHADEEDEDEGHHHEEEHEHEE…

He leaned down on top of the boot of the AU Falcon and spread his legs apart. Something was holding both his arms down but he didn’t care… HE WAS GOING TO HAVE A TASTE OF REAL SUCCESS… UP THE SEWERPIPE GOES THE BLACK TORPEDO…

He looked to his left, stopped smiling and almost freaked, he then quickly looked to his right and DID freak! He screamed as he saw who was pinning his arms to the back of the AU: Mulcahey and Gilles. He struggled but they were too strong.

‘Now you shall become a victim of my ruthless lust…’

Dooly twisted his head as far as it would go behind him expecting to see the naked Wendal, only he was greeted by the sight of CT, the dotcom success story. He was smiling with his erect penis in his hands, preparing to guide it into the cabbie. Dooly looked at CT’s cock in wide-eyed panic, the head of his penis had a face… a black face… it was Pinjarra the stinking boong… and it was smiling at him too, like one of those acid spitting aliens in the movies. It spoke. ‘These things happen,’ it said and grinned wider.

‘CAAAAMPPPTTEEEN!’ Dooly pleaded to the man with the goat, who was casually standing nearby. ‘DO SOMETHING! I DON’T WANT THAT FILTHY THING INSIDE ME. FUCK, FUCK, FUCK. GGGGGGGHHHHAAAAAGGGGRREEEE.’

‘I would rather die than not eat shit…. especially warm shit,’ Carnteen said.

Dooly was on the brink of sobbing when he saw CT moving toward him… with Pinjarra. He could almost feel the coon shaft brushing near his behind… almost penetrating him…. No one will rescue him this time; no insane cops will come out of nowhere to save the day. ‘NNOOOOOO!!!!!’ . . .

7. ‘I'm the victim of the Insanity Crew{a bunch of sickos}, these sickos have used my name and spammed 100's of times. Porno spam, profanity spam you name it...they're sick as. I've been abused for no good reason for 3 and half yrs now... I'm a loyal Scummy fan, and they can't stand that...they need mental help. I tell the WHOLE TRUTHS OF REALITY, THAT’S WHAT OFFENDED THOSE PSYCHOS.’ - Dooly Tilly FULL TRUTHS Philosophy #5

Dooly screamed before realising where he was, he woke to be greeted with the cool damp early morning of Brissy. Despite the coldness, he was sweating all over and breathing heavily. God… my God, he thought over in his mind, that was the weirdest yet…. and it felt so fucken real.

He was still sitting in the driver’s seat of his cab with the bonnet up too. He must have dozed off… fuck how long was he out? He checked the clock on the radio: 12:47am. Not long, only 40 minutes or so.

Dooly wiped the sweat off his face and grabbed his coffee canister from underneath his seat. He then poured himself a drink of lukewarm brown liquid and sculled it down.

He slowly stopped breathing heavily but the dream kept playing his mind. Fuck that was the worst yet, he thought. God, how did it get so bad? FUCKEN TRANNIES AND THEIR PERSERVE SEXUAL URGES. BOONGS TOO, FUCK ALL DIRTY CUNTS OFF TO JAIL.

He felt his crotch. Dry. No pulled trigger this time…. He didn’t know whether to be scared or relieved… Maybe it was because he had emptied it only recently, he thought, or … he didn’t cum because there was hetero sex in this one? Oh GOD, NOW I SHOULD BE SCARED…

He reached over to grab his footlong (subway) on the passenger side but felt nothing but the seat itself. He turned his head and saw his meatball sandwich was gone, disappeared.

Dooly’s temper flared. ‘YOU FUCKEN THIEVING BLACK CUNT. THAT’S IT! I’LL ANALLY RA…’

He stopped screaming, as he looked behind him to see Choga the aboriginal missing too, even the sick mess was gone. No smell, no sick, no abo, no FOOTLONG, there was absolutely no sign of anyone else having occupied his cab this night.

He quickly got out of the front and opened the backdoor, insanely thinking the abo must have slipped under the seat or something. He searched for any indication, something… ANYTHING! ANY FUCKEN SIGN HE WAS THERE FOR GOD’S SAKE.

But he couldn’t find a damn thing. He lifted his head out of the AU again then rested his arms and head on the car roof. He started to softly bang his head on the white paint. Fuck it’s finally happened, he thought, Sheriff was right; I’ve really lost it. Really off the deep end. Point of no return. Time to get the strap jacket, hunny. GAAHAAHAHAHAA….

Dooly raised his head and screamed out into the early morning air. ‘ITS OFFICIAL, I’M TRULY FUCKEN INSANE. LOONEY BIN IS ME, ONE AND THE SAME… ONE INSANE, BWAAHAHAHAHAA…’

Different thoughts kept occurring in Dooly’s head. What sort of sick freak imagines having a drunken black in his cab? That made him laugh out loud again. Jesus, jesus, jesus… what else has my fucked up mind deceived me with? Obviously that Pinjarra cunt and his brother… the trannies? Blue? Klavs mayo? My JOB? MY BROTHER?! MY WHOLE FUCKEN USELESS LIFE???!! He slammed a fist into the cab roof. At least that feels real… well, my psyche thinks so anyway.

Are those dreams a look into my REAL life? No that’s crazy! ‘Ha! Your one to talk, you insane weirdo’, he said aloud.

STOP IT, he thought again, TALKING TO YOURSELF IS THE FIRST SIGN OF MADNESS! HAVEN’T YOU LEARNT ANYTHING?! But he was mad, wasn’t he? That’s the fucken point…. I don’t know what’s real and what’s not anymore… I should have never picked up one of those “What is reality?” books, unless I made them up in my head too. FUCKEN HELL!!!

He then thought of that Vanilla Sky movie with Tom Cruise. Penelope Cruz… nice tits on that bunny… THE POINT, GET TO THE FUCKEN POINT… That movie dealt with the concept of that which isn’t real and what is perceived to be real, changes machines can do to the mind… the Matrix too but the message was better served in Sky…NET! IT’S THE MACHINES, THEY’RE STARTING TO TAKE OVER… FUCK FUCK FUCK. DUMP DUMP DUMP……… Perhaps it was time to straighten up… fly right… no more FULL TRUTHS or crap beyond his own obviously flawed abilities. Finally see that psychiatrist Sheriff keeps recommending and just get on with life like any normal human being. REALITY ALL THE WAY, BABY!

Dooly was to the point of weeping openly when he spied something out of the corner of his eye, below him. He would have missed it under better circumstances but today was unlike any other day…

He bent to the ground and grabbed a shiny object that was just underneath the AU. It was an open, half empty jar with a label. He looked at the label, and then everything changed. Every thought about insanity and changing his life quickly evaporated, replaced with red-hot anger. The jar label said it was a full of ‘Big Kev’s Blue Goo Spew Remover’.

‘NEVER, KEV. YOU FUCKEN HEAR ME? NEVER!!!’ he screamed aloud.

He threw the jar in the same direction as the shattered mobile phone, and was able to chuck it that much further this time.

Dooly marched to the front of the car and was about to close the lid when he spied the new radiator hose replacement. ‘QUIT STALKING ME, YOU FUCKEN MADMAN. I DON’T OWE YOU SHIT.’

He slammed the bonnet down then climbed back into his car and started her up. No more detours this time, Dooly thought. STRAIGHT TO THE FUCKEN AIRPORT AND KILL WHOEVER STARTED THIS AIMLESS NONSENSE.

He pressed down the gas pedal and headed in that direction.

8. “I accept all people, even FUCKHEADS using a psych dictionary smeared with shit. And if you don’t like it FUCK MY CUNNY, you disturbing excuses for human beings. TED BUNDY{the martyr} knew about TRUE human nature and had the courage to ACT.” - Dooly Tilly FULL TRUTHS Philosophy #178

Dooly Tilly went through the automatic doors into the airport terminal and up to the general enquires desk. A young woman behind the desk smiled at him as he approached. She asked, ‘Can I help you, sir?’

‘Yeah, there’s a flight coming in,’ Dooly said. ‘Some cun… person that refuses to give me their name wants me to pick them up. Any chance you could find out who?’

The attendant typed on her computer for a bit then asked, ‘What‘s your name?’

‘Dav… Dooly Tilly,’ Dooly said.

Dooly noticed the young woman smile slightly but didn’t take make much of it beyond that. She typed a little more and then said, ‘Ah yes, Mr Tilly. Here you are, looks like they requested you personally. Your passenger will come through Gate 4 in 45-50 minutes, you can take a seat and wait if you wish.’

‘Could you please tell me WHO exactly it is I am waiting for?’ Dooly asked.

‘No,’ she said matter of factly.

‘What do you mean NO?’

‘What is it with men and not understanding that word? I think its definition is pretty clear.’

‘WHY can’t you TELL me who the HELL it is, huh?’

‘Security reasons.’

‘FUCK YOUR SECURITY REASONS. TELL ME WHO HAS BEEN ARSE RAPING MY LIFE, SLUT FEATURES. HURRY UP!!!’

‘Excuse me, sir,’ a voice said from behind Dooly.

Dooly spun around to be confronted by two burly looking airport security officers.

The guard who spoke before said, ‘your tone is inappropriate, I suggest you keep it down before there’s any further problems.’

Dooly had had enough of this. ‘FUCK YOU POWER CRAZY CUNTS,’ he screamed in their faces. ‘I’LL SCREAM MY PURE TRUTHS WHEN I FUCKEN WANT. I DON’T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT JOHN HOWARD AND HIS GAY SECURITY MEASURES. SHOVE IT UP HIS ARSE ALONG WITH BUSH’S COCK.’

‘Sir, are you on any drugs or prescribed medicines?’

‘YES, TRUTH IS MY DRUG AND REALITY IS MY PRESCRIBED MEDICINES, MUHAHAHAHAHA. DON’T EVER QUESTION MY INTEGRITY AGAIN. NEVER TRY AND CHEAT AN HONEST MAN.’

‘Okay, sir,’ the officer said. ‘You leave me no other choice. Come with me please.’

‘GAHAHAHAHA, WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU GOING TO DO IF I DON’T, GOMER PYLE?’

He reached out to flick the officer’s badge but a split second later found that same arm behind his back with him kneeling face first into the floor. The other guard had him pinned and grabbed both of Dooly’s wrists to apply handcuffs.

‘GET OFF ME, FAGGOTS,’ Dooly yelled. ‘HELP! HELP! I’M A POLITICAL PRISONER, LIKE DAVID HICKS EXCEPT I’M NOT FROM CUM DIGESTING SOUTH AUSTRALIA. SOMEONE CALL RAY MARTIN.’

‘Nothing to see here, go about your business please’ the first guard said to the growing crowd of spectators. The second guard lifted Dooly off the floor and hauled him in the direction of the security wing. Dooly screamed aloud for the 6E + 346th time today.

Campy Tilly Posted: Mar 7 2006, 01:33 PM

Administrator

Group: Admin Posts: 348 Member No.: 1 Joined: 5-March 06

9. 

‘I respect CT, I call him The "Craig", just like they call Trump the "Donald". CT is someone I have tremendous respect for...he doesn't cower to Insanity trolls, or anyone for that matter. He's a proven dotcom winner and an exceptional ADMIN...others have been destroyed by the onslaught of the Insanity crew, but their crap just bounces off CT....CT is way too good for all of them. - Dooly Tilly FULL TRUTHS Philosophy #45

One hour later, Dooly was sitting in the interrogation room; at least that’s what Dooly was calling it.

He had been waiting for 20 or so minutes in his underwear in silence, with only himself sitting together with 3 other chairs, a table, and a collection of Jacques Villeneuve posters on the walls. In Dooly’s mind it was like a masturbation harem for the mentally disabled.

Nothing had happened since the strip and hardcore cavity search. He could still feel the after affects of one of them GAYS shoving a whole hand and wrist up his arse, possibly two, he wasn’t sure.

Two completely unrelated cavity explorations in one night, Dooly thought. What are the odds?

The ‘interrogation’ room’s door opened and a uniformed man walked in with some notes in his hands and walked over to Dooly, offering his right hand. Dooly didn’t get up, not wanting to embarrass himself any further by exposing his fat gut. Dooly shook the hand and, as per usual with Dooly and handshaking, wondered if that’s the hand this particular cunt jerks off with…

‘Hello. Sorry for the delay, Mr….’

‘TILLY’, Dooly finished for him.

‘But your driver’s licence says WIL…’

‘I prefer TILLY,’ Dooly finished for him again. ‘DOOLY TILLY.’

‘Dooly… Tilly?’ the man said slowly, as if knowing the name from somewhere, but his factual expression stayed neutral.

‘Okay then, Mr. Dooly Tilly. I am Chief of Security here at the Brisbane Airport and I’m here just to give you a run down on what’s going on and maybe you can give us some answers to a few questions.’

He sat down at the other end of the table. He laid the notes down on the desk and glanced up at the cabbie. ‘Okay. We have found nothing in your possessions or body which indicates you are carry or using drugs. Looks like I lost the bet on that one… Also, I clearly doubt you are part of a terrorist group. They wouldn’t be so stupid as to expose themselves like the way you did.’

‘Gee thanks,’ Dooly said, laying on the sarcasm thick.

‘However, there was one thing,’ The Chief continued. ‘A substance and its location that confused the hell out of us, but I’m sure you can fill in the blanks. We found a yeast extract in your cavity area, better known as vegemite. Without going into too much detail, can you explain why it is there in the first place?’

Dooly shuffled in his chair, then after a moment said, ‘Trannies.’

‘Trannies?’ The Chief said confused. ‘You mean transvestites?’

‘YES,’ Dooly declared. ‘THEY PUT IT THERE. Them and their sicko ways. FUCK ‘EM ALL OFF TO JAIL.’

‘I… see… Why….?’

‘BECAUSE THEY ARE PERVERTED FUCKS, THAT’S WHY, NUMBNUTS.’

‘There’s no need for yelling or abuse. I’m not disagreeing with you on that point,’ the Security Chief assured, ‘but why would you let them do such a thing if you think they are that sick?’

‘I was sleeping in a Beenleigh park when they JUMPED me.’

‘Okay, you were having sexual intercourse with “trannies” in a Beenleigh park….’

‘NO, SLEEPING, YOU IRRATIONAL CUNT! DOZING. RESTING. BLUDGING FROM WORK, YOU SHOULD KNOW THE MEANING OF THAT, MR. SECURITY GUARD.’ Dooly laughed.

‘Yeah, and cab drivers are such amazing athletes.’ The Chief shook his head. ‘Beenleigh Park is a notorious hang out for gays, trannies, and abos... or were you not aware of that?’

‘Umm… I was…n’t aware… no…’ Dooly said slowly.

‘For fuck’s sakes, enough of the formalities,’ the Chief said. ‘Look, I don’t give a shit what you do in your private life. It doesn’t matter to me. YOU don’t matter to me. Just stay the hell away from my airport. I don’t care what your occupation is, next time you willingly, or unwillingly, find yourself walking through those sliding doors, there will be trouble. Got that, truth seeker?’

Dooly nodded absently, then the realisation dawned on him. ‘Why did you identify me as truthseeker?’ He asked.

Another guard opened the door and whispered something in the Chief’s ear. The Chief nodded and waved the guy away. When the other security bloke left, the Chief smiled at Dooly. ‘Looks like you’re in luck. You’re brother is here to pick you up and he’s convinced us not to pursue the matter any further. You’re free to go, he’s waiting outside.’

Dooly looked confused. ‘WHAT? HOW THE FU… ahhhh who cares how he knew. At least he’s here when I truly require him. Lazy CUNT.’

‘Good. That’s settle then. I’ll talk to him while you get dressed.’ The Chief stood up.

‘WAIT,’ Dooly said. ‘You avoided my previous question: why did you call me TRUTHSEEKER?’

The Chief looked at him and smiled. He said, ‘Truth is what people believe, it can be based on lunacy or the FULL TRUTH.’

He started to laugh and then walked out.

Dooly stood there for a moment pondering over that, trying to think of where he had heard that before but couldn’t remember. He dressed himself.

He opened the door to see The Chief Security guy and Dooly’s ‘brother’ facing away from him, talking and admiring another Jacques the midget pansy poster.

When Dooly approached them he yelled, ‘HEY, That’s not my fucken brother, you nob head. He’s too puny and girly for a start…’

The mysterious stranger claiming to be Dooly’s brother faced him, grinning. Dooly was stunned into silence.

‘Hey, Dooly…. My brother’, the guy said in a Goddamn gay, weaner, raspy voice.

Dooly was quiet for a couple more seconds before responding. ‘Hey… what are you doing here?’

‘All will be revealed in time. Help me with my things will you?’

Dooly nodded and then grabbed a couple of the man’s bags and a suitcase.

The man looked at the security chief again and said, ‘Thanks for your help, Eff One.’ And then winked.

The Chief nodded and smiled. ‘No dramas, CT. Enjoy your stay.’

CT also smiled. ‘Believe me, I will.’

Dooly began to exit…

‘Hey, Dooly.’

Dooly looked at Eff One.

‘Can we use your footage for ‘Border Security: Australian’s Front Line’? I mean, that was fucking hilarious. Me and the fellas here really enjoyed it. A real keeper.’ Eff One started to cackle.

Dooly said nothing and walked straight out the door. He could hear Eff laughing even harder at Dooly’s response.

Dooly and CT exited the security office and the cabbie led the way back to his taxi.

On the way, CT waved to the very person who caused Dooly so much stress in the last couple of hours. ‘Bye, Angie,’ CT yelled to the woman behind the enquires desk.

Dooly glared at her through eye slits, almost jealous-like. Angie smiled and gave a little wave to CT but when his back was turned, she stopped smiling and shook her head, like CT was below her and she was feeling sorry for him.

HOW DARE SHE, Dooly screamed in his mind. DOESN’T THAT SILLY SLUT KNOW WHO THIS MAN IS?

Of course CT wasn’t Dooly’s real brother but in Dooly’s mind they might as well be. The brother scheme has just another demonstration of CT’s charisma and influence over others. It was a way of eliminating the bullshit bureaucracy. BRILLANT.

As they were walking, Dooly looked at CT side on. CT was wearing a plain black shirt and cream coloured pants, and his bare scrawny arms and head exposed many red scalely looking skin spots but it was the vibe this man generated. He had the feel of a man on his way to the top, a Donald Trump type… except without the money and bad wig… BUT THAT DOESN’T MATTER… he is on his way. He might be known as ‘The Cockroach’ in some circles but many have underestimated this man at the helm of GPM, he has an unquenchable entrepreneurial spirit, a spirit honed by his life experiences. In Dooly’s head, it was suffice to say that CT is a very wise man and can achieve anything he sets his mind to. CT's dotcom venture has survived and flourished where others have collapsed, and through it all he's had to do battle with a handful of deviants{the Insanity crew}....that he's come out on top is testament to his vision, determination and wisdom. His Internet Grandprixmagazine enterprise will surpass even Bira’s rug munching whorehouse within the year. HE IS ON HIS WAY, YEAH! Looking at the bespectacled man, Dooly could see the next William The Conquer in Craig Tomalski… except this one is Jewish…

Some moments in life equal pure magic and Dooly believed this was one of them. CT will succeed where others have failed and the cabbie desperately wanted to be along for the ride. For now, Dooly was giving the rides.

Dooly’s popped the taxi boot with his smart lock remote and started loading up CT’s luggage.

CT smiled at him. ‘I’m really glad to see you, my friend. Especially after what we have been through. We’ve never met in person have we…’

After placing the last of CT’s gear in the trunk and shutting it, Dooly lunged at CT and bear-hugged him. CT hugged him back slightly but not to the extent Dooly was.

Tears flowed freely down Dooly’s face and onto CT’s shoulder. He blurted out, ‘I thought they had killed you, Craig. OH GOD, its great to see you alive.’ He wept even more.

CT patted Dooly’s back while embraced in that awkward hug. ‘There, there, I’m fine now and that’s all that matters.’

Dooly surprised even himself when he felt his crotch area tightening up at being so close to CT’s person. He was sure CT could feel it too but the GPM owner didn’t say anything or… pull away instantly.

Dooly let go and looked into CT’s eyes. ‘Yes… of course…. I actually thought it was Mulcahey who called for me. Does Sid and the other Insanity cock worshipping cunts know where you are?’

CT shook his head. ‘They have no idea.’

Dooly laughed. ‘You evaded them AGAIN! HAHAHAHA.’

CT also laughed. ‘Yes, but it was a close call. Sid found out where I lived and tried his luck by meeting me. Too bad for him.’

‘What happened? Dooly asked.

CT smile widened. ‘Lets just say he better have kept up with his life insurance payments.’

‘GAAAHAHAHAHAHA. You are a genius at what you do, Craig,’ Dooly said admiringly.

‘I know. You should have seen his mashed body lying on the ground, begging for his life. It was pathetic!’

A Holden VY Cab was blaring its horn at the two men. The cabbie stuck his head out the window. ‘Hey, Tilly! Move that Found On Rubbish Dump piece shit of yous! Some of us haf to fuckin work ya know!’

