X Reader Parodies

A Very Special Chapter

(Full Title: Billy Mays x The Green Giant x Mr. T x Mr. Rogers x Kiibo x Saeran x Mental Stability x Gachapoid x Len x Al Gore)

basically a big compilation of the characters i've written for + a couple new ones

dedicated to @shatteredmemmory for inspiring me to create this monstrosity

PLEASE READ: this story is a deranged product of a diseased mind. it is filthy and accursed, and should only be viewed by those who are strong of mind and stomach. should either your mind or body be broken by the lovecraftian text found within this story, know that you were given fair warning. good luck, and big balls.

specific tw: vulgar language (as always), drug usage, gore, graphic violence against children, implied pedophilia/pedophilic comments, slavery pertaining mostly to children though not exclusively, incest, murder, implied bestiality, albert fish-level cannibalism, demons, and a degree of sexual content. viewer discretion is STRONGLY ADVISED.

the behavior exhibited in this story is neither condoned nor practiced by the writer. this was written to see how deep of a rabbit hole i could dig. do not be a child murderer.

--

Mr. Rogers sat alone and still, a usual occurrence for him nowadays. He was watching TV and eating a bowl of child stew. This one had been a screamer. He had just shown up to his door, squawking like a bird, yelling, "Hi mister! My name's Gachapoid! Wanna hear a song?"

It had been all too easy to take the bat that Mr. Rogers usually preserved for seal-clubbing and beat the little snot's brains out. After that, Mr. Rogers had taken the time to carefully cleave out the tasty bits from the child. Not much-- just the flanks and the thighs. Juicy, juicy thighs. Then he mixed it all together in a bowl, added some paprika and a dash of walrus tears, and set it to cook for two hours. Of course, by that point the meat was so charred it tasted like a hunk of bark that survived a forest fire.

Mr. Rogers didn't mind, of course. Charred meat was the best kind, and thighs were a gift from God.

A world away, in the land of the rising sun, Kagamine Len sat alone in a shitty apartment in the middle of ass-fuck nowhere. Unlike Miku, he didn't rake in the big bucks. As he sat there, stewing in his own juices, he thought to himself, 'Rin's out to get groceries. Only one thing to do when I'm in the apartment alone...'

Swiftly, he pulled out his shitty bootleg hand-me-down tablet, and typed in 'Kagamine Rin R-18'. "Nothing like a bit of incest in the morning to get me HARD," Len belched out the last word like a puff of mustard gas. Suddenly, the TV sprang to life.

"HI, BILLY MAYS HERE WITH A SPECIAL TV OFFER!" The voice rang throughout the dingy and unkempt room. "ARE YOU TIRED OF DOING YOUR OWN FISTING? TIRED OF SHOVING YOUR NICE, CLEAN HANDS INTO THE CRUSTY, STD-RIDDLED ASSHOLES OF YOUR FRIENDS AND NEIGHBORS? WELL, HERE'S THE SOLUTION TO ALL YOUR PROBLEMS! INTRODUCING THE DRILLDO!"

"Well, that looks like a good time," Len whispered under his breath, his attention drifting from the tablet to the TV set.

"THE DRILLDO IS FAST, RELIABLE, AND MACHINE WASHABLE! HERE'S HOW IT WORKS; ALL YOU NEED TO DO IS TAKE ANY HOUSEHOLD DRILL, ATTACH THE SPECIALIZED DRILLDO UNIT AND ACCOMPANYING PROSTHETIC ARM, FIND AN ASSHOLE, AND DRILL!" Billy Mays screeched enthusiastically, waving the Drilldo around like a flag. "DRILL YOUR FRIENDS! DRILL YOUR NEIGHBORS! DRILL YOUR PETS! ALL WITH THE DRILLDO!"

"That sounds wonderful!" Len cried out, envisioning Rin's taut buttocks and alluringly short skirt.

"NOW, YOU FOLKS AT HOME ARE PROBABLY WONDERING HOW MY OLD, DEAD ASS IS ON YOUR TV SCREEN! WELL, IT'S REAL SIMPLE FOLKS: I'M BROADCASTING TO YOU FROM HELL. THAT'S RIGHT-- HELL! AND IT'S WITH THEIR SPONSORSHIP THAT I GIVE YOU THIS LIMITED TIME OFFER! ORDER IN THE NEXT 5 MINUTES, AND YOU'LL GET ONE ALL EXPENSES PAID TRIP TO HELL! STAY AT OUR LUXURY APARTMENTS OF SUFFERING IN FRONT OF THE SCENIC LAKE OF FIRE! ORDER NOW AND I'LL THROW IN TWO DRILLDOS FOR THE PRICE OF ONE! THAT'S TWICE THE DRILL FOR HALF THE FUN!" Billy Mays shrilled as he bent over an attendant and shoved a Drilldo into his ass. Blood splattered all over the camera as the man screamed. The camera suddenly cut to Billy Mays holding a bloody Drilldo.

