This might be one of the best Amazon product reviews I have ever seen:
All characters and events in this film-- even those based on real people--are entirely fictional. All celebrity voices are impersonated.....poorly. The film contains racially insensitive depictions, graphic sexual content, intense violence, and coarse language and due to its content it should not be viewed by anyone.....ESPECIALLY DAYCARES
"But I don't know what I need so just tell me what you need, you're all I need"
You were the perfect girl, the perfect daughter. So what were you doing fucking your dads best friend?
{warnings: drug use, corruption kink, daddy issues ig? idk just read it man}
︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶
You grew up the perfect girl, never past curfew, grades never lower than a B-, and been part of your school's version of D.A.R.E. since you could remember. Drugs were bad, drugs were evil and life ruining. Drugs made you do disgusting and depraved things.
So is that why you fucked your dads best friend?
You really didn't want to do this, you really didn't. You just couldn't stop the itching thought that you needed to try. You really didn't mean to smoke. You just needed a bit to dull the edge, maybe just a pill or two. You've lost your sense of purpose since school ended, there's no will to work with daddy's endless supply of money and no will to go further to learn how to do a meanless job and no will to live with no thrill. Without school there's no entertainment and without work there's nothing to do for the rest of your days. So, like a reasonable person, substance abuse peaks your interest. But it's hard to abuse when the most you've taken was 4 ibuprofen on accident.
He didn't even deal. He was a dad, biweeklybarbecues-uppersuburbs-toomanypairsoftennisshoes-pooloutback-collectsnationalparksouvenirs-kind of dad. You could've fit perfect into his family too, hell, you were even in his kids age range. You could've grown up being his star child, the baby girl of the family. He could've loved you and taught you everything you needed to know, he wouldn't shelter you. He would be the gentle introduction to everything scary, facing the problem instead of avoiding it. He could be the ideal dad to the ideal daughter.
But he wasn't your dad, yet he was willing to give you all the guidance you'd ever need.
When you met him you were at one of the neighborhood get togethers, it was his first barbecue since he'd moved to the neighborhood and of course your daddy and him clicked instantly. Peas in a pod. You smiled and nodded to his jokes you didn't quite understand and thanked him countless times for hosting and inviting. After the barbecue, he found constant reasons to hangout with your family.
Maybe his kids decided not to be deadbeats and moved out, how lucky.
You had only been over to his house alone a few times before, mainly doing chores for him while he was at work for $15 you don't even need. You just needed a distraction and something to entertain you, and his house was very entertaining. Awards lined the walls and photos of his past self haunted the halls. Not that he was bad looking now, because he definitely isn't, but you always took a moment to appreciate (and slightly drool over) old photos of him. It must've been the third of July when he invited you over, alone, while he wasn't working.
You've stumbled across his stash box before, under the bathroom sink in the back left corner right next to the spare washcloths. You never dared peeking inside, what if he had cameras or came home right as your cracked it open? What if he thought you were a fien and were stealing his weed? You knew what was in the box and you wanted to go inside but you knew it was wrong. D.A.R.E and your parents had you trained and obedient to the law.
When he opened the door the smell of skunk punched your nose and made you recoil. You knew the smell exists and faintly what it was like but never so direct, so strong and real. Worst of all, so alluring. You couldn't help but be enticed. But this was his, not yours. Maybe he thought he was sly and doesn't want it to be commented on. Why mention something not worth mentioning?
He leads you in the house you've come to know your way around, with and without him. The two of you enter the kitchen where the counters are covered in grocery bags and the island is scattered with bowls and clean dishes.
"Thank you so much for helping me prepare for tomorrow, your dad wanted me to bring the food but I genuinely don't think I could do it by myself." Matt says with a gentle smile and soft chuckle, his hand finds his beard and nervously twiddles with it.
"No problem, if you have a list of what you want me to do I can start." You offer and start to take groceries out of the bags. Matt lists out what he wants you to do, mainly cutting fruit and organizing the dishes.
