Do you think that this the longest, sickest, and most twisted story ever told?

I was once a guidance counselour at a high school, but was fired. Then, I became a mall security guard, but was fired. Now I live with my mom.





This time of year, girl scouts come around our neighborhood collecting donations for charities. One fine afternoon, a group of a few girls came up to my house and asked for a donation. It made me angry to think that they were going around conning people out of their hard earned money and giving it to some charity called %26#039;Riley%26#039;s Children%26#039;s Hospital.%26#039; But anyway, I reached into my pocket, pulled out 12 cents in change, some lint, and an old piece of hard candy and threw it into their jar, then slammed the door shut.





I peered out of the peephole in my door and saw the little girl counting out the change. She took out four quarters, handed them to her mother, and her mother handed her a dollar to put in the jar. I heard her say something about making the jar easier to carry, but I%26#039;m not stupid, I knew what they were really up to.





So I quickly threw on my shoes and hopped in my car. I tailed the young con artist for twenty blocks until she, her friends, and her mom all got into their mini-van and headed home.





I took down her address and then drove to the local hardware store. I picked up a crowbar and some matches, then went by the gas station and bought twenty gallons of unleaded gasoline.


I then played the waiting game. I waited and waited until the sun went down and night set in.





I got into my closet, pulled on some work gloves and a ski mask, then set out for the con artist%26#039;s house. I snuck around back and encountered my first obstacle, the family dog. I made a trail of sausages leading from her yard to ten miles down the road and let the dog free to follow it. Once I returned to the backyward, I saw that the con artist and her friends were having a slumber party. It disgusted me. As they sat eating their dinner, I realized I needed a distraction of some sort. I whipped out my cell phone and dialed the number for the local Pizza Hut. I order eighteen extra large pizzas with olives, tomatoes, mushrooms, bacon, anchovies, onions, peppers, sausage, ham, pineapple, pepperoni, and zucchini on top, 16 orders of cheezy breads, twenty two liters of coke, and 600 wings to their address. The bill came to $873.34.


A couple of hours later I watched in delight as a young pizza boy struggled to push a wheel barrow full of food up to the house. He was out of breath as he rang the doorbell. The con artist%26#039;s father answered the door and informed the por young pizza boy that he did not order that food. The pizza boy began to cry in fear of losing his job, but the father of the con artist comforted him and told him that he would pay for the food anyway, and gave him a nice sized tip.


The father the retreated into the house with the food, declaring to his family that God had sent them the pizza and that they needed to use it for a specific reason. He said they could have all the pizza they wanted and they he would take some of it down to the local homeless shelter. I then made sure that the food would never arrive, by cutting the brake cables on his car. When they all went outside to load the food into the car, I broke the back upstairs window with a crowbar. I got inside her parent%26#039;s roomand began to trash the place. I found family photos, baby journals, wedding photos, and a multitude of other things that I set on fire. The smell of the smoke must have carried to the other upstairs rooms, because the older deadbeat teenage brother of the conartist soon entered the room. I quickly silenced him by knocking him out with the crowbar, then threw him outside from the second floor. I set fire to her father%26#039;s immigration papers and put his green card through their paper shredder.





I then entered the con artist%26#039;s brother%26#039;s room. It had all kinds of books which I tore the pages out of. I also found that he had left his cell phone on and charging, so I took pictures of my genitals and sent them to his family, friends, and his girlfriend along with a message that read %26quot;F*ck you, c*ckf*ckers!!%26quot; I tore down all of his posters and pissed on his bed. I found a small safe that said %26quot;top secret.%26quot; I picked the lock to find a marijuana cigarette, a lighter, a wallet sized photo of a blonde haired girl with several love letters from her. I stole the marijuana, then edited the love letters to describe very inappropriate things, then I drew a moustache in permanent ink on her picture. I put them back inside the safe, along with anything of value I could find in his room that was useless to me. I then took out an old key I had with me and broke it off in the lock, then put the safe through the back window. A delightful crash came from the inside and I knew that all his beloved possesions were ruined.