"ORDER RIGHT NOW!" He exclaimed as he gave a thumbs up to the camera. The commercial then cut.

Len hurriedly raced from his spot on the couch to grab the phone, dialing the number that had been displayed on the screen.

"I'd like one Drilldo, please!" Len managed to choke out before he was dragged into the fiery pits through a hole that had been ripped into the floor.

Back in Mr. Roger's neighborhood, he had just finished his bowl of Gachapoid stew. "Oh Golly me; I'm getting low on groceries. I better head on over to the child store and grab some fresh meat," Mr. Rogers spoke to himself, slipping on his penny loafers.

Heading on down to the child store, Mr. Rogers was greeted with quite the sight. He saw plenty of little children with their beady little eyes looking at him. 'Save us,' said their eyes, but their stupid little rat faces said, 'KILL US! KILL US!' He even saw a dirty, starving, cracked-out Mr. T huddled in one of the cages. "Help... me... foooooool..." He croaked out before Mr. Rogers whipped out a magnum and shot him in the face.

"You break it, you buy it!" Called out the shop's owner, shaking his fist.

"Oh, deary me, how much was he?"

"500 dollars!"

"Golly, I only got 750. I need me a new house slave-- how am I gonna pay for any other ones?"

"Look, I like you. Maybe we can work out a deal?" The shop owner offered, leaning over the counter. "We found this broken down piece of crap in the remains of a blown up school. He's not really a child, but he looks like one. If you give me the 750, I'll consider it payment for him and the biggun."

"Oh, golly, thank you mister. A good deed can change a heart and save a soul," Mr. Rogers mused as he handed over the money.

"Indeed they can," the shop owner replied before turning sharply and kicking one of the cages. "QUIET DOWN!" He commanded. The children weren't making any noise.

As Mr. Rogers was walking home, broken down boy robot and middle aged dead man in tow, he encountered an ad for the Al Gore political campaign.

"That man sure does get me hard. I'll make sure to send him a vote and some money for his campaign. Then maybe I'll kidnap him and hold him for ransom," Mr. Rogers thought out loud before he continued on down the road to his neighborhood.

Faraway, in the distant land of South Korea, Saeran and the Jolly Green Giant sat on the side of a mountain, contemplating life together.

"I just don't know, man. I've been through a lot of shit," Saeran murmured woefully as he reached over and plucked a leaf off of the giant's wrinkly green sack, rolling it up into a blunt and lighting it. "My adoptive mother drugged me up and made me join her cult. I've got edgelord eyes and yaoi hair, and my twin stays up all hours of the night fucking his girlfriend. The only friends I have I only really hang out with through a chatroom."

"Y'know what, man?" The giant spoke, placing a hand on his pal's back. "I know it's hard, but you just gotta let that shit go. You got out of that circle a lot earlier than most people. Some people don't get out until they're 40 or 50, and they already have kids of their own that they've indoctrinated. You're young, and the hooks they have in you aren't too deep. When you pull 'em out, the scars they leave won't be too big. It won't be easy, and it won't feel great at first-- but you need to dump this cult now while you're young, and before they find things they can really threaten you with. Like I said, won't be easy, but it's what you gotta do."

"You know what? You're right," Saeran grinned, staring off into the mist of the mountains. "I don't gotta let these freaks control me no more! It's my life and I can live it however the hell I want to!"

Unfortunately, as Saeran's mind finally reached a state of stability, a higher and surprisingly fragile balance of the universe was irreversibly fucked up. Saeran closed his eyes and smiled, and in an instant, the universe surrounding him imploded. Thank God.

fin.

~final thoughts~

Look bros, I'm gonna level with ya-- I was bound by oath to write this. It wasn't easy, and many tears were shed along with a little bit of blood, most of which landed directly onto a sacrificial altar. But here we are. We made it. I would say this story has changed me, but it really hasn't. I'm quite unaffected. Don't really know about you guys though. Maybe someone will be really horribly affected by this and do something really terrible that I'll have on my conscious forever. So if you're one of those people, please don't link yourself to me. I'd rather remain blissfully unaware of the horrific consequences of my actions. Ciao!