Macaulay Culkin's asshole

In my mind Macaulay Culkin's asshole is a prim pink bunny's nose, but in reality it's torn up, like my own, probably from years of hardcore drugs and sex.  Macaulay Culkin's asshole is the first thing I see on my computer every morning, and sometimes I get so hard, I don't even need Viagra.  I need the Viagra in the first place because I'm a heroin addict and I can't get erect.

Anyway, it was a typical day--me jerking off to Macaulay Culkin's asshole--when Todd Parker pulled up.  "Todd Parker is a guy you're perpetually wary off but his coolness hypnotizes you because you want to fuck him and you want to be him," I scribbled in a notebook.

Knock, knock, knock.

Creeeeak.  The door aches open to reveal Todd Parker.  With a mini high top, leather jacket, tight red tshirt, and leather pants, and he looks like a porno actor from the 1970s.  Todd sloshes around the gum he's chewing and he stares at me while I stare at the ground.

"So," Todd finally says.  "Are you going to tell me the punchline or what?"

"Todd, I don't know the punchline," I whisper.  "Just go away man."  My voice barely rises above a hoarse rasp as I struggle to shut the door, but somehow Todd is overpowering me.  He's pushing his way into my house.  Somehow, he's moving the prison cell tight door over me, on top of me.  Finally I can't resist, and Todd barges in.

"What's the punchline," Todd demands, and I say I don't know.

The grin Todd aims at me is made of ash.  He walks over to me, puts me in a headlock, and rubs his knuckles into my hair.

"Get away," I squeal, and Todd actually lets go of me.  I stand up, brush myself off, and look Todd in the eye.  "What?" I say, daring him.

Todd sighs a fake sigh.  "Oh," and then he speaks my name.  "You don't want to talk to me like that.  You really do not want to talk to me like that."

From his back pocket, Todd removes a small golden handle--a switchblade, which he wavves at my face before laughing.

"I'm just fucking with you," Todd says.  Pause.  "But...you do know what you have to do, right?  That is, unless you're going to tell me the punchline."

"Todd, man, I told you, I don't know the punchline.  I don't know the punchline.  I don't know what you're talking about.  I don't know the punchline."

"Well then drop those drawers, lover boy, because daddy's come for what's his--" Todd looks over at my computer screen.  "Is that Macaulay Culkin's asshole?"

something like "Surf" but not "Surf"

Billy:

I don't want to hear about your fucking job, okay? I don't want to hear about where you went on vacation last summer or who your wife's fucking or anything like that. Don't make me sick. Just don't make me sick! That's all I'm asking you.

Tommy:

Yeah she was cute and all but I could never fuck her...like, she smelled bad. She had sores.

Frank:

I think one thing we can all agree on is that this little misadventure--

Jodie:

Cut the bullshit, Frank.

Frank:

What?

Billy:

I fucking swear to god I will destroy you if you talk to me about the Bible or religion or--

Frank:

Ignore him. Please continue.

Jodie:

We're—you're—officially rapists and murders. Doesn't the phase you in the fucking least?

Tommy:

Hey, it's getting dark out here. Don't you think we should maybe, uh, do whatever we're going to do with these girls?

Frank:

Tommy, shut up. Okay, okay, let me just think. Jodie, fuck you.

Jodie:

Yeah, fuck you too.

Jodie steps into the cavity of a female human chest.

Frank:

Fuck you.