Matt helps your rinse fruit, the majority of the time spent in silence or 2 word small talk. He wants to talk but is unsure how, how do you talk to your dads best friend without your dad there?
He grabs a small container of fruit from a small reusable bag and gasps holding them out.
"I forgot I got these, have you ever had them?" He asks with a bright smile across his face revealing his endearing his tooth gap.
"No, are they good?" You ask and watch him from the corner of your eye as he rinses them, they look like some kind of berry. The water pouring from the slits in the plastic is stained a dark maroon. He dumps them out onto folded paper towels before gently patting them dry.
"Here, try." He says putting his thumb on your lower lip, your mouth instinctively opens and your eyes find his. You don't even process the fruit in your mouth until his pointer slowly presses under your jaw to close your mouth for you. You wait to chew, not wanting to scare off his hand.
Maybe this is really what you wanted, you didn't crave drugs or a new hobby. You wanted, no, needed, his affection. This is what you craved. You needed his touch, his guidance.
"Do you like it?" He asks a sly smirk forming on his face.
As hard as you try, you can't form the words to come out. Every syllable stuck in the back of your throat stopped by your epiglottis. You just nod gently on his hand. Enough to get your point across.
His hand slowly comes down to his side and he clears his throat. You look down at the cutting board you were just using, the deep red juice seeping in the cuts and marks of the plastic. You envied the board, all its cuts cracks and crevices being filled. You knew you were disgusting and wrong for being so attracted to him.
"Have you ever eaten fruit 𝘩𝘪𝘨𝘩?" Matt finally asks, breaking the awkward shame-filled silence.
You laugh nervously, was this a interrogation? Or was he offering? Either way your answer was the same.
"I've never gotten high Mr. Stone, if that's what you're trying to ask." You say in what feels like a whisper a giggle hiding behind your words.
He turns his body to fully face you and crouches slightly to be level with you before squinting his eyes and searching your face. Soon amusement and shock take his face.
"Have you ever been curious or anything?" He asks, genuinely amazed.
"I mean, who isn't curious? But my parents would kill me and plus it's 𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘭, Mr. Stone."
"Do you wanna try?" He asks, his voice boyish and giggly.
"Are you offering me 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘴 Mathew?" You ask while your face flushes and start to fill the air with giggles.
"If you're taking, I'm offering." He teases. You shrug in response, unsure what answer he wants your to say or how to react. "You clean up then come to the living room, okay sweetheart?" Your stomach knots tightly at his words and you nod.
You start stacking the containers in the fridge and wipe counters. Were you seriously about to do 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘴 with your dad's best friend?? Was he seriously offering someone younger than both his kids to do something illegal with him?
You sit next to him on the couch and see the box. The bathroom cabinet box. The box you tried to ignore countless times and here it was, ready and waiting for YOU. He opens the small golden latch of the dark cherry wood box. As soon as it opens that repulsivly enticing smell fills your senses. The innards have a velvet lining and nubs in small glass jars. He grabs one of the small jars and unscrews it. "Watch-" He instructs as he pulls out another container, this one metal. He unscrews the cap and a maze of metal is revealed. He traps a small chunk into the grinder and twists it a few times. He unscrews the main part and twists a part off the bottom to reveal a shiny crystally mass. "This, I've been saving. Saving for someone special to share it with. I think you're very special, baby." He says smiling and pulls out a paper and pinching the ground flower into the middle and lifting it. He begins to roll it and just before he licks it sealed he looks up at you, making eye contact.
He grabs a lighter, a basic BIC black one with the sticker peeled off, "You first." He says handing you the lighter and joint.
You cautiously take the twisted paper between your pointer index and your thumb and gently rest it at the part of your lips. Were you seriously about to do this?
"Come on, you got this." He whispers and snakes a hand to your arm tracing the back of his finger down your bicep.