Dooly stuck his finger up at the yelling cabbie ‘EAT MY COCK, HUFFA,’ he screamed out.

Dooly looked back at CT. ‘Hey, tell me more along the way,’ he said. ‘Other FAGGOT cabbies don’t like parking spaces being hogged… UNCOUTH CUNTS.’

‘Okay,’ CT agreed.

Dooly opened CT’s backdoor for him, like an underpaid chauffer, and CT {kindly thanking him} hopped in. Dooly almost skipped over to the driver’s side, it was an HONOUR to have THE CRAIG in the back of his AU2.

10.

“I have nothing but the highest regard for the "MIND OF THE CRAIG". Whatever your disturbed feelings are, you can't overlook the FACT that CT has created and maintained a WORLD CLASS forum, and is successful despite being in one of the most cut throat industries. CT has proven himself as an above average business man....and no matter how you try and smear that achievement, the FACTS speak for themselves.” - Dooly Tilly FULL TRUTHS Philosophy #46

‘Its great to have another TRUTH teller around here. Not many of my friends are interested in the truth,’ Dooly said grinning to CT in the rear view mirror while driving. ‘We can share theories on economic policy, environmental concerns and the Jewish conspiracy.’

CT looked at him cock-eyed in the mirror. ‘Yeah… sure…sounds like fun.’

They were driving away from the airport. It was still quite dark. CT was looking out the window at lights and reasonably quiet night streets of Brissy.

‘Was that in fact Eff One back there?’ Dooly asked.

CT laughed. ‘Yeah, he’s a good bloke. Unfortunately, there are just some things you cannot tell to people like that. Personal things. It presents them with an ethical dilemma. Pffft. Who needs that…’

Dooly didn’t know what he was talking about but pretended he did by nodding in agreement.

With all the excitement Dooly almost forgot something. ‘Hey, what is our destination? Do you have a reservation?’

CT slapped his head. ‘Shit, I forgot all about that while I was fle… leaving the UK. Do you have any suggestions?’

Dooly grinned at the mirror. ‘How about my abode? I have a room available and I’m sure my parents won’t mind sharing the couch for a week or so.’

‘You still live with your parents?’

‘Yeah. Why?’

‘No reason,’ CT said. ‘I love those who have a close bond with their family.’

Dooly laughed uncomfortably.

‘I’ll be glad to accept your invitation,’ CT confirmed.

‘Great! Are you here on business or pleasure?’

CT grinned again and took a moment before answering. ‘Bit of both actually.’

Dooly laughed again but he didn’t know what the hell for…‘Listen, I have to make a detour. Just need to pick up a valuable of mine.’

‘That’s fine. I told your company I would pay any expense to acquire your services and I’m true to my word. Always am.’

CT looked out the window. ‘Where are these Aboriginal people you Aussies keep going on about? The way you talk about them I had the impression they would be everywhere.’

‘They hang around parks and any place where the grog is cheap and unlimited,’ Dooly said in disgust. ‘Tell you what, mate, if I was running this country they would be rounded up quick smart. Then to the ov…. never mind.’

CT pulled a bottle of pills from his pants pocket and gulped down a couple.

‘Don’t mean to pry, but what do you take them for?’ Dooly asked.

CT placed the pills back in his pocket. ‘Uh… allergies…. I’m allergic to… tropical weather.’

Dooly nodded, but in his mind thought: WHAT THE FUCK? He didn’t question CT any further. After all, he is THE CRAIG.

11.

“My brother {Sheriff Bakanay} is a fuckin retard, he's the bible of F1 knowledge and some PC...but that’s it. F1 Insanity is the biggest bunch of real life no-hopers and dole bludgers all coddling each other’s gonads in search of some masculinity but that cunt Sheriff is too lazy to STAND UP to such deviant behaviour. He’s too busy being a big man in front of SID and Mulcahey. The more I get to know about cocktaker pissants, the more I realize how important retro-active abortion is. He must be killed.’ - Dooly Tilly FULL TRUTHS Philosophy #87

‘Wait here okay?’ Dooly said, as he stepped out of his cab.

‘Will do,’ CT said pleasantly.

Dooly walked up to the front door of the house. He could see THE CUNT’S Mitsubishi Magna sedan parked in the driveway therefore he must be home.

He rang the doorbell and then rolled his eyes at the gay ring tone like he usually does. The Italian anthem sounds good on the podium but it makes for a shitty doorbell ring, Dooly thought. The fucker has to change that eventually, being too much of a fanboy of anything is unhealthy. Sure, Dooly has the limited edition Ferrari F1-2000 Prancing Horse Dildo Apparatus but HE DOESN’T USE IT. NO FUCKEN WAY. HE BOUGHT IT BECAUSE HE IS A CASUAL FAN OF FERRARI AND SCHUMI SUCCESS AND KNOWS IT WILL APPRECIATE IN VALUE OVER TIME...HIS RETIREMENT NEST EGG IS SECURE… STOP LOOKING AT ME IN THAT FUCKEN WAY, YOU CUNT!!!!

A minute or so later the door opened.

The man who answered could barely keep his eyes open as he stood there gazing at Dooly in his half asleep expression. ‘What do you want?’ The man said. ‘Its almost 3 in the fucking morning.’

‘I work the graveyard shift, dummy,’ Dooly said. ‘ Inevitably I would be pissing you off around this time.’

‘You piss me off anytime I see you. I ask again, what the hell do you want at this time of the night?’

‘I want Kwame, Sheriff,’ Dooly answered.

Sheriff Bakanay really woke up to that. ‘Your video?!’ Couldn’t you wait till morning before you picked up your Apprentice tape? Are you really that stupid?’

‘I’M HERE NOW AREN’T I. UNLIKE WHEN I NEEDED YOU. NO MORE FUCKEN QUESTIONS. I WANT RESULTS,’ Dooly demanded.

‘And your Donald Trump impersonation blows monkey balls too.’ Sheriff said as he walked back into the house and through to the living room, searching for Dooly’s ‘The Apprentice’ vid.

Dooly walked into the house. ‘AND EVER HEARD OF PANTS? WHAT IF I WAS SOMEONE ELSE?’ He screamed at the naked Sheriff.

‘It was either you at the door or a very perverse girl scout interested in more than cookies. Either way I was prepared.’

‘Sick cunt.’ Was Dooly’s reply.

Dooly went up to the kitchen fridge and opened the note-crowded door. ‘Don’t you ever go shopping, dopey? There’s no food! ’ he yelled out.

‘Your definition of food is anything that comes in a packet. Try something healthy for a change. There’s a nice bowl of fruit on the kitchen table.’

Dooly closed the fridge and grinned. ‘You are what you eat. GAHAHAHAHA.’

Sheriff walked into the kitchen, this time with boxers on, placed the tape onto the table, then grabbed a cherry from the bowl and chucked it at the cabbie. Dooly caught it in one hand.

‘Going along with your theory; enjoy,’ Sheriff said quietly to him.

‘I DON’T NEED TO TAKE YOUR INSULTS WITH GOOD HUMOUR. FUCK YOUR IMPLIED ALLEGORIES.’ Dooly then shoved the cherry into his mouth and spat the pit back into the bowl.

Sheriff calmly looked at him. ‘You have no manners, Davo. Cucumber?’

‘WHAT?!… NO! YOU KNOW MY PSYCHOLOGICAL HISTORY WITH THAT PRODUCE. QUIT USING IT AS POWER ADVANTAGE AGAINST ME, HUH. BESIDES, CUCUMBER IS A VEGETABLE, DUMBASS.’

‘Cucumber is a fruit, you uneducated cunt. It contains the seeds to reproduce, just like a pumpkin or tomato,’ Sheriff stated. ‘Now keep your voice down.’

Dooly looked at him suspiciously. ‘Why? That bunny you fucked over aiding me is still here? SPEAKING OF WHICH, THANKS FOR YOUR HELP, OH BROTHER OF MINE. I WAS LEFT FOR DEAD IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE. GOD KNOWS WHAT COULD HAVE HAPPENED. WAIT TILL MUM AND DAD HEAR ABOUT YOUR NEGLIGENCE.’

Sheriff rolled his eyes. ‘Quit being a drama queen, Dooly. You’re 36 years old, only a year less than me; I can’t keep bailing you out of every little mess you get yourself into.’

Dooly stood there not saying a word.

Sheriff finally grabbed the tape from the table and shoved it in Dooly’s face. ‘Here’s your beloved Kwame. Now get the fuck out.’

Dooly smiled but didn’t take the tape. ‘You didn’t answer my question. I ASK AGAIN. THE BUNNY: WHO IS SHE?’

‘She’s none of your concern,’ Sheriff answered and pointed his finger. ‘There’s the front door, use it…’

The two brothers heard a noise and looked in that general direction to see a woman standing in the doorway leading to the hall and the bedroom, Ms Biranit Goren, Atlasf1’s illustrious editor.

Dooly recognised her instantly and turned his head in Sheriff’s direction. ‘YOU MORON,’ he screamed at his older sibling.

Bira walked into the kitchen and said to Sheriff Bakanay, while pointing at Dooly, ‘You promised he wouldn’t come here.’

Sheriff threw his hands in the air. ‘What the fuck am I supposed to do if he arrives uninvited? Knock him flying into the street?’

‘Yes!’ Bira answered.

Dooly was barely paying any attention to this exchange. He just kept staring at Bira. He still couldn’t over how… FUCKEN STUNNING SHE LOOKED. There is a stereotypical view of what Bira’s appearance might be in the cyberworld, however theory and reality are usually two very different animals. This was no 500 pound lesbian. Her slim body, tanned skin, and moneyshotable facial features were incredible. She was a dead ringer for Nia Peeples.

Despite Dooly’s manhood having pleasurable ideas, Dooly’s mind knew the FULL TRUTH about Bira. She may look like a tasty GODDESS in a pink throng and one of Sheriff’s Ferrari shirts; nevertheless she was 100% pure bitch… and a fucken slut to top it off…

Dooly broke from his dreamlike state. ‘I have every right to see my brother, COCKTEASE. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE, HEY?’

Bira walked up to Sheriff and threw her arms around him, then looked at Dooly smiling. ‘He’s my brother now, Davo.’

‘INCEST WHORE,’ Dooly screeched at her.

He looked at his brother. ‘Sheriff, what the fuck do you think you are doing? She’s POISON, champ. Like the Alice Cooper song. SHE’LL FUCK YOU OVER LIKE SHE DID LAST TIME, REMEMBER?’

Dooly knew Sheriff would. Melbourne GP weekend 2001 would be hard to forget for many reasons. In particular, Bira’s hippie attitude to sexual freedom. It was impossible to determine how many living creatures she seduced that weekend{to this day Dooly suspects she went beyond just human contact}. The point was it was a fucking lot, and Sheriff was one of the first…. and of course Dooly never got a look in. On the Friday, when Dooly and Sheriff were invited to the big Atlasf1 get together in the grandstands, she and Dooly’s bro went touring the pits, and they ended up going at it like dogs in the back of Paul Morris’ Big Kev VT Holden Commodore V8 Supercar {say that 10 times fast}. She made all sorts of empty promises afterwards and hid all her other encounters from the Sheriff. God knows how. Dooly believed Sheriff was just blinded by his emerging affections for the witch. Couldn’t blame him he supposed, with a body like that rational thought can go out the window in an instant…

Sheriff discovered the TRUTH on the Sunday night during the concert when he found her off in a corner engaged in a threesome with Pascal occupying her throat and Ross Stonefield pounding away at her arse.

After the concert in their hotel room, even a Michael Schumacher victory that same day could not stop the tears flowing from Sheriff’s eyeballs onto Dooly’s shoulder. It was one of the few times Dooly had seen his older brother in such a state and it scared the shit out of him. He never wanted a repeat of that experience AGAIN…. but now it looked like his wish was going unfulfilled. The 1800km road trip home was no fucken picnic either. The cunt insisting on taking the wheel most of the way… transferring his anger out on the fucken road, in excess of 150km/h, in the pissing rain, with Dooly himself screaming… no BEGGING… Sheriff to slow down to a remotely sane speed… DOOLY: AAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHH SLOW DOWN, YOU PSYCHO CUNT!!! YOU’LL KILL US BOTH!!! GGAAAAAAHHHH…

• BOONG*

DOOLY: WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT? SHERIFF: WE HIT AN ABO…

‘Dooly, its none of your God damn business,’ Sheriff said to him. ‘Anyway, she’s changed. She’s no longer the… malicious cat she once was.’

‘Malicious cat?’ Bira repeated in shock.

‘Zwijg. U wilt hem nog weggaan?’ Sheriff said to her quietly through gritted teeth.

Bira shook her head in disgust but didn’t say another word.

‘I refuse to see you DESTROY YOURSELF, FUCKEN ‘TARD,’ Dooly said. ‘THAT’S IT! You have a choice to make. ITS EITHER HER OR ME.’

Sheriff shook his head. ‘Dooly, you don’t understand what’s going on.’

He looked down at Bira. ‘Could you leave us alone for a minute or two?’

‘Sure, I can wait. After all, its no “serious” discussion on ecological new world orders,’ Bira said, then eyed Dooly. ‘Not that I think it’ll achieve anything.’

She turned back to Sheriff and kissed him slowly and sensually. During the embrace Sheriff couldn’t help himself by grabbing a slab of arse cheek. Dooly had to turn away just to avoid HURLING chunks at the two lovebirds.

They parted but before Bira left the room, she spied something on the kitchen counter. ‘Oohhh, some strawberries and cream.’ She grabbed the lolly packet and started wolfing them down, walking back through the same hallway she came from. The Tilly brothers watched Bira as she went, transfixed…. and Dooly drooling just a little bit.

‘She eats and eats but doesn’t gain and pound…’ Sheriff snapped out of his stare and looked to his brother. ‘Dooly, this is between you and me. No backstabbing bullshit this time, okay?’

Dooly sucked up his spittle and waved his hand dismissively. ‘Yeah, yeah, okay. What’s the goss?’

‘Do you remember a gay cunt called Julianmre?’ Sheriff asked.

Dooly thought for a moment. ‘No,’ he said finally.

‘He was one of CT’s biggest fanboys, a real cumswiller,’ Sheriff explained. ‘The background story is he was supposed to be in Vietnam for a year or so, helping the poor kids… well… you know how it goes. Anyway, he turned up just recently in the USA… at Atlasf1 HQ, strapped to his balls in plastic explosive.’

‘AHAHAHAHAHA…dumb slut has seen a lot of things CUMMING, you’d think she’d see that too.’ Dooly said.

‘Well… she didn’t. She was lucky to avoid it before it went off, taking half the Atlasf1 office with it. That’s why she’s here, hiding out until this whole mess blows over.’

‘And you thought you might as well take advantage of the situation huh?’ Dooly responded.

Sheriff ignored him and continued. ‘According to Bira, Julia kept screaming obscenities about semen and eradicating “the opposition” before he committed to his fate. It turns out Juliamnre was part of a recently formed terrorist network called “The Tomouthsee Men” but nobody knows who is leading or financing this group. But I think its pretty damn obvious, don’t you?’

Dooly frowned at Sheriff when he realised what he was trying to say. ‘YOU think its CT don’t you? WELL LET ME PUT THE RECORD STRAIGHT, TRIBADISM FANBOY. CT is a beyond such dirty tactics. He will become a force to be reckoned with, YOU’LL SEE. His enterprise will thrive beyond Bira’s SLITLICKING DYKE FEST and will generate UNMATCHED international success. THE INSANITY TROLLS HAVE BRAINWASHED YOU, FAGGOTY CUNT. DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND? THE CENTRAL THEME OF F1INSANITY IS COCK WORSHIP!’

Sheriff shook his head. ‘You poor deluded bastard. Have you no sense of reasoning, separating the important from the inconsequential? Why do you think Tomalski changed his last name to Thompson? TO AVOID THE POLICE! And that’s not even going into the Silverstone Petition debacle. Sooner or later he will exact rev…’

‘Oh Sheriff….’, Bira cooed.

The Tilly brothers stopped their argument and looked over at her again.

‘FOR …FUCK’S …SAKE…’ Dooly screamed in horror.

What they saw was the AtlasF1 Editor dressed in nothing more than a sombrero on her head, a poncho and a large fake black moustache on her upper lip.

‘Time to ride this bandit outta town, Sheriff. Lets see if your draw is quicker than ya trigger,’ she groaned, then felt under the poncho, obviously exploring and enjoying her own body.

Sheriff continued to stare but said to Dooly, ‘You’ve got to go now…’

Dooly turned his head toward his bro. ‘YOU STILL HAVE THAT FUCKEN MEXICAN BANDIT FETISH? I THOUGHT YOU STOPPED THAT YEARS AGO WHEN WE WERE KIDS AND YOU DRESSED ME UP IN THAT…’

‘OUT! GET OUT!!!’ Sheriff screamed at Dooly.

‘NO, I WANT TO WATCH YOU RUIN YOUR FEEBLE LIFE WITH TOWNBIKE.’

Sheriff started pushing Dooly toward the door. ‘Didn’t you ever see “Good, the Bad and the Ugly”? Three’s a crowd. Now fuck off!’

‘DOES THAT MAKE BIRA TUCO THE UGLY MEXICAN ONE? MUUHAHAHAHA…’ Dooly laughed.

‘You wish, you jealous cunt.’

‘WAIT!’ Dooly said trying to halt. ‘I ALSO WANT BACK MY COPY OF “THE TRUTH ABOUT CATS AND DOGS”.’

Sheriff stopped pushing Dooly and glanced at him with a raised eyebrow.

‘I LIKE JANEANE GAROFALO, OKAY,’ Dooly explained.

‘Yeeeah, suuure you do. More like her cat.’

‘There is only ONE cat in my life and that’s TUBS. WE HAVE AN UNDERSTANDING.’

‘Then go home to your pussy so I can have mine. Pick up your DVD tomorrow.’

Sheriff grabbed Dooly’s Kwame tape and handed it to him. ‘See you then.’

‘YOU’RE PUSSY WHIPPED, MATE. DON’T FUCK WITH DIRTY WHORE! SHE’LL EAT YOUR COCK ALIVE!!!’

Sheriff began pushing him toward the front door again. ‘Bye, bye, now.’

‘BIRA, DO YOU KNOW WHAT INCEST ACTUALLY MEANS?’ Dooly screamed over his shoulder.

‘Out, out, out!’ Sheriff gave his brother one last push out the door. ‘Good night,’ he said to Dooly, and then slammed the door shut.

Dooly stood outside for a moment and in a last ditch attempt, screamed out, ‘I’M ONLY TRYING TO SAVE YOU FROM YOURSELF!’

A few seconds later Dooly was walking back to his cab muttering obscenities quietly to himself; shit about his brother, Bira, and the whole fucked up relationship built on some weird perverted FATAL attraction to one another…God, Dooly desperately wanted that for himself…

12.

‘The "Dooly Tilly" name is a myth, i.e. the notorious aspect of the name. In reality, the real Dooly is just an F1 fan, whereas the collective scum that make up Insanity are responsible for the creation of the Dooly myth...however, I'm the ONLY FULL TRUTHSEEKER amongst these bunch of Cunts, Goose and Galahs. My desire for truth allows me to remain positive in the face of overwhelming odds against the abundant truth-haters.’ - Dooly Tilly FULL TRUTHS Philosophy #7

‘What took you so long?’ CT asked as Dooly got into the cab. ‘I got worried.’

‘Never mind,’ Dooly said sternly. He was about to start the AU2 when something stopped him. He started sniffing the inside of the cab again… it smelt different this time…. like defecation… like shit…

Choga the boong, the cabbie’s mind reasoned. There are just some smells even ol’ Big Kev’s genius can’t eradicate. Yes… that’s what it was…

Dooly nodded silently to himself and turned the ignition….

A couple of minutes later, as Dooly was driving home, he kept thinking of what Sheriff said about the terrorist group and CT’s possible involvement. Hmm….

‘Did you hear about Atlasf1 going up in smoke?’ Dooly asked.

CT looked at him in the mirror like he was gritting his teeth within his closed mouth. ‘Yes,’ he said at last. ‘Rather unfortunate wasn’t it…’

‘Unfortunate that it happened or Bira survived?’

‘What are you implying, Dooly?’ CT said slowly.

‘Umm… nothing.’ Dooly tried to change the subject. ‘HEY, I’ve got something on tape I want you to see. It’s from “The Apprentice” and Kwame has to lead this task in organising a Jessica Simpson concert, you see, and…’

‘SHUT UP!!! JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP OR I’LL BLOW YOU AWAY!!!’ CT started screaming.

Dooly looked in his rear vision mirror in surprise at CT’s sudden outburst. He was even more shocked when he saw CT brandishing a 9mm semiautomatic pistol, pointing it at his head. WHERE THE FUCK DID THAT COME FROM????

‘CT, what the HELL ARE YOU DOING?’ Dooly exclaimed.

‘Silence! And that’s an order!’ CT yelled again, he was shaking visibly, like he had not done this sort of thing before. ‘Watch the fucking road!’

