My mom stepped on my turtle on purpose

[Uncle Smoov]

I don't really feel fancy posting such personal stuff here, but I really need some guidance on this issue. I hope you guys can understand.

Chapter One: In which a certain mother steps onto a certain birthday cake

Today was my birthday, and my mother's a bitch. My sisters are orphans and have to work at a razorblade factory for two shiny nickels a day. They saved up all quarter to get me a birthday cake that said "Happy Birthday Brother Smoov." It said "Up Yours" instead. My sisters never went to school so they can't spell.
When the cake got to my house, my mom thought that it was for her and got pissed off. She stomped on it really hard, and the whole thing flew everywhere there was in the kitchen. The worst part, though, is that when she crushed the stripper inside to death, she blamed it on me and I spent the night in prison. There I met a pickpocket nicknamed Fingers and a heretic named Toes.

Chapter Two: In which Smoov's cellmates tunnel out

Fingers was an ugly thing. He had a stupid toothless grin and something on his forehead that looked kind of like a horn. He left a mute wife and an infant son so that he could pursue imprisonment. He never wrote back when he got letters. When he picked peoples pockets, he’d cut them on their other side to distract them. His real name was Renatus, and I wondered if anyone sucked more than he did. But that was before I met Toes.
Toes was blind and kept his eyes uncovered. He said his real name was Nevan, and he wouldn’t shut up. He got his name because he drove toe trucks full of dangerous freight for a living. They were hard to drive for most people because they had nails for windshields. Toes had sent a minister over a pew and onto his head to read to the astounded parishioners from a book in Braille he’d written on the subject of worship.
Fingers and Toes tunneled out of the cell with their strongest set of extremities, but before they could finish, their time had been prepared. They were dragged, clawing for their lives, by the guards out of the narrow tunnels to be made into haze. They were burned at the stake, and the guards threw me into the flames too, because some cretin left the refrigerator open overnight and spoiled the hamburger meat. All the screaming the three of us did I think damaged my ears more than the flames eating them.

Chapter Three: In which Smoov finds himself in the Pit

I figured this time I would give Hell a whirl. I pulled myself out of some deep mud. I walked around and heard a squeal of agony under my crampon-laced feet. I hopped backwards and saw the muddiest, most humbled D.nox imaginable, previously invisible under the mud.
“Hey, loser,” I cracked wittily.
“You nicknamed me the Hog. Gluttony was my offense, and for it I lie here like a log.” D.Nox’s wobbling body spewed back face-first into the mud. I rolled my eyes and put a toothpick in my mouth. I didn’t want to get my hands muddy so I kept walking. I surfed down to the center of Hell on some damned soul’s back. I saw Satan chilling out.
“Hey, man,” I said coolly.
Satan spit thedoll, who soared into a giant spitoon and made a loud low ring upon impact, out of one his mouths. “Smoov? What’s up, bro? I wasn’t expecting you to come down here. What happened to your idea of conquering Heaven by powning the Lord?”
“That was boring,” I yawned. “I’m back into craps now.” I flicked a pair of dice in the air and caught them both with two fingers. Then I put on my gambling sunglasses.
“I’m a little short on cash,” Satan avoided eye contact with me.
“Forget cash, douche bag,” I put him in his place. “Let’s make this really interesting. If you win, you can chew me for eternity, no questions asked.”
“That sounds good, Smoov,” quavered Satan.
“What did you just call me?”
“Smoov?”
I grabbed Satan’s horn and twisted it in my wicked harsh fist. “You’ll address me by my full name. Say uncle. Say it,” I suggested, as Satan ineffectually tried to scrape off his horn.
“I’m sorry, uncle! Uncle Smoov, uncle!” he cried.
“Don’t interrupt me again,” I said awesomely. “When I win, you have to give me Hell, put on a humiliating devil costume and greet the damned as they enter by saying, ‘Through me you pass into the City of Hoes.’ You’ll also be wearing a sign on your pendulous gonads under which all of the angry new tenants will walk. The sign will say ‘Bruise these and I’ll pass out from eternal pain.’”
No sooner had we shaken on it than I threw the craps into the air and caught them in my teeth. Snake eyes. The Dev pushed me into his empty mouth. As I type I’m being Lucifer licked with Satan slaver as fiery fangs hell hack me. I’m really depressed.
The moral of this whine is that Satan rules in Hell and at craps, and also that I cut myself so I can tell people about it later.

[Smile]

Ehehehe, well that was refreshing. Cutting yourself=more pain + feeling like a total idiot later (x2).