Once I finished drawing on the walls with permanent marker, I decided to go outside and look in their garage. I heard the clan of con artists outside loading the car, as I began work on the minivan in the garage. I scratched up the paint and broke off the rear view mirrors. I used my trusty crowbar to smash the head and tail lights. I got inside that car and used the crowbar to pop out the stereo, which I slipped into my gunny sack. I searched the glove compartment and found all sorts of insurance papers, which i tore to shreds, then stole all the cds in the car. I took a bucket from the garage, filled it with water, then filled the gas tank with water. I slashed the tires then popped the hood and did major damage to the engine. I tore up the fabric on the seats and smashed the rest of the windows. I stole the hubcaps and then exited the garage.





My next stop was the toolshed. Inside were several expensive tools, drills, power wrenches, hammers, nail guns. I stole everything I could, then filled the gas tank of their brand new John Deer lawnmower with sand that were placed convieniently in the corner of the shed. I then took out the key, broke off the steering wheel, and took off the mower blade. I left the steering wheel outside the door of the shed, threw the key in the woods by the shed, and then used the blade to puncture their air conditioner.


I walked over the brother of the con artist on my way back to the house and saw that he had begun to wake up, so I kicked him in the head a couple of times so make sure he was still unconcious. I reached into his pocket and stole his wallet, then gave him another kick in the head just for the hell of it.





I climbed back up into the house and crept into the hallway. I heard a toilet flush. One of the con artist%26#039;s accomplices stood in the hallway, looking at me with her jaw dropped. I atatcked swiftly, striking her head with the crowbar. I was sure she was unconcious as I stuffed her into the laundry chute, where she fell ot the basement and landed on a soft pile of clothes. I then went into the bathroom of the con artist%26#039;s house and began to trash it. I squeezed the containers of toothpaste and shampoo everywhere, spread the floss out so it looped on everything everywhere. I clogged up the toilet and then took a dump in it. I tore down the shower curtains and broke the tiles on the bathrooms wall with the curtain rod. I then cracked open the medicine cabinet, salvaged the perscription drugs, then began to generously distribute asprins, tylenol, pepto bismo, and all sorts of cought syrups all over the bathroom floor. I then clogged the shower, and took a dump in it and on the floor then smeared it everywhere. I coated the walls in vaseline, then broke the bathroom scale. I then smashed the bathroom mirror. I noticed a small decoration of shells and air freshener leaves on the back of the toilet. I quickly took the leaves and crumpled them up, then stomped on the shells until they had broken up into dust. I took shaving cream and sprayed it everywhere, then broke the sink off the wall and smashed the toilet seat. I plugged the hole in the wall with toilet paper, and then took the rest of the paper and spread it everywhere in the bathroom, then used the remaining toothpaste to create a sort of paper machet which covered much if the bathroom floor. I took down any decorations that hung on the wall and did away with them. I then spilled the wastebasket on the floor and left.





I then entered the den. I immediately began to search the drawers and found all sorts of important insurance papers regarding fore, burglary, life insurance, automobiles, and several other important things. I quickly reached into my bag and produced the lighter I had stolen from the con artist%26#039;s brother. I lit the papers and watched in delight as all they had worked for and spent their hard earned money on was engulfed in flames and disappeared.





I then sat up at the computer desk and began to browse what was stored on their computer. I first went to %26#039;my documents%26#039; and deleted all sorts of important business presentations that the father of the con artist had prepared for work. I then went to %26#039;my pictures%26#039; and highlighted everything. I felt a burst of happiness as my finger pressed down on the delete button. I then visited a host of certain websites that I know of and downloaded loads and loads of hardcore, illegal pornography. I set their desktop background to one of these most delightful pictures and left the rest to pollute all sorts of other files on their computer. It was then that I realized I had saved her father%26#039;s wallet from the flames, so I quickly opened it up to search it. My hands pulled out a credit card. I quickly went to all sorts of different sites ranging from adult toy stores to automobile sites. I ordered thousands of dollars of stuff to random addresses around the city, and to top it all off, I back ordered a Lamborghini Murcielago. Just then, her brother%26#039;s cell phone went off, and I was buffeted by several angry messages from his friends and family responding to the highly offensive pictures that I sent them. In order to further the damage done to this boy, I visited MySpace.com from their computer and found that his password had saved to the computer. I got on and gave his page a complete makeover. The background was now a large disgusting picture, and his profile picture was a picture of my genitals. I sent offensive messages to everyone on his list. I realized that all passwords would automatically save into this computer, so I got into his email and changed his myspace password, then cancelled his email account.