Dooly shut up fast and paid attention to his driving. No telling what the crazed lunatic might do if provoked.

CT grabbed a piece of paper and quickly handed it to the cabbie all the while trailing the gun on him. ‘Go to this address and no fucking scenic routes! I know what you arsehole trolls are about and I’m not taking any chances!’

Dooly slowly took one hand off the wheel to unfold the sheet and peep at the address. ‘WHAT THE CunT? Why here?’

‘None of your business for now. Just keep driving and you’ll keep living.’ CT said through laboured breath. He started rubbing his left arm while continuing to point the gun with his right. ‘I don’t like wasting my valuable time on a piece of shit like you, but then you left me with no alternative.’

‘Why are you doing this to me?’ Dooly asked. ‘I HAVEN’T DONE ANYTHING TO YOU.’

CT laughed. ‘What a crock of shit! You ruined my life’s work, that’s not anything to you? Typical evil troll bastard.’

‘WHA…’

‘Quiet!’ CT yelled again.

He grabbed those same pills he had before and chugged a couple from the bottle. He then bent down and grabbed something from underneath Dooly’s seat. ‘You don’t mind if I have some of your cheap booze do you?’ CT said holding up a mysterious bottle of scotch. ‘No… of course you don’t.’

Dooly barely succeeded in suppressing a laugh. ‘SURE. Drink up, champ.’

CT opened the bottle and started sculling the contents. After a couple of gulps, he spewed it out again onto the car floor. ‘AAGGGHHHH FUCKING HELL! WHAT DID YOU PUT IN THIS THING? DOG SHIT? UGGGH GOD…’

CT quickly opened a back window and started blowing chunks, in particular his airplane dinner: fried chicken and dessert: spotted dick{AKA the male steward’s “protein shake”}. When he was done, he closed the window again. ‘Oh fuck me dead, I’m going to be tasting that for weeks,’ CT said hoarsely. ‘You know, I’ve sucked every faggot cock, rimmed every arsehole, and received hot karl from every queer from here to San Fran but never IN MY LIFE have I tasted something so horrid. Is this the same booze you fucking Aussies export to the world? Dreadful!’

Dooly was curious as to how he missed Choga’s bottle while checking the back before, but he was glad he did.

‘Owww, my fucking heart,’ CT said clutching his chest, then paused for a second, thinking. He looked at Dooly. ‘You tried to poison me,’ he concluded. ‘You tried to knock me off! You knew I was coming here to kill you. Who told you?! I demand to know or I’ll put an end to you right now!!!’

‘Ohhhh FUCK YOU’RE A PARANOID CUNT, AREN’T YOU?’ Dooly said. In his head he kept thinking the F1insanity faggots were right the whole time: CT was insane, more so than himself. Something must be done…

CT then did something that surprised even Dooly considering the situation: CT started to cry.

‘You would be paranoid too if you went through what I’ve had to endure,’ CT said through his sobs. ‘You cunts have destroyed my reputation, my business enterprises, my petitions, my whole damn reason for living.

He looked up. ‘The final straw was my precious Silverstone online petition. WHY, DOOLY? WHY? I was trying to save the most historic, therefore the best GP THERE IS? And lets not forget the significant exposure given to my beloved Grand Prix Magazine dot com venture… Everything was going swimmingly. Normal, rational people were signing up and offering their constructive comments… Until you swagger in with your repetitive bullshit!’

‘Pretending to be all sorts of offensive people… Nazis, the KKK, Dead Jew Stench, Kimi Raikkenon…’ CT waved a hand in the air, trying to recall…‘ and whatisname… H0T KARL Thoroddsen or something,’ he said.

‘Forget Silverstone and concentrate on ME,’ CT mimicked one of the spams. ‘“It is all about ME, you see”…. Over and over again. You are a HORRIBLE person.’ More crying.

After a minute, CT continued. ‘Your fucking sabotage has been causing me a lot of pain and distress. Even my ex-wife and kids refuse to talk to me anymore. My kids believe your FULL TRUTHS over anything I say… my own fucking kids… oohh my heart is breaking, man…’ He sobbed again in one hand.

‘Bernie and the teams never took it seriously. They took one look at it and laughed at me till they were hoarse. I even had a call from F1racing magazine editor Matt Bishop saying he knew all about me and what my real agenda was. I wonder who told him, huh?’ CT glared accusingly at the cabbie.

‘Craig… it wasn’t me, mate,’ Dooly said soothingly. ‘It was Mulcahey, Sid, Gilly, Campy, and the rest of the Insanity CUM SWAPPERS. They have DESTROYED my rep too with their constant spammings in my name…’

‘NO MORE LIES!’ CT screeched out suddenly. ‘Don’t fucking patronise ME! This is where it ends! With you and only you! Kill the head and the body dies! No more fucking around and lapping up yours or anyone else’s bullshit! I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE!’

CT started rubbing his chest. ‘Fuck… this is going to be the death of me, more stress than I need right now … Your reputation is your own. I know that now. No point in denying it!’

Dooly was stunned at CT’s ramblings and knew there was no turning back now, no point in trying to get him to see reason. CT was dumber than a retarded chimp. He gripped the steering wheel tightly in his hands.

Eradication was the only option.

‘Where did you get the gun?’ Dooly asked, genuinely interested.

CT smiled. ‘I have an experimental metal encased rectum and arsehole. A result of 20 years or so of hard anal penetration can do that to a poo pusher like me. Saves me using a butt plug or colostomy bag that’s for sure.’

‘You mean to say that YOU STALLED THE GUN UP YOUR BUTTCRACK FOR OVER 24 FUCKEN HOURS?’ Dooly shrilled.

‘Exactly. I have the appropriate papers and no one at the airport is the wiser. The gun is perfectly camouflaged, and easy fitting too. Problem is my lovers complain it’s like fucking a vacuum cleaner tube…. But they keep on cumming back for more!’

‘FUCKEN NASTY, WEIRDO FAGGOT’ Dooly said. At least that explains the shit smell…

The cabbie suddenly felt the muzzle of CT’s smelly, shit covered gun press against his temple. ‘Now keep driving and I won’t think about blowing your kneecaps off,’ CT breathed into Dooly’s ear.

You won’t need to pretend to be a cripple then hey? Because you would BE one,’ CT laughed. ‘My grandmother used to have a saying: “Crippled body, crippled mind”. And you would be perfect in that regard.’

The feeling is mutual, Dooly thought. He started to laugh out loud.

‘WHAT ARE YOU LAUGHING AT?’ CT said in his trembling voice and backed away. ‘SAY IT QUICK OR YOUR BRAINS WILL BECOME PART OF THE SCENERY!’

‘I was just thinking about all the times I FUCKEN spammed your forum and petitions with PURE TRUTHS. Your reactions were classic and I’D DO THEM ALL AGAIN! NO HESITATION. DO THEM IN A FUCKEN HEARTBEAT! By the way, how’s YOURS?’ Dooly bellowed a laugh again. He could sense a tinge of fear in CT’s voice, even though the cabbie was in the worse position.

‘HA! I knew it,’ CT said boldly. ‘You won’t get away this time. You ruined my LIIIFFFE…I’m going to rip your fucking head off and shit down your neck. That’s a promise. The state of my heart is the least of your worries... HEY, a school!’

On their left they passed a Reception to Year 7 Private School, with CT in the back of the AU2 eyes wide open, taking it all in. He pulled out a hanky and started wiping the loose spittle drooling out the side of his mouth….’

‘A shame its not open yet… but it will be in the next couple of hours. Plenty of time to rid myself of you,’ CT grinned. ‘I’ve always had a hankering for some of that famous Aussie lamb,’ he winked at Dooly.

ERADICATION….DUMP DUMP DUMP…

‘I thought you fuckers didn’t eat lamb,’ Dooly said calmly.

‘That’s pig, you dumb shit,’ CT corrected him angrily. ‘We Jews don’t eat anything from a pig. We believe it is sacrilege. You are what you eat.’

CUCUMBER? OR MAYBE A COCKROACH, COCKROACH?

‘At least pigs DON’T FUCK KIDS.’ Dooly screamed.

‘And how do you know, Mr Magoo? Have you researched their activities? Have you ever sat naked while a scout dripped hot candle wax up and down your thighs… uh… HAVE YOU watch a pig’s movements 24/7?’ CT said in all seriousness. ‘Pigs are smart fuckers. Didn’t you ever read “Animal Farm”? They should not be underestimated. They can rule entire empires if they really want to… the whole world…’

?????????????????????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCK SAKE…

‘…Beady little eyes that stare at you from their pens… making you bloodthirsty… they won’t take over us Jews and our hold on the world, that’s for sure… there can only be one master race…’ CT continued to dribble while rubbing his arm again… Dooly wasn’t even sure Tomalski was talking to him anymore.

FIRST OPPORTUNITY YOU GET. TAKE HIM DOWN. KILL HIM. KILL ALL OF THEM ALL!!!!!!

‘Why… did you try to kill Atlasf1?’ Dooly asked. More to confirm what Sheriff said before than anything else.

CT eyed him through the rearview mirror. ‘Competition is for chumps, especially if you can’t compete. I need to eliminate them all in order for my organization to thrive. It is the Jewish way: kill the opposition, create a monopoly and nothing can stand in your way. Through my Tomouthsee Men group and the Silverstone Petition I was able to do that. That bitch Bira had it coming anyway. I’m surprised no one has tried it before. Unfortunately it looks like I’ll have to try again… If only I knew where to find her…’

CT looked through the front window. ‘There it is. The gate is open so they’ve arrived. Excellent. Turn off here.’

Could this night get any worse? Dooly questioned in his mind.

The answer: Oh yes it can….

Campy Tilly Posted: Mar 7 2006, 01:36 PM

Administrator

Group: Admin Posts: 348 Member No.: 1 Joined: 5-March 06

13.

‘I'm 98kg of muscle and have developed my own streetfighting style{I call it UFC hybrid}...how about you tough guy? “What is UFC?” I here you say. UFC is a tournament, and the most successful fighters use what I call UFC hybrid, which is basically MMA{Mixed Martial Arts}.....so I'm really just coping the proven styles I saw{I have 20 tapes}. My style is basically a combination of kick-boxing and Brazilian Ju-Jitsu... however, I have a back injury and have had to delay my training, although I'm still able to train, but not at high intensity.’ - Dooly Tilly FULL TRUTHS Philosophy #3

Dooly Tilly had a really fucking bad feeling about this, but for now he had no other options. He turned left and drove through the Brookfield Cemetery gate and down the road. He steered slowly passed the marked graves and funeral parlour.

Behind him, CT felt his neck with his flaky gunless hand. ‘Hell, my blood pressure is still high. Over 160… the average for someone my age is under 140,’ he started to cry again. ‘I shouldn’t be in fucking tears while I am taking blood pressure tablets. But the pain you guys have caused me… you and you’re Insanity mates are a lovely bunch, salt of the fucking earth…’

CHRIST, DOESN’T HE EVER SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!! Dooly thought.

CT stopped crying and wiped away his tears. ‘…this is seriously damaging my health, it ends now. Tonight. With you… Stop here.’

Dooly stopped the cab in the middle of the cemetery.

‘Turn off the car and get out… SLOWLY,’ CT said, continuing to train the gun at the cabbie.

Dooly did just and closed the door, waiting for further instruction, and a possible way out of this mess. If only he could get access to the trunk…

‘Are you just going to kill me here? In cold blood?’ Dooly asked.

‘No, I am a spineless coward but I have something special planned. We all do.’

‘We?’

CT grinned. ‘You’ll see.’ He directed a finger towards a spot that was clearly lit within the tombstones. ‘It’s that way. Stay ahead of me.’

Dooly started walking when suddenly he heard gun shots. He instantly hit the ground and covered his head with his hands. When the firing stopped he looked up to see his AU2’s engine hissing and steaming from a few bullet holes in the side front panel.

‘Just in case you miraculously escape and get any ideas,’ CT said, pointing his gun back towards the cabbie. ‘Now get up and MOVE!’

They both walked until they came up to the clearly lit site.

‘Hey CT! You’re here!’ Peter shouted out from nowhere.

He ran up to CT and gave him a hug. ‘You’ve got him. We’ve nearly got the tomb finished. It’s almost over isn’t it?’

CT pulled away from the hug and said, ‘Yes, the troll menace will be gone tonight. With HIM. We’ll bury him alive 6 feet under, giving him just a small taste of the pain he’s cause me… ALL OF US.’

Off to one side, Dooly said, ‘YOU FOOLS. DO YOU REALLY BELIEVE THE SPAM ATTACKS WILL CEASE WITH ME? YOU ARE DELUSIONAL, COCKTAKER TRASH. I AM SPEAKING THE FUCKEN TRUTH HERE.’

‘I think not,’ CT stated to him. ‘The F1Insanity gang point you out all the time when attacks occur. I have no reason to disbelieve their claims that you are the lead provoker. After all, it is your style.’

CT glanced at Peter, who was also trailing his own 9mm pistol at the cabbie. ‘Come on, let’s group with the others.’

The three of them walked towards an open grave.

‘Hi Craig!’ Quetzalcoati said halfway to their destination. The vegemite trannie Dooly encountered before somehow managed to escape Blue’s wraith. ‘I see you have him.’

He looked and smiled at Dooly. ‘Hopefully we’ll get to finish what we started.’

Quetz was standing over Scopevale as he was orally sucking him a good one. Scopey released himself from Quetz’s manhood and gasped for air. ‘You’re one of the trolls who hates us homos,’ Scopey accused Dooly angrily. ‘You people make me sick!!!’

He turned his face up to Quetz’s, while stroking his sausage, and said, ‘Oh yeah… your wart-ridden cock feels so good in my mouth.’

Dooly could feel the bile rising to his throat but refused to give in to his body’s demands and it thankfully subsided. He thought about how close Quetz’s infested penis came to being lodged in his sphincter, giving the cabbie itchy, itchy genital warts for the rest of his life. TOO FUCKEN CLOSE…

Dooly was shoved from behind. ‘Keep moving,’ CT demanded with the gun in front of him. ‘Then stop at the open grave.’

They approached the grave and saw the blackie JJ Bowe and Mr. Coool himself Bryan standing over, not doing anything except looking down into the pit. CT’s other inner circle anal buddies DawnF1, James Chitty, Robert and Kristian were also around the place. Kristian???

CT turned to Peter. ‘Why the fuck is he here? You know how shit faced he gets.’

Peter shrugged his shoulders. ‘I don’t know. Just went along with the crowd, I suppose.’

‘I fuuffflcla cum ‘ere to kil cabbs,’ Kristian said in his drunken surly state, while holding a can. He staggered past both faggots, slurring more incoherent bullshit.

‘He drank all the alcohol,’ Peter said. ‘So we gave him some paint thinner we found in the back of our truck. He seems content.’

‘Good idea,’ CT nodded in approval. ‘Keeps the arsehole out of the way at least.’

‘GSGSGAAAWFOFVGSKUUUKG<MVAQWWPRKQ#@#$!%!^MK’ Kristian said, then took another scull of his beverage.

‘What are you two queer fuckers doing fart arsing around?’ CT said to the two fags standing over the grave.

‘Sorry, dude,’ Cooool Man Bryan said, leaning on his shovel. ‘Our compadre Zerter decided to catch some waves, man.’

CT screwed up his face. ‘What the fuck are you on about?!’

‘What he’s trying to say is Zerter is endeavouring to raise the dead,’ JJ Bowe said.

Dooly heard groaning sounds of effort coming from 6 feet down the grave. CT, Peter and Dooly all looked in. Dooly couldn’t help himself, he fucking puked his guts out all over Bryan.

‘Aaaagggghhhh, bogus, bud!’ Bryan yelled and tried to avoid the rest of the spray.

The coffin within the grave marked ‘Here lies Edwardo the Pedo’ was open with Zerter having a taste of necrophilia heaven, riding the poor stiff’s arse for all it was worth.

‘Uuhhh… yeah…,’ Zerter moaned. ‘Hey, CT you should try this! It’s like eating a motel mint: tasty yet eerily cold and soothing at the same time.’

‘You dirty fucking whore!’ CT screamed at Zerter. ‘Look what you’ve done! Fucking messed up the coffin and body when I specifically said not to!’

CT grabbed his pills again and swallowed a couple. ‘More stress than I need at the moment. Okay, calm, relax, use your breathing exercises, uuuhhhhmm, haaaa, uuuhhhmmm, hhhaaaa. What to do. What to do. Think Craig, think… Jesus Christ…’

‘…uh… you’re not Christian,’ JJ Bowe said.

CT swung out a hand and smacked JJ Bowe across the head. ‘Shut up! It’s my fucking life… What’s left of it anyway! Now dig me another God damn grave!’

‘Why do I have to do it?’ JJ Bowe whinged while rubbing his bald head. ‘I’ve slaved away for 4 hours doing this one already.’

‘Because digging is NIGGERS work,’ CT sneered at him.

The tears flowed freely down JJ Bowe’s cheeks. ‘You know how I HATE that word!’ He said.

‘Shut your shit hole or I’ll revoke your mod privileges,’ CT threatened coldly. ‘Now dig up…’ he looked at the grave next to Edwardo’s… ‘Lord Plye Wood, he sounds important, must have a decent coffin. Work that ass, DAWG!’

JJ Bowe did as the white man told him to, digging his heart out.

CT looked down at Zerter. ‘Like it dirty do ya, Dave? How’s this then?’

He unzipped his pants, pulled out his 9mm {cock} and let go a rain of golden liquid onto the necrophilic’s head. ‘Uuuhhh yeah…’ Dave moaned, pumping the corpse faster, breaking one of its legs off in the process. ‘Give it to me, baby. Give me that sweet golden man-made moonshine, yeah…’

CT smiled and looked at Dawn. ‘You know, my bitchface ex-wife never let me do this sort of shit to her. She always thought it was sick and perverted, that’s why I had to sleep in the spare room those last few years. Fucken slut. The last straw was my insistence of her wearing the woman garments of a sand nigger; she wouldn’t give in. She knew my fetish for power play acts when she married me, but the dumb bitch had the divorce papers on my desk that Monday morning. Fuck her…. Then you entered my life, Dawn, my sweet…’

Dooly Tilly was dry heaving at this point but his stomach wouldn’t stop his contractions. He finally got it under control and looked at the couple gazing at each other.

‘WHAT THE FUCK??? YOU DUMPED ME FOR FUGITIVE SCOUTMASTER, DAWN??? He screamed, confused. ‘AND AS FOR YOU, CRAIG, I THOUGHT YOU SUCKED THE LARGE PINK ONE?’

CT shook the last of the piss out his cock and zipped himself out. ‘I do, I do,’ he confirmed. ‘But Dawn serves a special purpose. Don’t you, buttercup?’

Dawn grinned and looked at Dooly. ‘That’s right. I am carrying his heir.’

‘WHAT?????!!!!!’ Dooly shrilled in shock.

CT put an arm around Dawn and looked at the cabbie. ‘Well, we don’t know that for sure but we’ve been trying to conceive for quite a while. Not much luck so far I’m afraid.’

‘Poor diet, lack of exercise and obesity reduces your chances to INFECT THIS WORLD WITH YOUR DEMONIC SPAWN,’ Dooly stated the TRUTH. ‘AIN’T THAT RIGHT, DAWN, YOU FAT SLUT.’

Dawn’s smile disappeared. ‘Its glandula,’ she said quietly.

‘MUUUUHHHGGUUHAAHAHAHAHAHA,’ Dooly laughed hysterically. ‘YEAH, AND I REALLY DO HAVE A FUCKEN FOOTLONG!’

‘Need I remind you who can kill who here,’ CT said with his gun, as ever, on the cabbie… same with Peter’s ‘This child, and this child alone, will continue my success long after I’m gone and will inherit all I own.

‘What? Two bankruptcies, a FAILED Net F1 Forum, and an alcohol jarred foreskin?’

CT dismissed that last remark with a slight wave of his gun. ‘I ate my foreskin years ago. During one of my customary depressed states and urgent need for booze.’

‘AARRRRGGGGHHHH… SICK PAEDOPHILIC CUNT.’ Dooly screamed.

Suddenly he had Bryan’s shovel tossed at him by CT.

‘Grab a shovel and start diggin,’ CT said, still pointing his gun at the cabbie. ‘You’re knee-deep in shit as it is.’

Dooly had something else to concentrate on so his sick spell stopped. ‘WHY ME? He yelled in rage. ‘GET COOOOLLL “PARTY ON WAYNE, PARTY ON GARTH” BRYAN TO DO NIG WORK.’

CT motioned the gun at Dooly and pulled the hammer back. ‘You want to argue with me? I’m this FUCKING close to killing you right now,’ he said indicating a centimetre with two fingers.

‘Speaking of, how’s that Swedish PENIS enlarger been going, huh?’ Dooly enflamed.

CT fired a shot at the cabbie. Dooly yelped out and grabbed his ear as the bullet slightly grazed the tip.