[Saddiction]

Ha! That was great!

[Anguelon]

Great storyline!

[Uncle Smoov]

How come you guys are being big callous oaves? You're almost more oafish that Underwater Oaf. I ask for nothing more than your mercy and your shoulders to help me through my imprisonment, execution, gambling addiction, trainwreck megalomania, damnation, self-injurious behavior, and ruined birthday cake. And all that I see you are capable of in support are replies with sentiments of relief and and cheer! So much for "a friendly community site designed to provide a supportive venue for Uncle Smoov and his creative and artistic interests." I thought you 'gothics' were all about acceptance, agreeing with each other, and approachability. You've made me a very sad birthday boy.

[Saddiction]

My favorite part was the dead stripper

[d.Nox]

I'd love to help you out, Smoov, but as you'll recall I'm face down in the muck.

You got my sin wrong, though.

[Senor_Sadomachism]

You were being serious? Looks more like a storyline to me... whatever happened to "woe is me?" It is the Whining Section and I was about to say shouldn't this be in Literature? By the way... us "gothics" are no different than anyone else in the planet. Sure we look differently etc. But that doesn't make us any different, we're all = cause were human right? Anywho... nightey night!

[Senor_Sadomachism]

Heck yeah we're friendly, those two fingers going up my butthole kind of friendly. >.< I'm really sexual tonight sooo GOOD NIGHT AGAIN!

[Lapin]

(Looks a Z. Smoov's writing)

You are a silly one.

(Wanders away)

[Dancing_in_rain]

So what happened to the turtle in the end? And seriously, why are you talking to people called FIngers and Toes?

That's weird man. But I sympathize with all your woes.

[LaBelleDameSansMerci]

Was the turtle even mentionned anywhere other than the title?

[Uncle Smoov]

Originally Posted by LaBelleDameSansMerci

Was the turtle even mentioned anywhere other than the title?

Yeah, in the next post:

Originally Posted by Dancing_in_rain

So what happened to the turtle in the end? And seriously, why are you talking to people called Fingers and Toes?

That's weird man. But I sympathize with all your woes.

It's sort of a sensitive issue, but I surfed down to the center of Hell on her back. I didn't want to say anything because... I was af... afraid I'd tear up. It was awf... awful, one moment I'm taking her for a walk and the next, a hawk scoops her up and cracks its beak on her shell. The moment af... after that it dropped her, right under the tread of my unstoppable mother. And now she's in Hell? Oh, god, now you got me started. I only hung out with Fingers and Toes because they were the only friends I had in the six cubic feet of space allotted. I know they're not the right kind of crowd but they're dead now. I'm in such a mess. If you guys weren't here, I don't know what I'd do. Probably run my wrists through and drop into SubHell.

[Dancing_in_rain]

Poor Uncle Smoov. And poor turtle. I think you should buy yourself an ostrich. They're very good companions you know!

[Corpsey]

Oh my, that was quite a tale.

It made me laugh quite a lot though.

Sucks to be burnt just because someone left the fridge door open...

[Valerius]

You're like a more sophisticated and eloquent version of Duckman. Wait! You might actually be Duckie but under a different username!

[d.Nox]

I'd had that same thought myself. Think... Have you ever seen Duckman and Smoov posting in the same thread? Well, have you?

[Dancing_in_rain]

*thinks*
....
*brain hurts*

I can't think now. YOU THINK!

[Uncle Smoov]

Originally Posted by Valerius

You're like a more sophisticated and eloquent version of Duckman. Wait! You might actually be Duckie but under a different username!

I wouldn't let this Duckman shine my shoes (Hah! As if they need shining), let alone let him be the same person as I am. It's a cogent observation on your part to describe me as sophisticated and eloquent, but these are qualities a base creature such as 'Duckie' could never even hope to emulate. Your suspicions as to my identity insult me, as though anyone could simply pretend to be the celebrated literary figure that I am. These suspicions are also very easily refuted: I am Uncle Smoov.

[Stuporman]

I don't care what anyone says, your sorrowful yarn really spoke to me. I really felt the Devil's own incisors crushing down on me. You have a real knack for empathy. Gettin' it published?

[LaBelleDameSansMerci]

Originally Posted by Dancing_in_rain

Poor Uncle Smoov. And poor turtle. I think you should buy yourself an ostrich. They're very good companions you know!

Ostritches hustle about very nicely. Fabulous sight to behold.

Or, if you like drumsticks, they have very large ones.