This all gave me another idea. According to the notes placed on the top of the desk, her father had an email account as well. I tried to get into it and was delighted to find that the password had been saved. I went through it and found all sorts of business contacts, family, and friends, and bombarded all of them with disgusting hardcore pornography via email. One man, who had been given the title of %26#039;boss%26#039; on the email contacts list, was especially important for me to offend. I found the most offensive and disgusting videos and photos I could, and sent them to his address, along with a short and sweet message telling him that those were the things I did to his wife last night. To top this all off, I went and found as many filed as I possibly could that had viruses in them and downloaded them to their computer.





I then smashed the monitor, keyboard, mouse, printer, and speakers. I did as much damage as I possibly could to everything but the CPU, hoping that the FBI would still be able to see all the things I had left there. I trashed the rest of the den, knocking over book cases, breaking the TV, but stealing the game consoles from there along with several cds and game discs. My crowbar aided me in breaking up the expensive leather sofa in the den. I tore off the wall paper and shattered the several vases I found over the fireplace. I filled the fireplace up with the rest of the sand that I had found in the shed.





I was then on my way to my final destination, the room of the con artist herself. I walked inside and noticed the disgusting pink wallpaper, which became my first objective. I tore it all off and left it on the floor. Then I tore open her pillows and let the feathers fly. With little difficulty, I tore the hell out of her mattress. I ripped up her stuffed animals and the moved on to the items on her shelf. I tore the pages out of all of her picture books and smashed the tiny treasures I found there. I soon came across her backpack, which was filled with many different things for school, such as books that belonged to the school. I ripped them up and bent the covers. I broke off her shelves and left them to sit on the floor along with the huge mess of things. I ripped her backpack to shreds, and out of it fell her diary. I tore the pages out and ate them. Next to the bed I saw that there was a phone. A girl so young had no right to use a phone, especially a con artist like her, so I threw it across the room and it smashed to pieces. I grabbed a large number of pictures


and other decorations off of the wall and broke them. I found some drawings made in art class by the con artist so I set them on fire. I pulled out her drawers and emptied them onto the floor, and tore up all of her clothes. In her closet I found a uniform that had several badges on it that read %26#039;Girl Scouts of America.%26#039; I was smart enough to know that it was a really a uniform given to foot soldiers in an empire of con artists, so I ripped off the patches and badges and used them to pin the uniform to the shower curtain rod, and I made a flag to protest the actions of this evil empire. I found boxes of Barbie dolls and things like Barbie cars and houses in her closet. I took the dolls and put them in wild disgusting sexual positions, with Ken being the center of each one. I crashed the car into the wall a few times which did nothing, so I stomped on it to smash it. I disassembled the houses and threw the screws out the window. I left the Barbies there, but not before using a pair of scissors to give them all haircuts and remove a couple unneccesary arms and legs that were on them. It was time to make my escape, so I headed down the hallway for the room with the window I had used to make my entry. Before I could make it through, I heard the mother of the con artist call up the stairs to her brother, who unbeknownst to her was lying in the back yard, knocked out. She called up the stairs saying that her and her husband were headed to the homelss shelter to deliver the pizzas and that he was to watch the girls. I called back doing the best that I could to sound like a low-life worthless deadbeat teenage junkie, and was convincing enough to convince the mother of the con artist. I watched out the window as the car started up and pulled away.





It was time for my final revenge. I got out the cell phone I had stolen and called 9-11 to say that a drunken madman had just taken off with a heroine addict prostitute and was a danger to himself and others. I gave them detailed directions on an appropriate place to ambush the car. I laughed maniacally at the damage I had caused.