‘Damn I’m such a shit shot,’ CT said looking at his gun in disgust.

‘FUCK FUCK FUCK!’ Dooly forgot about his ear, grabbed the spade and started digging.

‘Awesome, man,’ Bryan declared. ‘Time to catch me some rays. Shah!’

He took off his puke-covered shirt, revealing his skinny pale white girly body and laid on the existing dirt pile. He then grabbed a pair of sunnys and leaned back to enjoy the sun.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and looked at Bryan at the same time, then at the still dark sky and back at Bryan again.

‘Christ…,’ CT broke the silence. He then quickly looked at JJ Bowe and extended his hand again when he saw the darkie was about to speak. JJ Bowe quickly started digging again.

‘Chitty!’ CT yelled at James who was sucking passionately on Robert’s weaner of manlove. ‘Get your arse over here and start digging too… Robert, you as well!’

They stopped what they were doing and walked over to where CT was standing. CT handed Chitty a shovel.

James looked at it and then back at CT, puzzled. ‘What am I meant to do with this?’ He asked.

‘Throw it at Zerter… REALLY HARD,’ Dooly suggested, as he continued his digging.

To the surprise of everyone, James Chitty did just that. He javelin threw it at Zerter and a sicking cracking sound was heard as it skewed halfway through his skull, resting there like a real javelin in the ground.

There was a moment of silence as everyone crowded around the grave looking down. All that could be heard was Kristian’s insane ramblings in the background.

‘I think he’s dead’ Robert said at last.

‘Well no shit, Sherlock’ Peter said in response to Robert.

‘Captain Fucking Obvious,’ Dawn affirmed.

‘Cooool, a dead body!’ James said like he was noticing it for the first time.

‘Hey, I’m the only coool one around here, dudes,’ Bryan put in. ‘That daddo is froze!’

‘This is fucking great, this is,’ CT said sarcastically. ‘Now we’ll have to bury him too. You haven’t been the same since that Silverstone petition, James. What the fuck is wrong with you? F1Insanity’s shit flying finally fried your brain?!’

James looked at him, puzzled. ‘Silver… Cone? What???’

‘The Silverstone GP Petition!’ CT yelled in his face. ‘The reason we’re out here in the fucking first place! Remember?!’

‘Wait a minute…,’ James said looking at CT in surprise. ‘They have a race at Silverstone?!’

‘Hey, whash the fukin madda huh? The drunken Kristian said, arriving late. ‘Fuken pansy asshhh mouthafukAAAHHHHHHHHHH…’

Kristian tripped and fell 6 feet on top of Zerter’s urine soaked body with a sicking thud. He stopped moving as well.

‘I think he’s dead too’ Robert said.

‘Well no shit, Sherlock’ Peter said.

‘Captain Fucking Ob…’

‘SHUT UP, ALL OF YOU!!!’ CT screamed at the top of his lungs. He started feeling at his chest area and breathing hard. ‘Okay, relax, caaaaallllmmmmm, breathe in uuuuhhhmmmmm, breathe out hhhhaaaaaa.’

CT stopped to think for a second then said. ‘Okay. Forget this. Concentrate on the other grave for now. We’ll worry about Kristian and Dave later… Heeellllooo, Dooly and Bowe, I don’t hear digging!’

Dooly and JJ Bowe continued their almost pointless exercise.

‘What if Tilly doesn’t fit?’ Robert asked.

‘No problemo, man.’ Bryan said

He knelt down and grabbed a chainsaw and showed it to Robert, patting it lightly. ‘He’ll fit, Texas style,’ Cooooool said.

‘Work harder, troll!’ Dawn demanded Dooly. ‘We want to get you in the ground by sunrise!’

Dooly stopped digging and looked at her. ‘I am no TROLL. I am ABOVE such mythical abominations. FUCKEN GOT THAT?’

‘Oh Yawn,’ Dawn said rolling her eyes. ‘No one wants to hear your life story, Imitation Cripple. Dig! Dig! Dig!’

Peter and James grab a couple more spades and started shovelling dirt into the large pile. Robert was about to do the same when CT grabbed his arm.

‘Oh no you don’t,’ CT said smiling. ‘Time for me to do a little digging of my own.’

He ripped down Robert’s pants and forced him to bend over. Robert screeched out when CT’s thrust himself inside. ‘Yes… squeal, Miss Piggy. You’ll make a great GPM admin one day, Rob.’

Dooly tried to ignore them as CT started his jackhammer shit stabbing but it was so nearby and he could smell the shit flying out of Robert’s arse during the thrusting motion. Sweet Jesus…

‘YES! CT screamed at Robert. ‘MOVE THAT ASS! MOVE IT! MOVE IT! MOVE IT! LET ME FEEL THAT BUTT!’

Robert complied, yelling in pain that could also be interpreted as pleasure. Who really fucken knows with these cockeating queers? The torture continued for a few more seconds until…

‘Come on, Dawn, baby! Here it cums! Supper for one!’ CT said through his laboured breathing. He released his yummy, yummy chocolate-coated cock from Robert’s AIDS infested arsehole and straight into Dawn’s willing jaws. CT moaned as he cum inside her hot little mouth. She masturbated his cock with one hand, making sure to get all the juice {got to be sure right?}. She then released herself and looked at Dooly grinning. She open her mouth wide with CT’s cum clearly prominent and then licked her tongue back and swallowed. She then showed her tongue again revealing her magic disappearing act. ‘All gone,’ she said proudly.

Dooly started to dry heave again, releasing only a little bile this time. CAN THIS NIGHT GET ANY MORE PSYCHOTIC FOR FUUUUUUCCCCCCK SAAAAAKKEEE???!!!!!!!!

‘He’s no 13 year old boy or Aido but hey, at least I’m wanted’, she said smiling a brown smile.

Dooly expected Campy and his goat to come over the rise at any moment to save him from this horrible nightmare…

not long now…

yep….

SURELY THIS SISSIFIED GARBAGE ISN’T REAL … NOTHING THIS GROTESQUE WOULD EVEN REMOTELY ASSOCIATE ITSELF WITH REAL FUCKEN LIFE… OOOOOOOHHHHH GOD WHERE’S SUPERMAN WHEN YOU REALLY NEED HIM??!!!!

‘Hey, where did Quetz and Scopey fuck off to?’ CT said all of a sudden. ‘Haven’t seen them again since I got here…’

‘HEY, MR. WWIIIILSON!’

Everyone copied the dead by freezing and then looked over at the new voice, almost expecting Dennis the Menace himself. Instead, it was a group of 5 blacks and one old fat white man sobbing in front of the pack.

‘Thought you wouldn’t see me again, hey Mr. Cabbie?’ the grinning leader Pinjarra said to Dooly. ‘Wait till you see the fantastic Aboriginal Art job we did to your cab. Free of charge of course!’

Big Kev continued to cry. ‘I’m sorry, champ. They forced me to tell them where you were. Have you ever listen to them sing their traditional songs? Fucking torture… booohoooo…. I’m excited!’

Pinjarra glanced back at Dooly with a serious expression. ‘Fucken prick, what have you done with Uncle Choga? He was due back at our place hours ago.’

CT pulled up his pants and confronted the abos (REMINDER: Where real-life historical figures appear, the situation, incidents and dialogues concerning those persons are entirely fictional and are not intended to depict actual events or to change the entirely fictional nature of the work).

Dooly knew this was his chance. The fucken blackies won’t stand for these FAGGOTS… just have to wait until the right moment when they are completely distracted…. All the blacks were carrying old beer bottles full of something else. It was obvious because the fuckers weren’t drinking the substance within, just chroming up the fucking fumes. One darkie was also carrying a big slab of beer cans in a cardboard box.

The GPM fags crowded in behind CT.

‘What do you want?’ CT demanded of Pinjarra. Obviously the stupid cunt knew nothing about Australian Aboriginals. And abos high on petroleum fumes at that… AHAHAHAAHA…

Pinjarra glanced at CT perplexed then laughed. The black cunts behind him did too. ‘Clearly you don’t know who you’re fucking with, pommie,’ Pinjarra said after the laughter stopped, ‘so I’ll be nice to ya this once and won’t kick the shit out of ya straight away.’

He directed a finger at Dooly. ‘I want him, then I’ll be outta way so you can continue to suck each other off, fucking queers.’

CT shook his head. ‘Sorry, not going to happen. He’s ours. Now move along and go about your business before things get messy.’

Pinjarra and the rest of the abos behind him laughed out loud again.

‘Aaahhh, shit, man,’ Pinjarra snorted. ‘You really don’t fucking get it do you? This is our land see? We are the original owners. And what we say goes. SO HAND OVER THE CABBIE OR THERE WILL BE TROUBLE, MATEY. GOT IT?’

He grabbed the spout of his beer bottle and slammed it against a tombstone, breaking the bottom into sharp jaggered edges.

CT raised his 9mm {gun } at Pinjarra. ‘And if you know anything about banks and the Jewish conspiracy you would realise that us Jews already own your fucking land. You just don’t know it yet. Besides, I don’t take orders from no fucking nigger.’

‘CT!’ JJ Bowe wailed. ‘You know how I hate that…’

CT sharply twisted the gun around, facing JJ Bowe, and popped a cap into the poor black bastard before he could say another fucking word. JJ Bowe’s head flew back as the bullet penetrated his skull and knocked him to the dirt. Dead.

CT quickly moved the gun back into its former position, pointing at the lead abo.

‘As you can see, I don’t like when I don’t get my way.’

Dooly spied activity from the other abos happening behind Pinjarra, but the angle he was facing prevented from seeing what.

‘Yiddish hey,’ Pinjarra nodded at CT. ‘Well…. I think its about time we… FRY US SOME FUCKING JEWS!’

Pinjarra moved to one side as a beer bottle with a flaming rag poking out the top came hurling past and at the GPM crowd.

CT and the others dived out of the way except clueless James Chitty. The bottle hit full on, bursting him into flames. James screamed in pain, ‘AAAGGGHHHHH, WHAT IS THIS RED STUFF?! IT FUCKING HURTS….’

The Abos charged at the fags, brandishing switchblades and broken beer bottles.

Dooly didn’t wait around to see the outcome, he bolted. Behind him he heard CT’s gun going off and screaming as the abos stabbed their stubbies at the fags or the fags ripped the blacks eyes out. Whatever was occurring, it didn’t sound pleasant.

The cabbie raced past all the graves and memorials back to his cab. When he was in sight of his AU2 he stopped dead and just stared at the mess.

‘UURRRGGGHHHH, SICK TWISTED BLACK CUNTS!!!’ Dooly screamed in horror at the carnage.

The Aboriginals had done what they promised: a once over on the Falcon.

Dooly slowly walked up to his former office and inspected the damage. Tyres slashed, windows smashed, dashboard crashed, seats ripped to tatters, and….

On all sides of the white taxi was the word ‘TRUTH’ written in a substance that was obviously not brown crayon. THEY LITERALLY MUST HAVE SCOOPED IT UP IN THEIR HANDS AND SMEARED IT ACROSS THE BODY WORK LIKE LIP GLOSS. HAVE THEY NO SENSE OF DECENCY? SHIT… SHIT EVERYWHERE…!!! DO THE FUCKEN BOONGS STORE IT FOR DESTRUCTIVE PURPOSES OR WHAT?!

Dooly felt into his pocket and grabbed a hanky. He covered his nose and mouth with the piece of cloth and approached the boot.

All of CT’s luggage was pulled out of the trunk and emptied onto the ground. Whatever looked valuable the fuckers must have flogged. All of Dooly’s vacuum cleaner extensions and Wendal Sailor collection were still scattered around the place. The cabbie didn’t know whether to be relieved or insulted. What was left of CT’s gear wasn’t much use: a cheap looking business suit, a Dutch tourist guidebook, a giant mombassa, a few dresses and skirts…. AAGGHHH FUCK…

Dooly swung his head away as he saw a small bag full of spilled photos. Kiddie porn.

The cabbie knew what he had to do. He glanced into the now empty trunk and was relieved to see the wheel jack compartment off to one side was untouched. THANK GOD FOR SMALL FAVOURS…

He twisted the knob on the compartment lid and threw it to one side. Dooly then pulled out his trusty Beretta 303 semi-automatic shotgun and a box of 12-gauge shells. Tipping the box’s contents onto the trunk floor, he then started loading the gun chamber with the 12-ga shells and stuck the rest into his shirt/pants pockets.

Dooly bought the Beretta 303 back in 1996 just after the events of Port Arthur and before the strict gun law restrictions went through parliament. He purchased it used off some yobbo feeding his gambling addiction. The poor cunt was so desperate that he sold it incredibly cheap and didn’t even bother to check for the right papers, so it was unregistered and off the books. No one knew it existed and that’s how Dooly liked it. He knew it would come in handy one day and this was his day of reckoning. He liked the semi-automatic part best because he privately feared going into ‘battle’ not being able to use a pump action properly. Plus, it reminded him of Wendal’s FOOTLONG: Black, immaculate and ready to strike… AHAHAHAHAHA…

Suddenly Dooly Tilly heard someone running towards him. He quickly swung the gun stock up and smacked the charging cunt straight in the forehead, leaving them unconscious on the ground. Dooly knelt down and observed who it was. ‘FUCKEN HELL, KEV. COME OUT OF NOWHERE… YOU SCARED THE LIVING SHIT OUT OF ME.’

Dooly left the possibly dead Big Kev behind and made the journey back to the ensuring battle between the Blackie Spear Chuckers and the GPM Cum Swillers.

Only… the battle appeared to be finished by the time Dooly returned to the scene. He held his shotgun up in the same pose Big Arnie does in his flicks and surveyed the site. No one was about. It was deserted…

Dooly looked at the ground where the abos first attacked and saw part of the reason why. All 5 had been butchered by the GPM fags. The cabbie could see 3 of them had bullet holes ridden throughout their bodies. Clearly their shitty handmade weapons were no match for CT’s 9mm.

‘Just like colonial times, huh, darkies,’ Dooly said at the indifferent corpses. ‘You cunts couldn’t compete with the firearms and might of the British Empire. 200 hundreds years of evolution later and you still haven’t learnt your fucken lesson.’

Dooly also noticed James Chitty smouldering body to one side, clearly not with the living this night. And Peter, who obviously had a disagreement with a broken beer bottle, was lying under the night sky, pale as the moonlight shining down on him. If Dooly had looked closer he would have noticed Pete’s gun missing but he didn’t…

Dooly could not see the rest of the GPM fags anywhere. They had just disappeared.

For a moment, Dooly Tilly felt like Ash from the Evil Dead Trilogy {NOT Pokemon, you childish cunts}: Brandishing a shotgun, waiting for evil to strike out at any moment, possibly the dead themselves… wait that’s going a bit too far…

Of course, Dooly didn’t have Ash’s snappy one liners or Bruce Campbell’s finely chiselled features but…. WHAT THE FUCK WAS THE POINT OF THIS PONDERING THOUGHT AGAIN?

‘I’LL SWALLOW YOUR SPERM, I’LL SWALLOW YOUR SPERM, I’LL SWALLOW YOUR SPERM!’ A raspy voice screamed out from behind the cabbie.

Dooly slowly glanced behind him and saw Robert open-eyed, drooling, and completely off his nut. ‘‘I HAVEN’T FUCKED ANYONE IN THE LAST 15 MINUTES AND I’M DESPERATE. YOUR ARSE IS MINE, TRUTHSEEKER!’

The faggot screamed out and charged at the cabbie.

Dooly didn’t fuck around; he aimed the broomstick at the weirdo and blew his insides through his back. Robert pissed out blood as he slowly stopping his charge and then finally collapsed on a marked graved.

Dooly was grabbed from behind by his arms in an attempt to restriction his movement.

Dooly swung around sharply and flung Scopevale into a gravesite fence while Quetzalcoati continued to wrestling with the cabbie. They fought for control of the gun, moving back and forth, like some fucked up improvised dancing moves. Dooly, using his brain for once, let go and swung a fist into the side of Quetz’s head, prompting the trannie to scream out in pain and let go of the gun too. Dooly caught the weapon on the way down to the ground and then slammed the wooden stock full into the shemale’s chest, triggering the faggot to collapse onto the dirt.

Dooly spotted Scopey approaching out the corner of his eye and positioned the gun his way and fired. Scopevale’s shovel welding hand exploded from the 12-ga impact in to a bloody mash of meat and bone.

Scopey screamed out in shock at the useless bloody stump that was his former right hand, then the pain became too much and he promptly fainted.

Suddenly, two arms wrapped around Dooly’s shotgun from behind and slammed it against his neck. Quetz breathed laboriously into the back of Dooly’s neck as they both struggled for control once more. Dooly was trying to stop the barrel from pressing into his throat, choking him to death but having little success. This sicko trannie was tough… and Dooly could feel his erection the whole time… HIS WART RIDDEN ERECTION…

That was when sunglasses wearing Bryan came out of nowhere with his chainsaw in one hand.

Dooly and Quetz stood for a moment in surprise as Bryan started the chainsaw up and gave it a little gas. The sound was rusty and not at all pleasant to Dooly’s ears.

Dooly struggled once more, realising what Coooolman’s intentions were, but Quetz, realising also, held Dooly in the one spot, waiting for the cabbie’s impending doom.

‘Now just relax and let “Coooolll as a Cucumber” do his work, ‘Quetz breathed into Dooly’s ear. ‘Do not fear, it is a sharp saw,’ he reassured.

Bryan swung the chainsaw up like a bat, pressed down on the throttle and cut an arc straight at the cabbie’s neck. At the last moment, Dooly slipping on the rocky gravel, released himself from the shotgun and fell onto his arse. Bryan missed Dooly by millimetres, clipping off Quetz’s head instead. Blood showered in all directions as Quetz’s neck exploded in a shocking crimson volcanic eruption. The shotgun once more fell into Dooly’s grasp. He quickly swung the muzzle at Bryan’s face, pulled the trigger, and blew those silly shades into the next world.

Both headless faggots collapsed backwards onto the dirt, one after the other.

Dooly sat there breathing heavily, not realising at first that he was covered from head to toe in the red blood of the trannie and the Kiwi gay. The thought of catching AIDS didn’t seem to worry him at that particular moment in time. He tried to get up, but felt a sharp pain rising up from his lower back. That fall didn’t leave him completely unscathed.

He felt at the pain and slowly rose, using the gun for leverage. When he was up, he surveyed the destruction.

The sissy fuckers sure piss out a lot of the red stuff, Dooly thought.

• BANG* *BANG*

The tombstone next to Dooly’s right leg puffed up powder as a bullet penetrated the stone material. Dooly instantly dived in behind a larger stone marking as a spray of bullets from CT’s guns (one he recently acquired from Peter) followed in succession. Dooly fired off a shell in the general direction of CT’s shot . It exploded on a clump of dirt near the hiding coward.

It went on, explosion after explosion as the Truthseeker and the Cockroach fought it out. Blowing apart tombstones and other grave markings in an attempt to destroy each other. Suddenly CT’s guns click in his hands, he was finally out of caps.

‘BWWWWAHAHAHAHAHA,’ Dooly laughed, hearing the clicking sound. ‘YOU’RE COMPLETELY FUCKED NOW, BOY. I WANT YOU DEAD, YOU WORTHLESS SKINNY EUROTRASH COCKISSER!’

Dooly stood up form his hiding spot and walked toward CT’s, gun aiming straight at where he was hiding. CT feebly ditched both pistols at Dooly’s head, missed, and quickly dived for cover.

Suddenly Dawn jumped out from behind another massive tombstone and jumped onto the cabbies’ back. Dooly let go another random shell out of pure instinct as he fought to get Dawn’s mass off him. She was trying to beat into him but not having much success in between the struggling.

During the wrestling, CT came out of nowhere and kicked the shotgun out of Dooly’s grasp. In that instant Dooly used his free hand to shove Dawn off. She tumbled into the side of a marked grave and smacked her head on the stone, rendering her unconscious.

Dooly quickly turned back toward CT and froze; it was too late. CT grinning his freaky smile as he aimed the business end of Dooly’s Beretta at its owner. ‘Vengeance is mine, motherfucker,’ CT said.

• Click*

CT’s smile vanished. He pulled the trigger again.

• Click*

Dooly patiently bent down and grabbed one of the GPM shovels as CT continued to dry fire the semi-auto shotgun. The cabbie then spun the shovel around in his hand and about himself, resting just underneath his right arm, with the left held out in front of him. ‘I am a K… I mean, U-F-C Hybrid Specialist,’ he said. ‘TIME TO DOWNGRADE YOU TO PS1, JV FUCKEN FANBOY.’

CT stopped trying to fire the gun and threw it to one side. He smiled. ‘Do you really think to destroy me so easily, TRUTHSEEKER? I know everything about you, including your weaknesses!’

He grabbed an object from his pocket and held it out to the cabbie.

Dooly stopped in shock.

Craig smiled smugly. ‘What’s the matter, Dooly? Can’t stand your greens?’

The GPM Entrepreneur stabbed the cucumber threateningly at Dooly.