"I-I can't, my dad's going to kill me." You sigh and bring the joint down between your spread knees.
"He won't, if he somehow catches us I'll explain how it's all my fault because it really is sweetie. You're doing nothing wrong. Do you want me to teach you?" He asks resting his hand on your knee and rubbing it with his thumb. You nod and hand him the joint. He straightens his posture and takes it between the mid joints in his first two fingers and brings the lighter up to the end. He lights it and closes his eyes as he breathes in. He brings it down and holds it out to you while letting and exhale of smoke. Skunk never smelt so good until it left his lungs.
You take the twig back to your mouth and take a tiny inhale barely letting it hit the back of your mouth before coughing until you dople over. He leans over and rubs your back chuckling softly.
"You have to slowly let it in, accept it in your lungs it won't hurt too bad, that's what I've found." He says with warmth in his voice. He was probably such a good dad to his boys. He would've raised you to be such a good girl.
He hands you a water bottle and you chug it. The coughing subsided eventually. By now your mascara is messed up and streaming down your face. "Fuck...." You mumble before sniffling.
"Here, try again. I know you'll get this down." He says rubbing your back and handing you the joint again.
You take another puff and this time accept and prepare for the burn. He watches you endearingly and full of admiration and pride. You let the smoke escape through your nose before opening your mouth and a large puff vents from behind your lips and teeth. Almost instantly, probably from the coughing earlier the high hits you. Everything enhances and becomes infocus, one pixel at a time.
You lean back on the couch before tilting to the side onto him, resting your head on his lap. His hand finds your hair and gently strokes your hair. "You're so perfect." He coos at you. He begins to do a loose braid in your hair. He turns on his TV before gently moving you off him.
"Do you want any fruit?" You nod and move to rest your head on your arm. He turns on a random adult cartoon, it looks like a Matt Groening show but not The Simpsons. He comes back with a plate of cut fruit. You sit up and make space from him. He hands you a slide of watermelon.
You take a bite enjoying the fruit as you close your eyes. Watermelon was ok but never this good.
"Oh my god, you're making a mess sweet girl." He chuckles and suddenly you're back to human, completely himulated as you feel the juice dribble down your chin and raise your hand to wipe it before he grabs your wrist. "Wait-" He mumbles before taking his free hand to your chin and lifting your head up. He passionately suckles on your neck traveling up to your chin, collecting all the juice.
His lips find yours and his tounge wastes no time finding the parting of your lips. He aggressively kisses you with all his love and tounge, no teeth just soft warm love.
You've kissed before, who hasn't? But has kissing always felt this good?
His thumb finds the edge of your shirt and he slides his hand to touch your bare skin, that alone almost made your whimper. He snakes his hand to your waist squeezing the fat and skin softly. "Mm come with me" he grumbles between kisses before standing up and slightly roughly grabs your arm and leads you to his room.
You always knew to avoid and never go into his room, you knew you should take advantage of being in his room and memorize every detail but all you care about right now is that growing warm knot in your stomach and static feeling across your whole body and more importantly making it stronger.
You immediately move to the bed and stare up at him, ready and waiting.
"You're so beautiful like this." He says standing between your knees and stroking your cheek.
"Like what?" You ask, you wish you could look away anywhere but him. But you can't bring yourself too. You can't look away from his face, his parental expression warms you in no way words can explain.
"So needy, desperate. Just ready and wanting for me. I can see the hunger in your eyes." He mumbles a smile spread across his face before he takes a step back and drops his hand from your face. He begins unbuckling his belt. You begin to tug at your bottoms before he stops you, "Let me do it for you." He shrugs off his jeans and strips his shirt tossing them in a pile.
He grabs the bottom of your shirt, "Is this ok?" He asks. You nod in response, too entranced to speak. "Thank you baby." He coos as he adds your shirt to his pile. "Was covered in juice anyways." He mumbles as he pushes you gently to lay down.