It was time. I grabbed my supplies and headed downstairs. The girl scouts sat in a circle, singing campfire songs. They screamed upon sight of me. They all got up and ran, except for the con artist, who stood frozen with fear. I tried to hit her with the crowbar but she dodged it and ran upstairs. I chased after her, and stood at the end of the hallway, watching her uncover all the damage I had done. She tried every door, seeing the damage that had been done to everything that she loved and cherished. The last door she opened was her room. She screamed in terror and began to cry. I I gave a loud laugh, but stopped suddenly when I heard a yelling from outside. I peered out the window to see that the girl scouts has found their friend in the basement and dragged her safely, along with the con artist%26#039;s brother, to the front lawn. I now realized that there was only one way out of this. It was then that the twenty gallons of gasoline I had purchased would com ein handy. I ran from room to room, upstairs and downstairs, covering everything in gasoline. I even ventured outside and covered the toolshed and garage. I was sure to pick up the brother of the con artist%26#039;s safe and throw it back inside where it would be eaten by the flames. I first lit the toolshed, then spread gasoline all over the backyard and lit it, ruining their lawn for good. Then I torched their minivan and lit the garage. Lastly, I ran upstairs to make a final check and make sure everything was soaked. I stopped dead in front of the con asrtist%26#039;s room. There she was, escaping down a ladder. I looked outside and saw that all of her friends were hanging on the side of this ladder with her at the top, all climbing down trying to escape my grasp. Without a second thought, I whacked the con artist in the head with my crow bar, causing her to being to lost balance. Then, I pushed the ladder down. There was a symphony of loud screeches ending with a thud. All of them were knocked unconcious. I made a final, daring move and slipped downstairs to steal a pizza and found that the jar of change collected to build the con artist%26#039;s empire was there. I then lit the final match, and the whole upstairs exploded in flames. I jumped from the top floor window and onto the lawn. I then flew the flag I had made in the con artist%26#039;s front yard and set it on fire. I heard sirens in the distance and began to run for my car. But before I could get there, I heard an angry growling. I looked to see that the con artist%26#039;s dog had returned home, still hungry. The dog dove for my neck and mauled me, but I was still able to escape. I got into my car and sped away. On the way home, I saw an intersection with two totaled cars, one of them was the con artist%26#039;s father%26#039;s car. The proud parents of the con artist stood with their hands on the side of a cop car. I slowed down to watch this spectacular scene. I heard that father telling the police officer that he was sure he had insurance papers in the drawer at home. Just then, a couple of firetrucks, police cars, and ambulances sped down the road towards the con artist%26#039;s house.


Now a nationwide search has been declared to find the one who did this, but all the evidence that could have pointed police in the right direction was destroyed in the fire. Looks like now somebody has learned a valuable lesson, to never, EVER be a con artist.

Do you think that this the longest, sickest, and most twisted story ever told?
No, it was interesting, but not that sick. I used to write stuff like that a few years ago. To make it sick, you have to kind of make it believable. For example, you can%26#039;t cut the brake cables of a car that quickly. ;)





Anyway, if you like this kind of story, check out the book %26quot;Haunted%26quot;, by Chuck Palahniuk. The sickest story I%26#039;ve ever read was from that book; it%26#039;s a short story called %26quot;Guts%26quot;. (You can Google it and read it online.)
Reply:ok, i skimmed the last part, but wow thats twisted.


did you make that up? i thought it was real at first, actually im still suspicious.....





lolzzzzz very...well, sick really...
Reply:What?
Reply:Hmph. It%26#039;s a good story . BUT- how come all I get to work with when I ask a question is 1000 characters? Not fair!
Reply:Well it%26#039;s really long, but really stupid. I mean getting that upset and calling it a con to switch 4 quarters for a dollar? Also why is the guy staring out the peephole, and why do they do this where he sees them. Peepholes don%26#039;t give that great of a view. Too much to make it unbelievable to me. That%26#039;s why I can%26#039;t really give it the sick and twisted part.
Reply:what was the point in that!!!


you must be a very bored dude to write a stupid story like that!!!!!!!


that was such a stupid thing to waste my and your time on!!!!
Reply:Actually, pretty sure nobody will find that funny.





I enjoy any kind of humor, and that, wasn%26#039;t funny.





To top it off, it was poorly constructed, used bad grammer, horrible usage and largely made a mockery of the english composition.





Now...you as a person, I find funny.
Reply:Too long to read
Reply:i read it...it was sick and disgusting and cruel.





at least it isnt true.
Reply:Pretty close to the sickest. You definitely need mental help.



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