The cabbie yelped and backed up a step, holding the shovel up as if to protect himself.

CT laughed at the TRUTHSEEKER’S response. ‘That’s right, fuckhead, I know all your strengths and weaknesses. Though puzzling and shrouded in mystery, your fear of the infamous cucumber is well known. Perhaps it is like a vampire to garlic. Is that it?’

Dooly did not respond, only continued to look at nature’s dildo in Tomalski’s grasp. CT continued to move forward with the veg… FRUIT ahead of him.

Out of nowhere, Dooly suddenly arched back and swung the shovel at the cucumber. He smacked it straight out of CT’s hand and sent it flying like a golf ball, toward the direction of the open grave.

Coincidently, the clearly alive Kristian woke from his unconscious state and was trying to pull himself out of the 6-feet deep hole. As he poked his head to ground level, he saw a green missile fly in his direction and screamed in horror. Kristian was quickly silenced as the fucker lodged itself straight into his oral orifice and jammed down his throat. He flew back from the impact and landed once more on the now cold Zerter. As Kristian turned blue, he clutched at his throat in a vain attempt to breathe….

MEANWHILE, Dooly stood there in dumb silence as he slowly realised he just took his first step on the long journey to beating his persistent phobia. If only he knew WHAT provoked him to play Tiger Woods for that split second…

CT was also in shock and didn’t know what to say. Then he screamed out, ‘LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID, RETARD! NOW YOU’VE GONE AND DONE IT!’

He clutched at his chest and started breathing heavily once more. He had the look of someone who feared the punishments that awaited him in the afterlife, of which are surely numerous. Tomalski grabbed his bottle of heart pills and sculled the rest into his mouth and threw the plastic container aside. The medicine appearing to revitalise him as he flicked up another shovel with his foot, catching it in his hands. He glared at the cabbie with a deadly look. ‘I am a master of KENPO, the deadliest martial arts in the world! Elvis Presley used it and he was one dangerous fucker, hounddog! Now for a little less conversation and a little more action!’

Dooly charged at CT with his shovel out in front of him, screaming his warcry {incomprehensible to human ears}. CT was ready for him, in his defensive pose.

One on one. Two masters of their craft. Mortals in kombat. Fighting for the fate of the world……………..

…. who am I fucking kidding here?

They clanged shovels. Attacking, parring, slashing the spade’s blade at each other’s head…

{{{{…..UUGGGGHHHHHH GOD….

….this narrator won’t go into any more description….

…It’s just horrible and pathetic, that’s what it is….

…You know that movie Highlander: Endgame where the Highlanders are all clashing swords and all look like they are doing it through some cheapo slowmo Matrix techniques? In reality, it was in normal motion, those guys just plain sucked. They were just that fucking slow, pretending to entertain its intended audience. This is sort of the same deal. Only, I’m sparing you the shitty details. I should be considered a hero god dammit! Where’s my fucking award ceremony and cheap lay on the side? Anyway, back to the story…}}}}

CT was clearly having a hard time of defending from Dooly’s array of blows {which isn’t saying much I should add}.

Dooly eventually got the break he was looking for and knocked one of CT’s legs out from under him, sending the peddy’s punk-ass to the ground. ‘GAME OVER, FURNACE FODDER!’ Dooly screamed over CT.

He lifted the shovel over his head, readying himself to inflict the final blow.

CT saw this too and held up a hand. ‘NOOO!!! WAIT!!! YOU DON’T WANT TO DO THIS!!!’

Dooly cackled. ‘GIVE ME ONE GOOD REASON NOT TO, CUM STAIN FAGGOT.’

‘Because…. Because… I REALLY AM YOUR BROTHER!!!!!!!’

‘WHAT????!!!!’ Dooly froze in shock and then thought back to that moment in the airport…

In that one instant of weakness CT’s leg came up and squished Dooly’s testicles into his pelvis. Dooly screamed out in pain and grabbed for his ballsack. CT took this opportunity to jump up and smash his shovel’s head straight into the cabbie’s face, knocking him to the ground.

Despite the pain across his cheekbone, Dooly was guarding his testicles for all he was worth. The pain down there was far more intense. Dooly started seeing stars in his vision.

‘Ha! I knew you would fall for that. Haven’t you learnt by now I can’t be trusted?’ CT said over the temporarily crippled Dooly. ‘Now you know how I escaped Sid so quickly. Sure it’s a dirty tactic but like my hero Schumi believes: Winning is all that matters.’

He held the shovel over Dooly’s head, blade pointing down and…

CT was knocked back with such force that two front teeth came flying out of his gob, pissing out blood everywhere. He flew through the air like a bird and then hit the gravel incrusted ground like a sack of potatoes. The Tomalski grabbed at his mind-numbingly painful jaw and looked up in surprise to see who walloped him one.

Blue slowly walked into view, brandishing his sawn off shotgun, flicking the blood off the weapon’s muzzle. He then threw it behind him, rendering himself weaponless and motioned at the GPM leader. ‘Come on, Peddy. I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time.’

CT’s anger at Blue’s humiliating blow got the better of him and he grinded his remain teeth together. In a fit of rage, he launched himself up and charged at Blue with his shovel.

Blue had seen it all before. He waited until the cockroach was right up to him and then, faster than you can say ‘Gas Chamber’, grabbed the shovel and pushed it to one side with his left hand and rammed a fist in the CunT’s face with the other….

Meanwhile, Dawn had woken up from her blow, a little dazed. She observed the scuffle between her mate and the F1insanity troll from a distance, and then spied Dooly’s gun nearby and a couple of shells that just happen to fall our of the cabbie’s pockets during one of his numerous clashes. Dawn crawled over to the gun, grabbed a couple of shells and slotted them into place. She slowly rose and carefully aimed Dooly’s 303 at the Blue/CT brawl (not much of a brawl if it’s a one-sided affair now is it?) and at Blue in particular. She was waiting for the right moment, so there’s enough space between sweetheart Craig and the Insanity Troll….

Dawn felt cold steel on the side of her head, near the eye socket. A clicking of a gun’s trigger being pulled back confirmed it wasn’t a GPM member.

‘I wouldn’t,’ a woman’s voice suggested coolly.

Dawn debated in her head on what to do. The consequences of being caught far out-weighed death, she concluded.

The girl next to her obviously saw the same thing in Dawn’s expression as she brought her batten up with her other hand and smacked the gun’s aim toward the near morning sky.

The shotgun went off, releasing a shell harmlessly into the air. Dawn swung the gun in the direction of her opponent but was met with the butt of a revolver slamming into the centre of her forehead. Down Dawn went, unconscious once more.

By this point, CT’s face was swelling all over from the blows, looking like he had gone 3 rounds with Lennox Lewis (if Lewis had his hands tied behind his back). He could barely stand as Blue grabbed him in a headlock and dragged him to the open grave with Kristian and Zerter inside.

Blue forced CT’s head toward the open pit and said, ‘Look down and take a glance at your future, Yid, because you’ll be sharing a box with these other pansies soon enough.’

CT screamed out in fear despite the pain. ‘NNOOOOO!’ he yelled, trying to struggle free from Blue’s hold. ‘Please have mercy, Blue! I’ll do anything’!!! He started to cry. ‘My heart…’

Seeing the pathetic CunT in this way, Blue only felt disgust. He could easily twist the faggot’s neck sharply and be done with it… so easily… but he made a promise and intended on keeping it.

CT’s sobbing suddenly ceased as Blue pinched a precise nerve on the peddy’s neck, causing him to drift off. Blue spread his arms and let the gay fuck fall in heap on the ground.

He continued to look at the CT as the woman walked up behind him and rested a hand on his right shoulder. ‘I was so tempted,’ Blue said, shaking his head. ‘It took all my will power just to stop, you know, Hales.’

‘I know,’ Hales soothed. ‘I feel the same way.’

When Dooly’s pain was more bearable, he stood up and staggered over to the other two. ‘What the FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?’ He demanded.

Blue and Hales casually looked at the cabbie, who was still holding his balls.

‘Hales here is from British Secret Service, champ,’ Blue said. ‘Jew stench here is a wanted man and she’s been on his case for a while now. Or are you so stupid that didn’t realise that?’

‘OH FUCKEN GREAT! F1INSANITY INFESTATION IN MY BELOVED CITY OF BRISSY. YOU GAYSEXUALS MISSED SYDNEY BY A GOOD 1000 KMS. SO WHY DON’T YOU CUNTS RIDE CT’S ARSE TO AUSSIE SAN FRAN AND FUCK THE HELL AWAY FROM ME. YOU CAN’T MISS IT; JUST FOLLOW THE STENCH OF PRE-DIGESTED CUM OF FREQUENT VISITOR MULCAHEY.’

Blue looked stunned. ‘And?’

‘AND WHAT, DIPSHIT?’

‘A simple “thank you” for saving your miserable, lardarse existence would be nice,’ Blue said.

‘I WISH YOU WERE DEAD. ISN’T THAT THANKS ENOUGH?’ Dooly screamed.

Blue chuckled and then nodded his head. ‘You’re welcome.’

‘JESUS W. CHRIST, YOU’RE A DUM…’. Dooly fell back slightly and quickly tried to correct himself by grabbing onto a tombstone just in time.

Hales rushed over to Dooly and helped him stand. ‘Careful now,’ she said, then looked at Blue. ‘And if you two are done with you’re tiff, I’m a big girl. I can explain why I’m here all by my little self, thank you.’

Blue grinned and held up his hands in surrender.

‘I think… I need to lie down for a bit,’ Dooly said absently, still clutching his swollen nuts with one hand.

‘Get Hales to have a look at ‘em,’ Blue suggested, still smiling. ‘I’m sure she can teabag them back to life.’

Hales gave the ex-cop a dirty look then smiled herself. ‘I’m sure you would just luuuve to see that. Wouldn’t ya.’

Dooly was really going pale. ‘How uh… how did you find out I was… here…’

Another familiar trio walked into view, with Kristian in front with his mouth duct taped shut. ‘Git down there, you nerdy little fuckbag.’ Eff One ordered the faggot and shoved him forward onto the ground. Kristian fell over onto his back, off balanced by Eff One’s handcuffs rapped around his wrists.

Angie arrived on the scene too. ‘Hey, everyone.’

‘Why is his mouth taped?’ Hales asked.

‘The toss tried to bite me,’ Eff One said, looking down Kristian scornfully. ‘”Wait in car”, you two said. “We’ll handle it all”, you said. Well fucking hell, if I hadn’t given you heroes the time of day, you’d have one more loose sick queer on your hands. He was trying to run off when I nabbed him.’

‘Naahhh,’ Blue said. ‘He wouldn’t have gotten far.’ He touched his nose. ‘I can smell the AIDS off those fuckers a mile off.’

The intense pain from Dooly’s nads was subsiding. He shook his head in repulsion at Blue’s comment. ‘NOT EXACTLY SOMETHING TO BE PROUD OF, YOU CRAZED FUCKO.’

‘Fucko?’ Blue laughed. ‘Man, you need some new material, Tilly.’

‘BULLSHIT I DO. TRUTH IS ALWAYS FRESH AND ORIGINAL. I’M THIS CENTURY’S BOB HOPE…. WHAT THE HELL IS ALL THIS ANYWAY? SOME ANAL RELATED CONSPIRACY?’

‘Sort of,’ Angie said. ‘You see, we knew he was coming. This whole set up was planned. Ever since you walked into the airport you have been tagged. All us, Blue, Hales, Eff One and I have been involved in the capture of this cunt. Everything that’s happened after the airport has been according to plan… more or less…’

‘What about my THROBBING NUTSACK, HEY?’ Dooly “said”.

Blue laughed. ‘Yeah, sorry about that. My fault. I just couldn’t stop laughing at you two fags dancing back there. Time got ahead of me.’

‘HAHAHAHAHA, NOT FUCKEN FUNNY, FAGGOT!!!!’

Dooly snatched a pair of Eff One’s disposable gloves from the security guard’s belt and started putting them on.

‘SO THIS IS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO BE ON THE OTHER END,’ Dooly quibbled at Eff.

‘Hey, it had to be authentic, ‘Eff One said smiling.

‘You’re covered in AIDS infested blood and you’re worried about hygiene?’ Hales said.

‘SHUT UP, SCRAG, AND LET ME ATTAIN MY REWARD,’ Dooly bit back.

Once Dooly had the gloves on, he bent down and felt in CT’s pants pocket…….. for his wallet…

‘Tut tut,’ Angie shook her head. ‘Robbing an unconscious sick peddy social worker. Can you get an lower, Dooly?’

‘FUCK YOU,’ Dooly screamed up. ‘ITS MY MONEY, I DAMN WELL EARNED EVERY CENT.’

‘More dollars than sense it appears to me,’ Eff One said.

‘A little more to the left.’

Blue swung his boot across CT’s face, punting the Cockroach unconscious once more.

‘Nighty, night, sweetheart,’ Blue said.

Dooly lifted out fuck knows how much out of CT’s wallet, horded the cash and threw the leather pouch over his shoulder.

He then grabbed his Beretta 303 to check if it was still in good condition.

‘Hand it over, Tilly,’ Blue said, extending his hand. ‘I know how to dispose of it.’

‘DISPOSE?’ Dooly repeated in shock. ‘YOU AREN’T TOUCHING MY BROOMSTICK, MOTHERFUCKING TRANNY KILLING CUNT. DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH I PAID FOR THIS THING?’

‘Not much I bet, you cheap bastard…. Think logically here, maggot. When the cops come, how will it look with all those empty 12 gauge shells spread all over the place and you holding an illegal 303 shotgun?’

Dooly continued to stare at him in silence but the cabbie knew he was right.

Blue rolled his eyes. ‘Look, I don’t give a shit about you. I’m thinking about all of us and you’re brother. It’s your fucking choice if you want to risk it but it certainly won’t look good.’

Dooly eventually threw the gun at Blue, who caught it in one hand, and he started wiping it down for prints with an old oily rag from his pants pocket.

‘Shells too,’ Blue said after he was finished with the wipe down.

Dooly grabbed his remaining shells and gave them to the ex-cop.

Blue carefully placed the gun in CT’s hands (making sure to get a few prints in different places) and the shells in a couple of his pockets.

‘Okay then, ‘Blue said when he was finished. ‘Upon arriving with Dooly as his hostage, CT goes insane with rage for reasons unknown and shoots up most of his gang and the blackie cunts.’

‘Pretty shitty explanation, Blue, if you don’t mind me saying so,’ Hales said.

‘Ah… who cares,’ Blue stated. ‘It’ll work, trust me. I’m too fucking out of it to care much more about the subject anyway.’

‘What’s that poking out of Kristian’s pants?’ Angie asked, looking down at the wide-eyed fag.

The others looked down too. They all saw the mysterious big bulge in the back of Kritsian’s trousers.

‘Probably crapped himself,’ Hales said.

‘No….,’ Blue said. ‘Too big to be a load… Dooly, take a peak.’

Dooly’s eyes flared. ‘WHY ME NOW? I COULDN’T GIVE A SHIT IF IT IS… shit…’

‘Because you’re the one with the gloves now, cabbie boy,’ Eff One said grinning still. ‘And if it is shit you are the only one protected from it. Could be a grenade for all we know.’

Dooly’s eyes rolled. ‘FINE. I’LL BE THE ONE TO ENDANGER MY LIFE THEN. ANYTHING TO GET YOU MANIAC CUNTS AWAY FROM ME AS SOON AS!’

Dooly knelt down once more and lifted up the back of Kristian’s shirt….. and then fell back, fainting dead away.

Everyone else stood there in silence, not sure what to say as a result of the now still cabbie.

‘Hum… okay….,’ Angie said at last.

‘Can anyone explain what the hell just happened?’ Hales said.

‘Cabbie loves dishing out shit but can’t take someone else’s, I guess, ‘Eff One said.

Blue bent down and used his sawn-off to slowly lift the top of Kristian’s pants. What he saw made him fall back and roll on the floor (ground) laughing. The object then fell onto the ground and the other three were let in on the joke and also started laughing. The lump was the cucumber.

Campy Tilly Posted: Mar 7 2006, 01:38 PM

Administrator

Group: Admin Posts: 348 Member No.: 1 Joined: 5-March 06

14.

“G’DAY. My name is Dooly Tilly and I am the FOUNTAINHEAD of TRUTH, the Dracula equivalent so to speak....and my TRUTHS are devastating to weak minds. People who love wrestling are particularly vulnerable to my TRUTHS{real and full TRUTH}. Obviously any dickhead can function in society, but only a handful ever accept TRUTH, and I have the TRUTH{real, full absolute TRUTH}. TRUTH TRUTH TRUTH.”

- Dooly Tilly FULL TRUTH Philosophy #1

TRUTH . . . REAL, FULL . . . ABSOLUTE TRUTH . . .

Dooly Tilly found himself standing in a grey, darkly lit, room with a couple of rows of chairs facing a plate glass window: an observation room. On the other side of the viewing area was another room, brightly lit and sparkling white: clearly a laboratory of some kind.

The door to the observation room open and two men walked in. Dooly was surprisingly calm as the two men, one dressed in a Nazi SS uniform and the other wearing a white lab coat, approached.

Dooly thought he recognised the SS fag but couldn’t decide on who HE actually was specially. The Kraut was either Heinrich Himmler himself or Father Mulcahy from the MASH TV series. Dooly was not a fanboy of either and they look so damn similar that it was hard to tell either way.

The Doctor however was someone Dooly knew all too well because he WAS fanboy… not of the person really but of the series he participated in. The guy in the lab coat was Formula 1’s Gilles Villeneuve himself…

Himmler/Mulcahy smiled at Dooly and presented him with an object. ‘Go ahead take it,’ he said. ‘The Fuehrer says its alright. He says it’s your reward for eradicating the Jewish vermin.’

Dooly looked down at the cucumber and slowly took it in one hand. He spun it around and spied that one end had been chopped off and the inside hollowed out.

‘Protection,’ Himmler/Mulcahy announced gleefully. ‘You don’t want to catch anything do you?’

Gilles V indicated with one finger through the viewing window and at the laboratory beyond. ‘Its time to begin the experiment. Follow me please,’ he said.

Dr. Gilles opened the other door leading to the white lab and walked through with Dooly in tow. Inside Dooly saw a sliver metal table he had not noticed before… and a naked man tied to it, laying face first on top.

‘Attach the apparatus to your anatomy and then proceed,’ the doctor said to Dooly.

The doctor then grabbed a cassette recorder {Cassette recorder in the 1930/40s???} and recited into it. ‘Experiment number 05102004, testing sexual stimulus interaction with natural device on subject…’ Gilles grabbed the unconscious man’s forearm and read aloud. ‘A499965214, middle-aged Jewish man in his forties, bespectacled and balding, well known homosexual/paedophile and failed businessman. Predicted outcome: Who cares?’

The doctor let go of the Jew’s arm and glanced at Dooly. ‘I’ll leave you to it,’ he said grinning, and then left the room, closing the door behind him.

Dooly stood still inside the now silent room and observed the hollowed out cucumber once more, noting how fresh it looked inside. Clearly it had been cut out recently.

He glanced at the seemingly tied up, motionless man on the table, noting the markings on his skin, the red and white rash that looked like he caught something contagious … but Dooly did not seem to care at this point in time. Not one bit.

He was getting hard… really fucken hard in the crotch area, he could feel his pants tightening up. He didn’t know what it was about this helpless but hideous man on the table, but Dooly felt very drawn to him. He knew what had to be done…

Dooly got undressed and then proceeded to stick the hollowed out cucumber onto his penis, like a tight fitting glove.

Dooly shivered at the sensation. He tried to limit his movement, fearing that too much will result in the inevitable ejaculation that would occur.

He took one more glance at the glass observation window seeing the watching eyes of the two Nazi’s looking back at him. Now serious and concentrating at the task at hand, not missing a moment of what was about to ensure.

Dooly didn’t wait a moment longer, he slowly climbed onto the steel table, over the bare-arse man and guided himself inside the man’s ‘pleasure pipe’.

The reaction was instant. The Jew initially started to squirm at the sudden violation but eventually circum to his fate. He relaxed and let Dooly ride him like a dog in heat.

Dooly was in a world of his own. He moaned along with the Jew as he pounded away his makeshift dildo into the fag’s rectal area. The cucumber’s wet interior was doing wonders to enhance Dooly’s pleasure and after a few minutes he reciprocated. He yelled out and bit into one of the scabby red splotches on Jew’s back as he came. Once he had unloaded his cottage cheese into the cucumber, he then slumped on top of the Jew, who did not seem to mind in the least.

Dooly was panting heavily for a few moments before lifting his head to focus on the two observers on the other side of the plate glass.

They also looked at him with serious expressions on their faces, clearly something was going down.

The speakers within the lab blared into life. ‘Your task is complete, Dooly.’

Dooly smiled in satisfaction.

‘However,’ Himmler/Mulcahy said, ‘we feel you enjoyed that a little TOO much. So I’m afraid to inform you that your execution will be effective immediately. Bye-bye.’