He tugs off your bottoms and your underwear too. You'd never felt this way before, totally exposed. You understood what was going on and had wanted it, for longer than you'd ever be willing to admit, since the day you met him. The first time your dad introduced him you had your eyes set on him. He begins kissing down your neck as he pulls down his own boxers.
He stares deeply at you, tracing every feature of your face with admiration in his eyes, the perfect girl. Who needs heaven when you have the most obedient lamb who was ready and waiting for the slaughter? Who needs God when you have someone you can go sin for sin, dirtying eachother. Ruining and destroying eachother. You were the scum of the earth with diamonds hidden beneath and he was a lonely old man searching for gold. He wasn't there to clean you and you weren't there to set him up for the rest of his days. You were just two sick, lonely perverts in the limbo between heaven in hell. Afterall, if it felt so right could it really be all that wrong?
He slowly tears you open, stretching and destroying you with a simple slide of his hips. You arch into him, throwing your head back. He finds your hand and interlocks fingers as he starts his first of many slow gentle thrusts, preparing you. He finally does a harsh rough thrust, bottoming out and fully connecting you two. Skin to skin, hair to hair, heart to heart.
"Fuck" He groans, beginning a new stage of thrusts, deeper and more passionate. "Your dads going to fucking kill me, giving his baby girl drugs and then fucking her. What would he think about this? What would he think about you?" He groans and speeds up as he talks, bottoming out each thrust.
"I- I'm sorry." You whimper to the air your eyes welling with tears from shame and pleasure.
"Don't apologize yet, only we know for now." He groans into your ear, his voice gruff.
His thrusts become quicker, deeper, borderline violent. You'd scream in pain and push him off, run away and never come back but connection has never felt so good. You knew he was teaching you, he was guiding you and helping you learn to take him. Take his love, even when it hurts.
You can feel the bruises form on your insides, only making the tender flesh more sensitive to the pleasure. He moves a hand to your nub gently rubbing it in contrast of the rough thrusting. The new feeling only builds onto the pleasure and you instinctively wrap your legs around his hips. He leans closer onto you resting his sweaty forehead on your collarbone and his one arm holding him above you quivering.
"Fuck I'm so close" he mumbles, his voice shaking.
"Let it all out in me." You beg, your voice quivering almost sounding like a sob, which would fit with the tears streaming down your cheeks.
"I-I can't that's so fucked, I'm not wearing a condom." He says, speeding up even more his own body contradicting himself. His thrusts are sloppy, needy, you can feel how lonely he was before you. How bad he needed you.
"Please Matt, I want you to fill me, make me yours. Make me complete." You whisper the plea, that's all it took. With one rough deep thrust you feel him pump around you. You clench tighter, encouraging more product. The warmth fills every cack and crevice inside you, making you his from the inside out.
He rests there hovering over your face. Sweat drips from above and onto your cheek, his sweat mixing with your tears. Sweat, tears and most likely blood has been shed with him. You were completely his from the first puff, first handshake, first cleaning job. You knew it was only time until he chose you. Until he picked you for the slaughter.
"This is our secret, right baby?" He whispers, voice weak and giving out, he was no longer the one guiding.
South Park was nominated for Best Animated Show (for Sermon on the Mount) and Trey was nominated for Best Voice Acting for Satan. 🙄 Trey was also nominated for Best Song for “Christian Woman”, which I have no memory of.
I’m sure South Park will sweep because, Trump, even though it was their laziest season ever (and the episode that they’re nominated for was one of the worst ever, but, Trump’s micro-penis!)
It just irks me that they didn’t win (or weren’t even nominated) when they did truly brilliant work, and that Trey will win an acting Emmy before Matt (the better voice actor) for freaking Satan (I’m still not over Matt losing the Emmy for Tweak x Craig).
it’s so hard being in like any fandom that’s like of real people especially if it’s like from the 2000s or 90s because all the interviews and media are like ONLY on youtube and im super anti youtube and don’t have it 😔