Dooly bolted upright from his rest and quickly stepped over to the window. ‘NO, DON’T KILL ME,’ he pleaded to the two on the other side. ‘I DIDN’T ENJOY IT. HONEST. SCOUT’S HONOUR… NO WAIT!!! I DIDN’T MEAN IT LIKE THAT!!!’

‘It matters little now, Dooly.’ Gilles said through the speaker. ‘You have been tainted by the Yiddish scum. That alone deserves the death penalty. Auf Wiedersehen!’

He flicked a button and the next thing Dooly could hear was the hissing coming from the showerheads he did not notice before.

Dooly screamed aloud and banged frantically on the door, trying to find a way out but to no avail. Suddenly, his screaming stopped and became coughing, and finally he was throwing up all over the white clean floor. He couldn’t stop but it become worse when he started defecating uncontrollably.

The Jew on the table joined in, spewing and shitting all over the place, unable to stop the torture that had befallen them both.

The gas that had polluted the room did not kill them both straight away. Oh no. That would be too easy. Dooly and the Jew continued to wail in agony as the torture continued for another few hours. And in this time, the doctor and the SS officer were grinning through the window at their two victims and even laughing at their antics, like a skit from Funniest Home Video.

Finally, the Yid and the cabbie’s bodies could not take it anymore and both circum to the sweet, sweet, release of death.

Even a quick and painless demise has its merits.

.

.

.

Dooly woke. He had the biggest fucking headache he ever had in his life. And it must have done something to his memory too because he couldn’t remember where he was or how he got there.

He found himself constricted to a tabletop. His hands and legs were tied with some rope through a holes in either end of the table. He tried to struggle free but the ropes had him pinned.

‘WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?’ He screamed out.

His voice echoed off the walls of the room. He couldn’t see beyond a foot or two of the table with the only source of light above him seemingly only to concentrate on where he was laying.

Dooly started having paranoid thoughts about alien abductions and anal probes… if only he was so lucky…

A few moments later, a door opened at one end of the room and a man slowly walked in and close it behind him. His footsteps echoed as he leisurely made his way to where Dooly lay.

The man finally revealed himself in the light: It was Craig Tomalski. He had a wide, primitive look in his eyes as he glanced down at poor Dooly. A suggestion of the old ultra violence, Malchicks.

CT grinned his horrible smile and laid his doctor’s bag on the table next to Dooly’s resting place. Dooly watched as CT opened the black bag and pulled out a small leather bound kit and a black stone. The GPM dictator unzipped the kit to reveal a small collection of silver, imposing, surgical instruments.

Dooly couldn’t help himself when he saw the implements of destruction. He screamed like crazy and struggled for all he was worth, but to no avail.

CT trailed a finger over the collection of doctor’s tools and then selected a very harsh looking scalpel. He started sharpening the tool on the black stone, and directed his insane glare at Dooly while he did it.

THOSE EYES. ITS THOSE FUCKEN CRAZY LOOKING EYES THAT REALLY PUT THE FEAR OF GOD IN ME, Dooly realised in his mind. He was entranced.

CT suddenly stopped sharpening and then licked both sides of the blade, slowly and purposely.

‘JUST LET ME GO, YOU CRAZY JEWISH CUNT’, Dooly demanded.

CT only continued to grin and slap on a couple of black gloves from his bag. He walked behind Dooly, grabbed an alcohol swab and applied it to an area on Dooly’s back.

Dooly knew what was coming. He went with the only weapon he had: incessant screaming.

It clearly had no effect on Craig Tomalski as he disposed of the swab and started to massage the area on Dooly’s back.

What scared Dooly more than anything now was not seeing what was really happening behind his back, only having the ability of sound and feel to judge.

Suddenly he felt a sharp pain in his back as CT inserted the scalp, lightly cutting the surface of the skin. Dooly screeched out in pain and pissed out a hot batch of urine in the process.

Although Dooly couldn’t see it, CT’s expression was one of pure joy as he carved a perfect red square in the cabbie’s back. Once he was done, the psycho grabbed one end of the skin square and ripped quickly like a bandaid on a child’s knee.

The square came off with sickening ease, revealing an exposed red square of meat on Dooly’s back. Dooly’s body could not stand the sudden sensation however, and he choked off his last scream and fell silent.

CT thought he had fainted and that was fine with him. He lifted up the piece of raw skin over his head and dropped it into his willing mouth, swallowing with delight.

Miraculously, Dooly was very much awake, hearing and seeing everything that was going around him. His body had gone into automatic shutdown at the sudden pain but his mind was very much alert and able to process all.

The next 20 minutes were hardly highpoints in Dooly’s life as CT dropped his pants and proceeded to fuck every orifice in the cabbie’s body. Pounding away like his life depended on it, planting his seed in any hole he could.

Finally, after so much violation of Dooly’s anatomy, CT climbed up onto the table and entered his victim from behind. He moaned in Dooly’s ear as he stuck the scalpel blade under the cabbie’s neck. Dooly powerless to do anything.

‘When I cum you’re gone,’ CT rasped into Dooly’s ear and then proceeded to ride once more.

45 seconds later, Dooly was left blank eyed and lifeless as his neck gushed out a crimson river of blood over the table and onto the floor, like a waterfall from Hell.

Ain’t life swell?

.

.

.

Dooly Tilly woke with a start. What the HELL was that?! he thought.

He observed his surroundings and realised he was sitting up in his bed with TUBS the cat at his feet, lifting its head at the sudden disturbance.

‘A… a nightmare…. A FUCKEN nightmare the whole time…. AND WHAT A NIGHTMARE!’ Dooly declared.

Dooly wiped the sweat from his brow then stood up and slowly made his way down the hall to the kitchen. The cat overtook him as he made his way out through the bedroom doorway, obviously wanting another feed.

‘ANOTHER ONE, YOU LITTLE SHIT?’ Dooly screeched down. ‘FOR GOD’S SAKE, I ONLY FED YOU A COUPLE OF HOURS AGO. WHAT DID YOU DO HUH? SICK IT ALL UP IN MY CLOSET AGAIN?’

TUBS meowed.

‘DON’T FUCKEN SWEAR AT ME, CAT!’

Dooly made his way down the hall and casually past the lounge doorway then stopped …. And backed up a few steps, looking in…

Dooly’s jaw dropped as he saw what was before him.

Father Mulcahey was perched on all fours on the double sofa as he received 3 separate cocks in his willing mouth: the owners being Wendal, CT, and Pinjarra the retarded abo.

‘Heeeyyy, Cripple! Cum join the party!’

Dooly’s eyes focused on who said that and was standing behind FM: Silly Gilly. He brandished a MONSTER sized bottle of Moet Champagne and was shaking it viciously. Dooly could guess what was coming next and his suspicions proved accurate. Gilly wedged the bottle up the Kiwi Kunt’s butt and allowed the juices to flow freely…

‘YOU FUCKEN FAGGOTS. GET THE HELL OFF MY PROPERTY BEFORE I CALL THE MOST ANTI-GAY COPPERS I KNOW’, Dooly demanded of the weirdos.

The fags continued their ritual of manlove, ignoring Dooly’s threat.

‘THAT’S IT, YOU NUMPTY HEADED CUNTS, I’M REALLY PISSED NOW. FUCKEN OATH.’

Dooly marched over to his basement door and opened it. He took his first step in, intending on finding his shotgun, and fell 12 feet onto the dirt patch that was the basement floor.

He lifted his head off the filthy ground and looked up to see the doorway still visible above him, but no stairs leading down.

He casually got to his feet, brushed himself off, and stood thinking for a second or two, trying to rationise what the hell was going on.

Suddenly he saw movement out of the corner of his eye and quickly swung his head in that direction. There was movement inside his infamous dungeon; someone was inside.

Dooly slowly walked in that direction, then spied a plank of wood and grab for it, holding it in a baseball batters position. He wasn’t going to take any chances with who/whatever it was.

Eventually the figure walked closer to the dungeon bars and nearer to the light to reveal whom it was.

Dooly lowered his weapon. ‘Ohhh… its YOU again…. Wait… I’m dreaming again???!!! NO!!!’

‘Sorry I’ve been fucking with you, Champ,’ Campy said with a grin. ‘Now, its time for you to grow up and face reality… and remember: I would rather die than eat…’

Dooly didn’t hear the rest through his own abusive expletives. ‘YOU DIPSHIT, CUNT FACED, RAT’S TOSS BAG OF A WHORE’S CUNNY MOLE…’

.

.

.

15.

‘CT is a ZIONIST CUNT AND MUST GO IN OVEN. What a fucken silly cunt. The Zionists are the Masters of Discourse, they've brainwashed HIM into thinking they don't exist and he is too stupid to realize it when the evidence is presented. FUCK YOU, CT. FUCK YOUR PANSY AND SISSIFIED GPM. CONSEQUENTLY YOU NEED AN OVEN SESSION.’ - Dooly Tilly FULL TRUTHS Philosophy #272

‘I’m asking this honestly, Dooly: do you pretend to be so stupid?’

A now cleaned up Dooly didn’t even look at Sheriff as the older sibling spoke. He just sat on the cop car bonnet, eyes glazed, looking at nothing. He silently wrapped the blanket he was wearing closer around himself.

While leaning on the car next to his brother, Sheriff shook his head. ‘Sometimes I wonder, Davo. I really do.’

They both waited while the cops and ambulance people done their business in and around the crime scene. Morning was coming as the sun slowly exposing itself to the new day.

A couple of minutes of silence later, Hales walked up to them from the sight of the massacre. ‘Well its unanimous, investigators are blaming the whole incident on CT and his friends, with Dooly as an innocent party. Looks like your in the clear, Dooly.’

‘So does that mean no jail time for him?’ Sheriff asked.

‘Correct,’ Hales confirmed. ‘Of course there will be a big investigation into the episode but there’s no evidence to suggest Dooly was involved, and through CT’s death threat gibberish against the cabbie that seems to confirm it.’

Sheriff let out a sigh of relief. Dooly barely showed any emotion, just kept staring at nothing.

‘Will he be all right?’ Sheriff asked Hales.

Hales smiled. ‘He’ll be fine, just in shock. Don’t blame him after all the mayhem that went on. Be back to his old TRUTH screaming self in no time. Of course, he’ll have to make a statement down at the station eventually, but that can wait a couple of days. I’ll make sure of it.’

‘I’m still not completely sure why Tomalski is here in the first place. I mean, why Dooly? Why now?’

Hales answered, ‘The British Secret Service, in conjunction with the FBI and the CIA, have been tracking CT and GPMs activities for a while now. They uncovered some pretty damning evidence, linking to a child pornography ring, and the recent “Tomouthsee Men” terrorism group. Unfortunately, by that time, Sid got to him first and that caused this worldwide international search for the CunT. That British GP petition had some cleverly encrypted messages disguised as support for the saving of that event. However, they were really orders or links to top-secret information CT did not want everyone else to get their hands one. Dooly, or whoever those spammers were, with their constant shit flying fucked up any chance of CT’s groups to contact each other safely, sending Craig into an emotional tidal wave, health problems and unquenched thirst for revenge. He wanted to eradicate the very person or persons who fucked his so-called life up. Hence why we are all here today.’

Sheriff nodded, understanding. ‘If I had known…’

‘Please,’ Hales interrupted. ‘Best not to say anything at the moment. Save it for later.’

After leaving the grave scene, Blue joined the threesome, carrying the Abos’ slab of beer, he was laughing. ‘Great stuff…. Aaahhh, man,’ he said in delight. ‘Dead blacks and fags everywhere and 4 pedos about to do some serious hard time. I love it!’

‘Sshhhh, quiet down a notch,’ Hales hushed, looking around to make sure no one outside the group heard Blue.

Sheriff couldn’t help but laugh too, the whole scenario just seemed so incredibly crazy. After a moment Hales joined in. It was too hard to resist. Those who just happen to walk by thought they were insane but considering the situation it didn’t seem so bad to let off some steam.

Blue opened the box and said after he stopped laughing, ‘Anyone want a beer?’

‘Do you think its wise to drink some of that piss knowing where it’s been?’ Eff asked.

‘Don’t worry, mate. The bastards didn’t touch the ones at the back. That’s where I’m getting them from. Stubbie anyone?’

‘Love one,’ Eff One said.

Everyone took a beer (which is probably the only sane thing that’s happened in this whole ‘adventure’).

‘Hic. Pardon me,’ Eff let out after one sip.

‘What’s going to happen to CT now?’ Sheriff asked Hales.

‘He’ll become the new mayor of Arse Rape City,’ Blue said.

Hales sniggered. ‘No… alternative arrangements have been made. Besides, UK prisons are already overstaffed as it is.’

‘Don’t you mean “overcrowd”?’ Sheriff corrected.

‘Yes… sorry, that’s exactly what I meant. I must have been thinking about something else,’ Hales smiled again.

Blue shook his head. ‘Fuck, I’m surprised he’s still alive after all those Nitro pills he swallowed. You’d think he’d be dead…’

Hales winked. ‘You would think so wouldn’t you.’

They all looked over at the ambulance where CT was getting his stomach pumped via a tube down his throat {because of the pills or the massive amount of semen beforehand or both, one cannot say with any real certainly}.

‘What is going to happen to him then?’ Blue’s interest in the matter was obvious by the look on his face.

‘Don’t worry, fellas,’ Hales reassured. ‘You’ll all get invitations. Trust me.’

‘Staying tight lipped to what then’, Sheriff concluded.

‘Yep.’

‘Ah okay,’ Blue said. ‘Whatever it is can wait because it must be that fucking good to keep hidden.’

‘I know what it is,’ Angie said.

Hales laughed. ‘Yes. Just leave the guys feeling left out why don’t you, Ang.’

‘Wouldn’t be the first time,’ Angie let slip.

Eff One choked up a mouthful of beer as he tried to suppress a chuckle.

‘Sounds like a story worth listening,’ Sheriff said, grinning at Ang. ‘Inform us of this “first time” and don’t leave out any details please.’

Before Angie could respond, two cops were dragging a lethargic CT away from the ambulance towards another patrol car parked a little way up from the group.

When he saw the 4 others staring at him he grinned a bloody smile. ‘You’re all dead meat. They can’t hold me forever. I’ll fucking kill the lot of you first chance I get. I guarantee it.’

‘Stop, fellas,’ Blue said to the men in blue.

They stopped and continued to hold CT arms, which were wrapped behind his back with handcuffs, so the GPM Owner wouldn’t fall. Blue put his beer aside, stepped up to CT, smiling all innocent like, then ploughed his clenched fist into CT’s chest.

CT bent over in coughing fit while the two cops either side of him held him up from falling.

Blue knelt down closer to CT. ‘What’s the matter, Roachy. Feel a little chest pain again?’

CT stopped coughing and said, ‘I’m going file a complaint against you, Blue, you shit. Police brutally. Everyone here is a witness!’

Blue laughed out loud. ‘I’m an EX-cop, you stupid fuck. Christ, you really are that dumb, aren’t ya.’

‘Dumb enough to lodge a complaint,’ CT said grinning again.

Blue sighed. ‘And who do you think is going to believe a fucking peddy kike like you? Or even want to listen to you in the first place?’

CT’s grin vanished and he just stared into space. TRUTH is hard to comprehend for some.

To one side, the cops were having a hard time restraining CT’s sperm bank Ms. Dawn Tomalski (oops, that just slipped out).

‘Tomouthsee Men will rise again!’ Dawn was screaming as she tried to lash out at her oppressors while her hands were cuffed behind her back.

CT looked up at Blue again. ‘This isn’t over. I swear on my ex-wife’s life that I will have my revenge. Did you hear me, Tilly? I will crush you with my bare hands! You’ll end up knowing what your balls taste like before I’m through with you!’

Dooly continued to imitate a vegetable.

CT smiled. ‘There’s a world outside your window and it’s a world of dread and fear.’

‘Where the only water flowing is a bitter sting of tears,’ Dawn’s nasal voice contributed.

‘Oh no, not that shit again!’ Blue said covering his ears. ‘Get them out of here. Quick!’ he said to the boys in blue.

‘And the Christmas bells that ring there are the clanging chimes of doom,’ the two weirdos continued to sing together until they were finally hauled away. As CT was forced into the patrol car he screamed, ‘I’LL BE BACK! MY SICK SEXUAL PERVERSIONS WILL PREVAIL!!! OOOWWW!!!’

One of the cops ‘accidentally’ smacked CT’s skull into the doorframe. ‘Git in the car, scumbag,’ the cop ordered.

‘Man, that’s just plain creepy,’ Eff One said, as the cop car drove off down the road. ‘For how many years did I stick by that group again?’

‘3 or 4… I think…,’ Hales said. ‘But it doesn’t matter. Good prevailed in the end and that’s all that counts.’

‘Dooly is considered good?’ Angie questioned.

‘Dooly is what “Dungeons and Dragons” geeks would deem as a TRUE Neutral,’ Sheriff said to Angie smiling.

‘Aaagghhh, fantasy bullshit. I can’t stand that crap,’ Blue said. ‘I think that’s my cue to leave. Have shit to do and trannies to kill. The usual.’

Hales nodded. ‘Yeah, it is getting quite… early. A few more things to do before I turn in. Been a long night alright.’

‘Wanna come to my place? I’ll show you the TRUE meaning of a long night,’ Blue prompted Hales.

‘Ahhhh, I see your game now,’ Hales said, taking another sip of her beer. ‘Get me a little tipsy then let the booze do the talking.’

‘Did it work?’

Hales set her drink aside. ‘Sure. Lets go.’

‘Great!’ Blue clapped his hands together. ‘Just a give me a sec.’

Blue walked over to the cabbie. ‘Dooly.’

Dooly continued looking glassy eyed at nothing.

Blue rested a hand on Dooly’s shoulder. ‘Dooly, look at me.’

Dooly’s slowly raised his eyes, meeting Blue’s.

‘You may be a faggot, an insane cunt, and a back stabbing piece of shit but… tonight you did good, man. Really good. I’m impressed.’

‘Thanks,’ Dooly said, starting to sound like himself again.

‘No problem… and sorry about your driver’s side mirror. I’m sure your insurance will cover it.’

Dooly’s eyebrows creased. ‘You KNEW THAT WAS ME?!’

Blue laughed at Dooly’s sudden screaming fit. ‘The opportunity presented itself. What would you have done in my position? Anyway, fate decreed that you should be around a little bit longer at least. And it worked out in the end. We got the Cockroach. Ripper… Now I’ve got to go… Hetro stuff… not that you’d understand.’

He winked and then departed into the morning sun with Hales under his arm.

‘Well…Veni, vidi, vici and all that shit,’ Eff One said. ‘I’m outta here too.’

‘See you guys later,’ Angie said, waving. ‘See you at the CT get together.’

The two brothers also waved at Angie and Eff One as they left too.

Sheriff and Dooly sat next to each other on the car bonnet for the next minute, not saying a thing, just watching the cops do their thing.

‘You must know it wasn’t anything permanent,’ Sheriff said.

Dooly looked at him. ‘What wasn’t?’

‘Bira and me,’ Sheriff answered, and then he took another breath. ‘Sure, I banged her a few times… okay, more than a few times, but the last couple after you’d left weren’t the same after you told her all that bullshit.’

‘HAHAHAHA, she bought that incest stuff, huh,’ Dooly said, pleased with himself.

Sheriff continued. ‘Anyway, I learned my lesson over 3 years ago. Whatever has happened this past night or two was just a one off… until the next time.’ He laughed.

‘She isn’t staying here then?’ Dooly asked.

Sheriff nodded. ‘Correct. Once I tell her Tomalski has been apprehended, she’ll be on the first plane back to San Fran or wherever Atlasf1’s Headquarters are. And I’m happy with that, relieved even.’

‘So no more racing down busy, wet roads at 200 km/h and hitting…’

‘No,’ Sheriff said.

Dooly smiled in approval. ‘Its good to see some common fucken sense from you at last.’

Sheriff laughed out loud again. ‘Fuck, what would you know of common sense? This whole charade happened because that turd you call a brain didn’t use any.’

‘Fuck my cunny, hedonist.’

‘Suck my black cock, dopey.’

Silence once more between the Tilly’s.

‘Did you know the Panda Bear isn’t a bear at all but actually part of the racoon family?’ Dooly asked after a time.

Sheriff looked at his brother like he was nuts. ‘What the fuck has that got to do with ANYTHING?’

Dooly shrugged. ‘Don’t know. Thought you’d be interested is all. What’s good enough for Homer Simpson…’

He went back to looking at the cemetery in silence.

Sheriff just shook his head and looked back too. He saw no point in musing over his bro’s rabblings. Half the shit he says barely makes sense anyway.

Another 30 seconds go by, and then Sheriff lightly punched Dooly in the bicep and smiled at him. ‘Come on. I’ll take you home. I’m sure the folks are worried sick. At least this whole experience has done some good for you: you finally did something important without my help.’

Dooly laughed wholeheartedly at that. He felt like he hadn’t laughed this hard in a long time, it certainly relieved much of stress.

Another cop was heading in their direction, hauling a very deflated Kristian ahead of him, toward the car the two bros were resting on.

Kristian spotted them and his expression changed to one of delight. He started mouthing the words ‘call me’ to Sheriff as he was forced into the back of the cop car.

Dooly frowned and looked at his brother. ‘What the fuck was that about?’

Sheriff shook his head. ‘Long story. Not worth going into… EVER…’

Dooly looked confused but didn’t press the issue. He left his rug on the cop car bonnet and stood up. ‘Okay, anyway, I’ve got to get a couple of things out of the AU before we go. That alright?’

‘ Yeah,’ Sheriff said, getting up also. ‘But don’t be too long. The less we’re near that filthy shit pile the better…. And what the abos did wasn’t nice either’

‘OH GROW UP,’ Dooly yelled out.

They arrived at the site, still in no better shape than when Dooly last left it. Most of CT’s luggage had been taken away and Big Kev was nowhere in sight.

Dooly grabbed his hanky again and placed on under his nose. He spied a clean looking plastic shopping bag and opened it up to make sure it was empty.

Sheriff let out a laugh.

Dooly glanced at him. ‘What’s your problem now?’

Sheriff grinning, pointed across the side of the AU2. ‘TRUTH,’ he read aloud. ‘This should be in a fucking museum. You’re bullshit finally flew back and smacked you where it hurt. Now THAT’S funny. There’s a lesson to be learnt from this experience, Davo. Karma, motherfucker. Karma.’

‘You’ll get yours,’ Dooly said in all seriousness.

Sheriff ignored his brother’s last comment. ‘A little strange your old chum Big Kev disappeared,’ he noted. ‘Cops never did find him… if he was here in the first place.’

‘NEVER QUESTION MY WORD.’ Dooly said, as he walked over to his cab with the shopping bag opened up. ‘THE ROLE OF A GENUINE TRUTHSEEKER IS TO NEVER MISREPRESENT THE ACTUALITY OF REALITY.

Sheriff sighed. ‘Actuality and reality mean the same thing, dumbarse.’

‘I… uh… DON’T TALK TO ME WHILE I AM CONCENTRATING ON THE TASK AT HAND!!!’

Sheriff crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Whatever. Just hurry the fuck up.’

Dooly made sure not one part of his body was touching the AU2 as he looked in the driver’s side seat and got a better look at the interior and the aboriginal ‘art’ forced upon his precious Falcon.

He carefully peeled his cabbie ID away from the dashboard, making sure not to get any of the smeared shit on his person, and dropped it into his bag.

‘What are you going to do with the cab now? Sheriff asked Dooly.

‘Probably sell it for scrap and collect the insurance, no one’s going to be interested in repairing it. Buy me a BA or one of those dog ugly Magnas. They should be reasonably cheap by now.’

‘Hey, don’t pay out the Magna,’ Sheriff said.

‘Yeah, I know how much of a fanboy you are of Aussie-made gook cars and Red Mitsubishi … they make the sedan in South Australia you know.’

Sheriff rolled his eyes. ‘Captain Fucking Obvious strikes again.’

‘Then why a fan?’

Sheriff grinned. ‘I’m a great admire of South Aussie craftsmanship.’

That made Dooly laugh out loud again.

‘You’re chewing time here,’ Sheriff said pointing at his watch, obviously wanting to get back home.

Dooly stopped laughing. ‘OKAY. OKAY.’

Once Dooly Tilly had every other essential, he straightened up out of the cab and into the fresh air again.

‘Okay I’ve got everything,’ he called out to Sheriff and then spied something in the back seat. He stepped over to the open back door and peered in. ‘WHAT ARE YOU DOING THERE?’ he screamed.

Sheriff ran over and glanced in too. ‘What the hell…’

In the backseat, Choga woke up from all the noise and staggered out the door in his half sobered state. The aroma he gave off had not improved.

‘Fuck… we ‘ere alredy…,’ he said.

‘This your abo fare?’ Sheriff asked Dooly, while covering his nose with a hand.

Dooly was too shocked to speak and could only nod in acknowledgement.

The old gin itched at his facial whiskers then felt into his trousers. He produced a 20 dollar note from the crotch of his pants and shoved the filthy thing into the palm of a stunned Dooly.

‘Danks for da ride, cus.’ Choga said and slapped Dooly full in the back, almost knocking the cabbie flying. He then drunkenly tottered away, reeling from side to side in a vain attempt to stand up straight.

‘HOW? WHAT? WHEN?….’ Dooly spluttered out.

‘I wouldn’t get all worked up about it,’ Sheriff said. ‘Somethings are just left unexplained. Big Kev disappears and your abo friend miraculously reappears. Shit happens.’

He snatched the festering twenty from Dooly’s hand.

Dooly looked at him, his expression saying ‘what the fuck did you do that for?.’

‘Compensation for my valuable time away from the Atlas Sperm Bank,’ Sheriff said, shoving the note in his pocket.

He glanced up at the back of Choga again. ‘You know, that black cunt’s face seems so familiar to me but I can’t for the life of me remember where from.’

‘Speed kills,’ Dooly said to his brother. ‘But in your case you got lucky.’

He smiled and started walking the way back to Sheriff’s car.

Sheriff stood there for a second, not understanding. Then the realisation of what Dooly was trying to say dawned on him. ‘Wait a fucken minute…’

16.

‘GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME, CAMPTEEN, THERE ARE ENOUGH FRUITCAKES AND NUTJOBS AROUND ME WITHOUT ANOTHER ONE. Sounds like you've fucken lost the plot, mate, I 'm worried you'll be masturbating as I speak to you. Anytime you wanna grow up, give us a yell...’ - Dooly Tilly FULL TRUTHS Philosophy #200

‘… And to the Estonian FAGGOT Aido {AIDS}: Ohhhh FUCK OFF YOU LATIN AMERICAN CUNT, THE ONLY THING YOU DO WITH CAMPY IS DRINK FROM HIS BALLS. FAGGOTS LIKE YOU SHOULD HAVE YOUR DICKHEADS CUT OFF. AND FUCK YOU AGAIN CUNT, I'M ONE OF THE MOST HONEST PEOPLE YOU'LL EVER MEET IN YOUR FAGGY LATIN ANAL SEMEN LIFE. FUCKING YUGOSLAV CUNT LIKE YOU....FUCK OFF YOU ETHNIC RELIGIOUS BALKEN TYPE CUNT!!!’ - Dooly Tilly FULL TRUTHS Philosophy #201

‘Ahhhhh…. You’ve arrived.’

Dooly Tilly lost his bearings for a second before looking around to see where he was. He was obviously in an apartment building of some kind. He looked out the viewing to see a similar tower to the one he was in.

Where the fuck am I? He thought.

‘You’re right. Its an apartment building’, the person who spoke first said, reading Dooly’s mind. He was sitting on a table with a pile of videotapes next to him smiling at the cabbie. Dooly knew who he was of course. It was Mr Carnteen aka Campy aka Notorious Troll Apparition, but he didn’t know whom the fucker sitting on the table near him was…

‘I’m dreaming again aren’t I.’ Dooly said. It wasn’t a question.

‘Correct,’ Campy confirmed. ‘In reality, you are sleeping comfortably in your nice warm bed. All this is one big setting created within your mind. I’m not really here and neither are you. You probably don’t recognise it immediately, so I’ll remind you: We’re in one of F1insanity’s stories, Rear Entry to be precise… with a few slight changes.’

Dooly looked around and saw he was right. There was the window overlooking the other building of course, the tapes, the cameras but… the differences were shocking…

In the middle of the room was every Formula One driver in the 2004 season, even the bunnies Pantano, Klien, etc…. immersing themselves in a large, loud, stinking group orgy. It seemed Campy, the other bloke, and Dooly himself were the only ones wearing clothes in this instant.

Sato was on top of Button, ‘liding’ him for all he was worth

Juan was on all fours with Kimi pounding away behind him, getting to know each other a little better in preparation for ’05.

The Schumi brothers were miming the number 69.

Webbo the Hippo and SUPER Nick Heidfeld were preparing for the numerous podium positions they will surely have in 05 by spraying each other with the sticky white stuff. Pizzaboy off to one side crying because he hasn’t go any balls.

One way or another it went on like this with all the drivers. Jabbing, pounding, slurping, swallowing, like Jesus’ Last Supper all over again.

The potent reek of manlove was overpowering.

‘FUCKEN QUEEROS,’ Dooly screamed. ‘WHAT’S THE MEANING OF ALL THIS?’

Campy’s grin widened. ‘I’m surprised you haven’t noticed yet.’

Dooly looked down at himself and saw what Campy meant. Dooly was confined to a wheelchair with a colostomy bag stuck to his side. He also had no feeling from his waist down.

‘WHAT THE FUCK HAVE YOU DONE TO ME, CAMPTEEN?’ He screamed.

‘Relax, Dooly, it’s a dream remember,’ Campy reassured. ‘Besides, I didn’t do anything. Its all you, champ. This is your mind after all and it’s controlling the situation. I’m merely a passenger on this crazy ride to Insanityville.’

‘hullusel on õigus,’ the mysterious stranger said.

Dooly saw the person was seated on desk which was scatted with separated metal parts to a piece of equipment. The dark man was casually cleaning parts of the black oily implements while looking at the cabbie; it became clear to Dooly that what he was cleaning was a separated firearm of some kind…

‘AND WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU SUPPOSED TO BE? BURT REYNOLDS? SMOKIN SOME COCK, YOU ARSE BANDIT?’ Dooly yelled at the shadowy figure.

‘Kas nimi Aido kõlab tuttavalt?’ The shrouded person answered.

‘HUH? WHO HAS AIDS?….. Aaaahhhh, YOU ARE THE ESTONIAN FUCKER. ONE OF YOU WRETCHED INSANITY FAGGOTS WHO MAKE A MOCKERY OF MY PURE TRUTHS BY COPYING MY STYLE.’ Dooly swiped his hand through the air in Aido’s direction. ‘FUCKEN COPYCAT WANNABE.’

‘Ja nagu tihti juhtub, saab õpilasest osavam kui ta õpetaja on.’

‘What the HELL are you saying? QUIT SPEAKING IN GIBBERISH, BOY. ME NO SPEKA DA NIGGA. WHITE FELLA LANGUAGE ONLY.’

‘sinu ignorantsus teiste kultuuride suhtes on imekspandav,’ Aido said coolly, not looking up from his task.

‘WHAT THE FUCK IS HE SAYING, CAMPY?’ Dooly demanded.

‘You’re ignorance of other cultures is astonishing,’ Campy translated.

‘How come you can understand the CUNT but I CAN’T?’ Dooly asked.

‘Can you speak Estonian?’ Campy questioned, but already knowing the answer.

‘No… BUT NEITHER CAN YOU.’

‘Do you know that with 100 percent certainty?’ Campy said smiling.

Dooly thought for a moment. ‘No… I guess not. You’re a fucken enigma, champ. I’ll give you that.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Yeah,hitthatshithard,boy,’ Kimi moaned at Montoga who was making mince meat of the finn’s muck hole…

‘Ta on küsinud miks sa sellest aru saad, aga ta ei ole küsinud miks ta unes eesti keel kuuleb, kuigi ta sellest sittagi ei tea,’ Aido said to Campy while beginning to piece his gun together.

Campy nodded. ‘True, and I doubt he actually will.’

‘Vaid üks mitmetest vigadest mille ma olen su jutus leidnud.’

‘Yeah, yeah, okay, nothing is perfect,’ Campy said dismissing Aido’s remark.

‘You CUNTS lost me about 3 bars back,’ Dooly said. ‘What swill are you two communicating behind my back?’

Campy looked back at the cripple. ‘If I translate everything Aido says we’ll be here all night.’

‘THEN I’LL JUST PLAIN IGNORE HIM.’ Dooly turned to Aido. ‘THAT’S IT. I’M DUMPING YOU FROM MY SUBCONSCIOUS, FAGGOT.’

‘Sa ei saa mind ignoreerida.Ma olen trollamise JUMAL,’ Aido replied.

Dooly tried to calm himself. When he was halfway there he spoke to Campy again. ‘What is the point of all this? Why am I HERE? Are you really HIM?’

Campy stood up and walked up to the window, looking out at the non-existent view. ‘To answer your last question first: No. The real Mr Carnteen lives in South Australia… or your dungeon, whatever that means… I don’t know much about him beyond what you know. I’m a representation, created from all your online experiences had with him over the last 3 to 4 years. I’ve even assumed the form you and your bro created in that weirdo picture.’

He looked at Dooly. ‘The first two questions I would have thought you’d know the answer to already. I’m here because you want to know the TRUTH. The FULL TRUTH as it were.’

Dooly waited for Campy to say more but spoke up when he didn’t. ‘Okay… so… are you going to tell me straight out or do I have to ask questions?’

‘TRUTH begins with a question,’ Campy said.

Dooly sighed. ‘I thought it was too good to be true… How deep can the questions be? Are there limitations?’

‘Of course there are limitations. The human brain isn’t infinite,’ Campy stated. ‘There are just some things we as human beings cannot comprehend and never will. The answer to why everything exists for one. Anyway, I’m not God, the answers are limited to, and are based on, your own scope and understanding.’

‘Great… we’ll get nowhere in that case…’ Dooly muttered.

Aido chuckled. ‘Vähemalt tunnistad sa enda puudujäämisi ja oskamatust.’

Dooly thought for a second and decided on a tough one first up, ‘What is the meaning of life?’

‘A sexually-transmitted, terminal disease,’ was the reply from Campy.

‘THAT ISN’T A FUCKEN ANSWER. AND I KNOW WHERE YOU PLAGIARISED THAT FROM TOO!’

Aido: ‘ütles pada katlale.’

‘Of course it is,’ Mr Carnteen said to Dooly. ‘What did you expect? The Monty Python routine?’

‘YOU’RE BEING TRICKY, MATE. LIKE THE GENIE IN THE LAMP AND 3 WISHES,’ Dooly screamed.

‘Then like the genie ask carefully worded questions.’

‘FINE… Who is the greatest Formula 1 Grand Prix driver?’

Off to one side Zsolt Baumgartner moaned in orgasm.

‘Jim Clark,’ Campy answered.

Aido: ‘ma nõustun.’

‘WHAT? THAT CAN’T BE RIGHT,’ Dooly declared.

‘How do you figure?’ Campy enquired.

‘You’re meant to be basing your answers on my scope and understanding. YOU SAID SO YOURSELF.’

‘That doesn’t mean I’m going to say Michael Schumacher just to please your conscious mind. I have an all areas access pass to your subconscious. Hell, I even know you’re a secret admirer of screenwriter Joe Eszterhas.’

‘His perspective on the female gender is fascinating,’ Dooly justified.

Campy continued. ‘Regardless, you know the real Campy believes its Ayrton Senna, you feel its Schumacher, but the real answer is Jim Clark. Plain and simple.’

‘OH FUCKEN HELL… OKAY. Is Michael Schumacher gay?’

‘Like green grass in the springtime!’

‘SHUT UP, FALSE SCHUMI,’ Dooly screamed at the interfering dream Schumi. He looked again at Campy. ‘WELL?’

Campy didn’t even hesitate. ‘Yes.’

‘CUNT CUNT CUNT. To hell with this bullshit. No point in asking about RALF THE FAGGOT then.’

‘sa vastasid "õnnelikust" kontekstist, jah?’ Aido asked Campy.

‘Yes,’ Campy answered over his shoulder.

‘arvasingi nii.argpüks.’

‘To the fucken point then,’ Dooly said. ‘WHAT are the recent dreams?’

Campy waved his hands in an explosion motion. ‘An awakening.’

‘An awakening of who?’

‘Me, of course. If there’s been one consistency in all your dreams its me and the goat.’

‘What of the goat?’

‘Gone. I don’t need him anymore.’

Aido: ‘ta valetab.See kits olin tegelikult mina.’

‘FUCK his arse to the point of boredom, huh?’ Dooly asked Campy.

‘No, he was my guide. Like a blind man and his dog,’ Campy said.

‘This whole experience is completely fucked and HIGHLY illogical.’ Dooly said in disgust.

‘Need I remind you whose mind we’re in.’ Campy reaffirmed.

Aido laughed.

Dooly had no retort to that but then another obvious question popped into his head. ‘Why are you here?’

Campy was silent for a second then said, ‘Situations are going to change for you now and in the future. The CT experience was only the beginning. As time progresses you will have many adventures and experiences, some good, some bad, but all character building. In a nutshell, I am like a guide, similar to a Pinocchio’s cricket or Luke Skywalker’s Obi Wan Kenobi. I was created by your subconscious to warn you of major upcoming events.’

‘teiste sõnadega, sa oled hulluks minemas.Siit enam tagasiteed ei ole,’ Aido put in.

‘THAT’S GAY,’ Dooly yelled out at Campy. ‘I think all that F1insanity cum you digested has finally rotted your brain. How do you predict the future if it hasn’t even happened yet?’

Campy shrugged his shoulders. ‘I don’t know the scientific explanation for it. Could be a number of things: A previously benign part of the brain awakening, super dooper magic powers, a clever process of elimination…’

‘Taking a DUMP is process of elimination,’ Dooly interrupted.

Campy laughed. ‘True, but a different kind. I can’t explain my makeup exactly, as much as you could your own.’

‘YOU DIDN’T PREDICT CT’S ARRIVAL.’

‘idioot…’ Aido said, slapping another metal component into place.

Campy looked at Dooly like he was a moron. ‘Duh… yeah I did. That CT dream where you were pinned and Pinjarra was part of his… anatomy was a pretty big fucking clue.’

‘It wasn’t big; it was hazy and could have meant anything. COULD HAVE DONE WITHOUT THE FAGGOT RAPING BY THE WAY.’

‘mis kasu on tasu andmisest, kui seda ei hinnata,’ Aido said shaking his head.

Campy groaned. ‘Look, most future predictions aren’t perfect and very few are detailed. Look at Nostradamus. He wrote a whole list of predictions that could be interpreted in many different ways, and in many cases are only considered predictions AFTER the fact. An example…’

Campy stood silent for a second then said. ‘Presage 15: The shocking and infamous armed one will fear the great furnace, First the chosen one (the Jews), the captives not returning: The world’s lowest crime, the Angry Female Irale not at ease, Barb(arossa), Hitler, Malta. And the Empty (soulless) One does not return.’

Dooly started to clap. ‘Bravo, Campy. You are a FUCKEN genius, champ,’ he said sarcastically. ‘Those 4 years at Uni are really paying off, huh.’

Aido: ‘võiks olla hullem. Ta võiks olla taksojuht, sa pederast.’

Campy shook his head. ‘The point is no one could have seen that as a true prediction until it actually happened. Nostradamus wrote that back in 1557 but it was only perceived as coming true after the events of the 1930/40s with Hitler’s Final Solution. Future predictions are not highly descriptive or even accurate; they only provide a path or prepare you for the possibility of what lies ahead. What’s different about my predictions, compared to Nostradamus, is mine are based solely around YOU. Its up to YOU to interpret those prophecies and use at your discretion. That CT dream was only the beginning.’

‘OKAY, OKAY…. FINE.’ Dooly relented.

‘Claudia Karvan on tegelikult mees.’

Dooly’s eyes flared at Aido. ‘WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT BUNNY CLAUDIA?!’

‘sa peaksid mind ignoreerima, mäletad?’ Aido said grinning.

‘Give it a rest, Dooly. Jesus…,’ Campy said shaking his head.

‘NO!’ Dooly shrilled. ‘HE SAID SOMETHING ABOUT MY WOMAN. FESS UP, YOU BLACK SPEAKING WHITE CUNT, OR YOU’LL GET A FACE FULL OF BAG!’

‘mu peenis on 25 cm pikk,’ Aido said in response.

‘HA! EVEN I UNDERSTOOD THAT BULLSHIT!’ Dooly said, pleased with himself. He pointed at his own crotch. ‘FOOTLONG RIGHT HERE, BABY. FOOTLONG!’

Dooly looked at Campy again. ‘Speaking of, why do I blow my load after each dream?’

‘Maybe you get enjoyment out of them,’ Campy answered.

‘REAL ANSWER, PLEASE.’

‘Miks sa IGNOREERID TÄIELIKKU TÕDE ja LASED VALEDEL ENDA PERSET VÄGISTADA’ Aido said while almost finishing his firearm puzzle.

Campy said in response to Dooly, ‘I don’t know. That is the best answer I can CUM up with. Hehehehehe…’

‘DON’T BULLSHIT,’ Dooly screamed.

‘Seriously! I have absolutely no idea! Its lost to me… but I’m sure it will be revealed to both of us in time.’

‘What about that shit eating thing you keep saying? What’s up with that?’

Jarno Trulli made a grab for Dooly’s costotomy bag.

Dooly slapped the fag’s hand away. ‘DON’T TOUCH THAT!’

Campy answered Dooly last question. ‘A catch phrase you used once for me when you added to a story. Its like the magic words to end a dream. Not my first preference mind you but it works.’

‘That was dummy Sheriff who wrote that.’ Dooly said, still keeping on eye on his precious bag.

‘Meh… he used your name so its officially part of the Dooly Tilly myth. Anymore questions today? I will be around sometimes for more question-time. Can’t make any promises on when however.’

Meanwhile, Webber and Rubens were on their knees doing a once over on Schumi’s shaft. Schumi was sitting down, moaning and taking it all in. ‘Yeah, that’s it, ladies. Teamwork!’ He said.

‘One final query,’ Dooly said to Campy. ‘What will happen to CT now?’

A moment later, Aido finally slipped the magazine into the uzi, quickly stood up and let the weapon blaze away at the F1 driver orgy.

The drivers tried to separate and run for their non-existent lives. Aido cut down Schumi, Rubens and Mighty Webbo first, and then focused on the BAR and Renault crowds, mowing them down with ease. A clearly lifeless Webbo the Hippo got some more treatment before DC, Ralf the Faggot, Mark W, Wiggy Jordan’s boys, Toyota, Minardi, Sauber, the Aussie driver, Toyota and Webber were all dealt with.

All that was standing after the bloody massacre was a naked Kimi Raikkenon. He looked at Aido with his dumb lopsided grin, thinking he was going to be spared.

A moment later, Kimi was thrown in to the adjacent wall as Aido finally popped a cap into the faggot’s skull. The finnished cunt was left on the floor, pissing out gray mass and blood all over the expensive-looking rug.

Aido slowly raised his smouldering weapon, barrel pointing in the air and looked at Dooly. ‘Lõplik lahendus,’ he said.

Campy laughed and nodded his head slowly in acknowledgment of Aido’s answer.

Dooly Tilly didn’t understand of course, so he just concluded that both apparitions were insane.

Epilogue

The room door opened to reveal a shivering CT with a black bag over his head and face. The person behind him lifted off the mask from CT’s head and pushed him into the high ceiling room at the same time. Before CT realised where he was, he fell flat on his face hitting the hard cold cement. He heard the door behind slam shut and lock.

Suddenly he could hear footsteps slowly walk up to him and then two boots entered his vision, stopping just in front of his head. CT slowly looked up to see a grinning man looking down. ‘Well, well, well, what do we have here?’ the beaming bloke said, obviously very happy to be in the same vicinity as Mr Tomalski. ‘Surprise, surprise, you don’t look pleased to see me.’

CT stood up quickly and backed away into a corner. The other man started to laugh when he saw CT was looking for a possible exit, but there was none except for the now locked door... and the open exit behind the man called Sid.

Sid stopped laughing and nodded his head. ‘Yes, that’s right. The only way outta here is through me. And through me you have to go if you value any chance of survival. Nice way to motivate a cocksucking CunT like you, huh?’

CT couldn’t help himself, he slid down the far wall and he began to bawl. ‘Boohoooooo, sniff, sniff….. Please Sid, sniff…. have MEERRCCY on…. sniff…. meeee… Oh God, boohoo…’

Sid stopped smiling. ‘Fuck you are pathetic. Look at you. A grown middle-aged man crying like an infant just because he’s about to feel a little pain. Well, how about the pain you inflicted on all those kiddies, hey? This won’t be a tenth as much agony as they felt when you had your way with them, not even close.’

CT continued to sit, wailing in his hands.

‘You should consider yourself lucky,’ Sid continued. ‘Just imagine if Dooly had killed you. Not exactly the best way to be remembered. At least this way you go with a grain of creditability.’

CT stopped crying and stood up again. ‘I don’t want to fight you!’ he yelled through the tears rolling down his cheers and hands flailing at Sid. ‘I refuse to! This is illegal! Someone will miss me; the cops will charge you with murder one, then you’ll be sorry!’

Sid stood silently for a moment then said smiling, ‘you assume your back in the UK, don’t you… How do you know for sure? We could be floating on a cruiser in the middle of international waters for all you know. Anything goes out he… there…’

CT went all white. ‘Yo… you’re lying,’ he said quietly.

Sid swung his boot up and kicked CT square in the balls. CT went down, feeling the most intense throbbing hurt he ever felt in his life. He cupped his nutsack through his pants and screamed in pain. ‘That’s for your little surprise attack when I knocked on your door the last time we met. Now we’re even. Not very nice is it?

CT continued to hold his sack and screamed out. ‘You crushed my nads!’

Sid ignored him. ‘Oh, before I forget to mention: This isn’t a closed fight.’

He pressed a button on the wall and the two doorless sides slowly opened up to reveal a packed stand of onlookers. When the shutters completely opened, the spectators all cheered.

CT finally was able to stand, despite the pain, and looked at all the faces through the thick glass separating the room from the viewpoint. He saw he knew most of them: there was JF, Aido, Mulcahey, Gilles, etc… they were all here… everyone from f1insanity was here…

‘Even a couple of your mods decided to catch a glimpse of show,’ Sid said to CT. ‘Hey fellas!’

CT’s mods in the insanity stands, who he thought were his best friends, waved back and saluted their beverages toward CT. They all then started laughed.

‘What about my support group?’ CT asked Sid, he honestly didn’t know why.

‘Don’t worry, champ. Dawn, Kristian and Scopevale are in your stand, cheering you on,’ Sid pointing at the other side stand.

CT looked at the direction Sid’s finger was pointing and saw the two lonely figures of Dawn, Kristian and Scopevale encouraging CT. ‘Come on, Craig! You can do it! I have faith in you!’ Scopey said, then he both started pointing at his chest with his one hand at the CT shirt with a picture of Tomalski himself on it: the one with his fly down and a… horrible red eye view in the background.

‘Too bad they don’t know they’re next in the arena,’ Sid said. ‘Maybe I should tell them? On second thought: and spoil the fun? Nah…’

‘TO THE OVENS, TO THE OVENS, TO THE OVENS,’ the crowd started chanting.

‘Do you think we’ll give them their money’s worth?’ Sid asked CT. ‘Three rounds?’ He laughed again.

CT saw Mulcahey stand up with a mike in his hand and yell. ‘LET THE FINAL SOLUTION BEGIN!’

The crowd cheered again as the cage interior crash onto the floor, covering the walls.

Sid started cracking his knuckles in anticipation. ‘You know, I’ve never actually gotten hard over a man before, but God damn, boy, I almost came in my pants when I heard they had caught you.’

‘Please, Sid, this is pointless,’ CT pleaded. ‘I’ll do anything if you stop. Money, stock shares, porn, KID PORN, SUCK YOUR COCK, ANYTHING PLEASE FOR FUCK’S SAKE!!!!’

‘Now you’re sounding like the cabbie,’ Sid said in amusement.

CT looked at the cage interior and saw some objects: weapons.

He launched himself at them, Sid letting him, and brandished a wooden baseball. He faced it at Sid and yelled. ‘Get the fuck out of my way, Sid, or you’ll be chewin turkey through a straw this Christmas.’ He started swinging the bat.

Sid barely flitched and then crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Okay, Cockroach. I’ll give you one swing then it’s no hold barriers from there on in.’

The crowd cheered as an angry looking CT approached with his bat arched back. He swung at Sid’s head but instead smacked his blocking upper arm. The bat shattered in two as it collided with Sid’s arm. CT was in stunned silence as he looked at the remanets of his precious implement of destruction.

Sid shook his head. ‘Tut, tut, tut, Craig. No more freebies. Time to meet thy maker,’ he said, then drilled a fist through CT’s face.

Cockroaches are insects of the Order Blattodea. The name of the order is derived from Greek for "cockroach," blatta. There are roughly 3,500 species in six families. Cockroaches exist worldwide, with the exception of the polar regions. Cockroaches are also simply known as "roaches".

The English word cockroach is derived from the Spanish cucaracha.

Among the most well-known species are the American cockroach, Periplaneta americana, which is about 3 cm long, the German cockroach, Blattella germanica, about 1½ cm long, the Asian cockroach, Blattella asahinai, also about 1½ cm in length, and the Oriental cockroach, Blatta orientalis, about 2½ cm. Tropical cockroaches are often much bigger, and extinct cockroach relatives such as the Carboniferous Archimylacris and the Permian Apthoroblattina were several times as large as these. When infesting buildings, cockroaches are considered pests; out of the thousands of species, however, only a handful fall into this designation.

Evolutionary history and relationships

The earliest cockroach-like fossils are from the Carboniferous period between 354–295 million years ago. However, these fossils differ from modern cockroaches in having long ovipositors and are apparently the ancestors of mantids as well as modern cockroaches. Current evidence strongly suggests that termites have evolved, in turn, directly from true cockroaches. The first fossils of "modern" cockroaches with short ovipositors appear in the early Cretaceous. Mantodea, Isoptera, and Blattodea are usually combined by entomologists into a higher group called Dictyoptera.

Biology

Cockroaches are generally either scavengers or omnivores. The exception to this is the wood-eating Cryptocercus species found in China and the United States. Although they are incapable of digesting the cellulose themselves, they have a symbiotic relationship with a protozoan that digests the cellulose, allowing them to extract the nutrients. In this, they are similar to termites and current research suggests that the genus Cryptocercus is more closely related to termites than it is to other cockroaches. Cockroaches are most common in tropical and subtropical climates. Some species are in close association with human dwellings and widely found around garbage or in the kitchen.

Female Blatella germanica with ootheca

Female cockroaches are sometimes seen carrying egg cases on the end of their abdomen; the egg case of the German cockroach holds about 30–40 long, thin eggs, packed like frankfurters in the case called an ootheca. The eggs hatch from the combined pressure of the hatchlings gulping air and are initially bright white nymphs that continue inflating themselves with air and harden and darken within about four hours. Their transient white stage while hatching and later while molting has led to many individuals claiming to have seen albino cockroaches.

Common household roaches A. German cockroach, B. American cockroach, C. Australian cockroach, D&E. Oriental cockroach (♀ & ♂)

A female German cockroach carries an egg capsule containing around 40 eggs. She drops the capsule prior to hatching. Development from eggs to adults takes 3-4 months. Cockroaches live up to a year. The female may produce up to eight egg cases in a lifetime; in favorable conditions, it can produce 300-400 offspring. Other species of cockroach, however, can produce an extremely high number of eggs in a lifetime. Laying up to 100 eggs in each egg sac, it only needs to be impregnated once to be able to lay eggs for the rest of its life, allowing one single cockroach to lay over a million eggs during its lifespan.

The world's largest cockroach is the Australian giant burrowing cockroach, which can grow to 9 cm in length and weigh more than 30 grams. Comparable in size is the giant cockroach Blaberus giganteus, which grows to a similar length but is not as heavy.

Cockroaches are mainly nocturnal and will run away when exposed to light. A peculiar exception is the Oriental cockroach, which is attracted to light, thus making it a far more annoying pest.

The cockroach is also one of the hardiest insects on the planet, capable of living for a month without food. It can also hold its breath for 45 minutes and has the ability to slow down its heart rate.

It is popularly suggested that cockroaches will "inherit the earth" if humanity destroys itself in a nuclear war. Cockroaches do indeed have a much higher radiation resistance than vertebrates, with the lethal dose perhaps 6 to 15 times that for humans. However, they are not exceptionally radiation-resistant compared to other insects, such as the fruit fly .

The cockroach's ability to withstand radiation better than human beings can be explained in terms of the cell cycle. Cells are more vulnerable to effects of radiation when they are dividing. A cockroach's cells divide only once when in its molting cycle, which at most happens weekly. The cells of the cockroach take roughly 48 hours to complete a molting cycle, which would give time enough for radiation to affect it but not all cockroaches would be molting at the same time. This would mean some would be unaffected by the initial radiation and thus survive, at least until the fallout arrived.

Selected species

Oriental cockroach (Blatta orientalis). a, female; b, male; c, side view of female; d, young.

• Periplaneta americana, American cockroach
• Eurycotis floridana, Florida woods cockroach
• Blatta orientalis, Oriental cockroach
• Blattella germanica, German cockroach
• Blattella asahinai, Asian cockroach
• Pycnoscelus surinamensis, Surinam cockroach
• Supella longipalpa, brown-banded cockroach
• Periplaneta australasiae, Australian cockroach
• Periplaneta fuliginosa, smokybrown cockroach
• Parcoblatta pennsylvanica, Pennsylvania woods cockroach
• Periplaneta brunnea, brown cockroach
• Blaberus discoidalis, discoid cockroach or false death's head
• Blaberus craniifer, true death's head cockroach
• Gromphadorhina portentosa, Madagascar hissing cockroach

File:True Death's Head Crannifer2.jpg

True death's head cockroach

Behaviour

Cockroaches have been shown to exhibit emergent behaviour .

Research being conducted at the University of Florida shows that cockroaches leave chemical trails in their feces. Other cockroaches will follow these trails to discover sources of food, water, and where other cockroaches are hiding. One of the major implications of this research is a new technique in cockroach pest control. Cockroaches could potentially be removed from a home by leaving a chemical trail that leads away from the home.

Research has shown that group-based decision making is responsible for more complex behavior such as resource allocation. A study where 50 cockroaches were placed in a dish with three shelters with a capacity for 40 insects in each, the insects arranged themselves in two shelters with 25 insects in each, leaving the third shelter empty. When the capacity of the shelters was increased to more than 50 insects per shelter, all of the cockroaches arranged themselves in one shelter. Researchers found a balance between cooperation and competition exists in group decision-making behavior found in cockroaches. The models used in this research can also explain the group dynamics of other insects and animals.

Cockroaches and health risks

A 2005 US national study on factors that affect asthma in inner-city children shows that cockroach allergens appear to worsen asthma symptoms more than other known triggers. This study, funded by the US National Institute of Environmental Health Sciences (NIEHS) and the US National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases (NIAID), is the first large-scale study to rank asthma triggers according to severity.

Additionally, a 2005 research study, sponsored by the National Pest Management Association (NPMA), shows a disparity in homeowner knowledge about this link. Only 10% of homeowners nationwide feel that cockroaches are a threat to their family’s health.

Habitat

Cockroaches live in a wide range of environments around the world. Pest species of cockroaches adapt readily to a variety of environments, but prefer warm conditions such as found within buildings. Many tropical species prefer even warmer environments and do not fare well in the average household. Only a small handful of the 3,500 or so species of cockroach are suited to thrive in the typical home.

Interesting facts

Few cockroaches die on their backs in the wild. Natural death of cockroaches probably occurs in the stomach of a bird, bat or other small animal. The reason why cockroaches sometimes die in this position is because cockroaches' legs are not adapted for traversing smooth surfaces such as polished marble or vinyl floors, thus dying of immobility and starvation. Cockroaches are adapted for a rugged natural terrain filled with leaves, sticks and other environmental debris. Thus, when a cockroach finds itself on its back it may have trouble righting itself if there is not debris around to grab hold of with its legs. It is also common to come across dead cockroaches that have died of insecticide. Most of these insecticides are pyrethroid nerve poisons. The nerve poison induces muscular spasms which often result in the cockroach flipping on its back. Without muscular coordination, the cockroach cannot right itself and eventually dies in its upside-down position.

Cockroaches can survive on very little food; it has been discovered that cockroaches will eat the glue from the back of postage stamps when little else is available.

A person who is allergic to consuming shellfish is also likely to have an allergy to eating cockroaches.

Pest control

File:Roach control.jpg

Cockroach control, with cockroach baits, boric acid, and hydramethylnon gel.

There are numerous parasites and predators of cockroaches, but few of them have proven to be highly effective for biological control. Wasps in the family Evaniidae are perhaps the most effective insect predators, as they attack the egg cases, and wasps in the family Ampulicidae are predators on adult and nymphal cockroaches (e.g., Ampulex compressa). The house centipede, however, is probably the most effective control agent of cockroaches, though most homeowners find the centipedes themselves objectionable. Preventative measures include keeping all food stored away in sealed containers, using garbage cans with a tight lid, frequent cleaning in the kitchen, and regular vacuuming. Any water leaks, such as dripping taps, should also be repaired. It is also helpful to seal off any entry points, such as holes around baseboards, in between kitchen cabinets, pipes, doors, and windows with some steel wool or copper mesh and some cement, putty or silicone caulk. Once a cockroach infestation occurs, chemical controls may help alleviate the problem. Bait stations, gels containing hydramethylnon, as well as boric acid powder, are toxic to cockroaches. Baits with egg killers are also quite effective at reducing the cockroach population. A simple homemade Vegas cockroach trap is reported to be successful. Additionally, pest control products containing deltamethrin are very effective.

Popular culture

In popular culture, cockroaches are often regarded as vile and extremely resilient pests, due to their shiny exoskeletons (making them look slimy, contrary to their fastidious habits), and their size, unusual for a scavenging insect.

Movies which feature cockroaches include:

• Joe's Apartment — The bugs are cheerful, swinging party-goers who help the titular human hero.
• Creepshow — Swarms of them terrorize a cantankerous and verminophobic old man.
• Damnation Alley — A post-apocalyptic Las Vegas is infected with a flesh-eating mutant variety.
• Men in Black — A giant cockroach-like alien's actions threaten to lead to the destruction of the Earth.
• Mimic — Diseased cockroaches are the target of the genetically-altered titular species.
• Team America: World Police — After his apparent death, a coachroach crawls out of Kim Jong-il's mouth and flies away in a rocket ship, in parody of Men in Black.
• Twilight of the Cockroaches — An anime film in which roaches live peacefully in a bachelor's apartment until he begins dating a woman across the street, who encourages genocide of the insects.

In Franz Kafka's existentialist story The Metamorphosis, the character Gregor Samsa awakes to find himself transformed into a giant insect, often mislabeled as a cockroach. Actually, the type of bug in which Gregor transforms is not specified, though it is referred to as "vermin" and the little physical description offered could match either a cockroach or beetle.

In the X-Files episode "War of The Coprophages", cockroaches are seen to group together to murder people. The character Dr. Berenbaum (based on the University of Illinois entomologist) suggests that it is actually swarms of flying cockroaches that are responsible for most UFO sightings (they generate an electro-static field which can be illuminated dependent on atmospheric conditions). In one of the scenes, a cockroach that escaped can be seen crawling over the camera, making it appear that the viewer's television has become infested. Though the shot was not planned, the producers decided to leave it in the episode.

In the television show ALF, Alf inadvertently releases a Melmacian cockroach in the house. When it is sprayed with insecticide, it grows bigger until it is large enough to eat him. He discovers that a bottle of perfume will kill the cockroach.

The famous Mexican folk song, La Cucaracha, means "The Cockroach" in Spanish, and refers to cockroaches in some of its lines.

In 1987, Los Angeles rapper Bobby Jimmy released the song "Roaches" as a parody of Timex Social Club's hit song "Rumors". Its chorus line was Look at all these roaches / Around me everyday / Need somethin' strong / To make 'em go away.

The cult computer game Bad Mojo deals with a person turned into a cockroach, in clear reference to Kafka's Metamorphosis.

Archy is a cockroach in a series of columns by Don Marquis.

Megalon is a 50 meter tall cockroach that appears in several Japanese Godzilla films.

Along with rats, cockroaches are frequently seen infesting various locations in sam and max comics, and one storyline features a race of gigantic cockroaches living on the moon.

In the Discworld novel The Last Continent, Ponder Stibbons is horrified to learn that the cockroach is actually the most highly evolved and advanced creature in the world, and not mankind as he had assumed.

Tyler Knox published a noir comedy in 2006 called "Kockroach" (William Morrow) in which a cockroach wakes up one morning as a man and becomes a leading gangster in Times Square during the 1950s.

Believed in urban legend to be the only surviving creatures in the event of a nuclear war.

History

Some of the earliest writings with regards to cockroaches encourage their use as medicine. Pedanius Dioscorides (1st century), Kamal al-Din al-Damiri and Abu Hanifa ad-Dainuri (9th century) all offered medicines that either suggest grinding them up with oil or boiling. The list of ailments included earaches, open wounds and "gynecological disorders".

Miscellaneous

• The largest by weight is a 50 g Macropanesthia rhinoceros.
• The smallest species is Attaphila fungicola, reaching only 4 mm.

External links

• Cockroach health threats
• Cockroach pictures shares pictures and facts on cockroaches and their behavior, feeding habits and life cycle.
• UC Davis on cockroaches
• Online book about cockroaches
• Transitional Species in Insect Evolution discusses the evolution of termites from cockroach ancestors
• The cockroach FAQ
• Cockroach gallery
• Russian cockroach
• An illustration by George Rolleston published in 1870 showing the internal organs of a cockroach
• Roach Control Tips from About.com
• Harvard University fact sheet on American cockroaches

• Traditional and safe method of eliminating cockroaches
• Order Blattodea (Cockroaches), Exploring California Insects photos of a few California species

References

• Firefly Encyclopedia of Insects and Spiders, edited by Christopher O'Toole, ISBN 1-55297-612-2, 2002
• Insects: Their Biology and Cultural History, Bernhard Klausnitzer, ISBN 0-87663-666-0, 1987
• Medical and Veterinary Entomology, edited by Gary Mullen and Lance Durden, ISBN 0-12510-451-0, 2002