Franco And Jesus Team Up To Exterminate Marxicrat Scum

"I will wash my feet in the blood of my enemies" Franco Aragosta screamed as he pressed the trigger of his machine gun, spraying bullets into the crowd. "Die, Marxicrat scum" Franco cried as the bodies fell. Screams of terror erupted from the crowd and soon people were stampeding for the exits.

Franco continued pumping bullets into the enemy as his unfortunate prey found the doors locked. Franco laughed maniacally as bullets impacted flesh and blood spurted from wounds. "Head shot" Franco remarked, smiling as the cranium of one of his fleeing pussy-hat-wearing targets exploded.

"Nice shot, my son" a caucasian man in flowing white robes standing next to Franco while firing his own machine gun remarked. "Thank you, Jesus" Franco replied. Soon it appeared that everyone in the auditorium was dead. Mangled and bloody corpses were strewn everywhere.

"Now we must flee before the authorities arrive" the son of God declared. "Not yet" Franco exclaimed. Jesus knew the reason they had chosen this theatre, so Franco was perplexed that his savior would suggest leaving before their main target was not known to have perished.

Suddenly two men wearing black suits and sunglasses opened fire. "Secret Service agents" Jesus warned, turning to face the adversary. Bullets hit the body of Christ but ricocheted away doing no harm. Jesus smiled as he returned fire, filling one of the Secret Service agents with lead.

"I will protect you, my child" Jesus remarked calmly, throwing up a forcefield to protect Franco. Just in time. A hail of bullets that surely would have ended Franco's life hit the holy shield and were deflected. Jesus dropped the shield and Franco returned fire, cutting down the second Secret Service agent.

Franco and Jesus approached the stage, victorious. "Don't harm me" a frightened voice pleaded from behind the podium. "I know you are there, Hillary Clinton; come out" the son of God commanded sternly. Hillary Clinton emerged from behind the podium. Her pantsuit was soiled and she was quivering in terror. Her mascara ran as she began to cry.

"Please don't kill me" Hillary Clinton pleaded. "Judgement is upon you, oh evil one" the Messiah intoned. "You may do the honors, Franco" Jesus said and Franco began pumping bullets into IT. His ammunition ripped through the former First Lady's body like a blowtorch through warm butter. She dropped to the floor and expired. But Franco did not stop. For several minutes he held down the trigger of his fully automatic firearm. Hundreds of shell casings clattered to the floor.

Soon the body of the former First Lady was reduced to naught but red jelly. "You got what's coming to you, bitch" Franco screamed, spittle flying from his open maw, his face red with rage. Franco removed his red MAGA baseball cap and wiped the blood from his brow, then hawked a loogie into the puddle of goo that was once Hillary Clinton (president of the United States, as per the popular vote).

"That was extremely satisfying" Franco remarked, pointing at his crotch. Looking where his companion indicated, Jesus noted that Franco was sporting a rock hard erection. Jesus gave Franco a thumbs up. Then the son of God spoke, "you have defeated the Hildabeast. Your nation owes you a debt of gratitude, although the law will not see it that way. The building is currently surrounded by the police and Secret Service. They will be coming for you soon, my son. Intent on taking your life".

Franco was alarmed, then he remembered that he was standing beside Jesus Christ. Surely Jesus had a plan that would get them out of this jam unharmed. "What shall we do, Jesus?" Franco implored. "If we had left when I said we should, we could have gotten away before the authorities arrived" Jesus replied. "Now there is no escape".

"Except for an all powerful being such as myself" Jesus added. "You, however, are doomed". Franco was about to object, but Jesus raised his hand. "Silence" Jesus commanded. Jesus furrowed his brow and thought. "I shall perform a miracle and teleport you to safety". "Great, let's do that" Franco agreed, looking worried.

Jesus waived his arms about while speaking in tongues. To Franco's amazement a swirling portal materialized. Just then there was a pounding at the auditorium doors, which burst open. Officers in body armor rushed into the room. "Throw down your weapons. NOW!" one of the men commanded.

"Quickly my child, you must depart immediately" Jesus told Franco, pushing him toward the portal. Franco entered the swirling gateway and found himself instantly transported back to his room at the old folk's home.

Except he had not been transported at all. Instead he found he was waking from a dream. One he had many times before. Only a dream, although an extremely vivid one. Franco began to weep. Hillary Clinton - The Beast, the Servant, the Handmaiden, the Henchman, the Toady, the Slave and Asskisser to everything vile - he realized, was not dead, but very much alive.

At least a Godly man like Donald Trump held the presidency. Praise Jesus for that! Franco rose from his bed, slipped on his robe and shuffled over to his computer. Turning it on, Franco waited while Windows booted up. Then, as soon as he was able to connect to the internet, Franco navigated to the blog Who's Your Daddy.

"I will fight evil the only way I am able", Franco muttered. "Not with a machine gun, but with my keyboard". Franco took pleasure in knowing that, as he typed his words of hate and submitted them (thereby smiting his enemies), the Lord smiled upon him. For he was certain that those he hated were hated by the Lord as well. Of that Franco had no doubt whatsoever.

However, unbeknownst to him, Franco was being manipulated by Satan. "This fool is my pawn" The Prince of Darkness chortled. "I am able to easily puppeteer him via my stooge Donald Trump. Soon his soul will be mine". Satan licked his lips in delight. These trumpers, many of which considered themselves pious Christian followers of God, were walking right into his trap. Thinking about the souls this would net him caused Satan to laugh heartily.

Post authored by the anti-Trump Leftist Bastard Dervish Sanders. WYM-69. TF-5.

Fartbreathed Fool FreeThinke Terrorizes Old Folks Home

"Online, the cantankerous old coot calls himself FreeThinke, but in reality he is a racist, bigoted misogynist fool. Hardly a free thinker" Alvin, the middle-aged manager of the Sunnyview Retirement Community told recent hire, Jenny.

"Anyway, the reason I asked to speak with you, Jenny, is to warn you. Everyone has to take their turn with this Thinke asshole, and today it's you". Jenny, a petite young blond woman who was attending nursing school and who had only recently come to work at the old folks home, looked unfazed. "I'm really good with the elderly" Jenny declared confidently.

"That may be so, but you've never encountered anyone as awful as Thinke". Jenny was about to interject again and assure her boss that she could handle the situation, but Alvin raised his hand, indicating that the young nurse-to-be should hear him out. "You may have heard the other employees talk of someone they refer to as Old Mister Fartbreath. Thinke is who they are talking about. That is why I'm warning you. This old codger's breath smells like death itself".

Jenny looked incredulous. "I kid you not" her boss assured her, pushing up his horn-rimmed glasses. "Thinke's breath smells like a rotting corpse that has been sprayed by a potent skunk, only a hundred times worse. Anyway, all you need to do today is to make sure he takes his meds and uses the toilet. Thinke is notorious for, in addition to his fartbreath, shitting himself. Even though he is able to use the toilet. Apparently he gets off subjecting others to his foul stench".

"We've tried to kick him out, but his family is good friends with the owner of this facility. Apparently the owner assured the family that they would not have to take Thinke back. They begged him not to send Thinke back is what I've heard. So we're stuck with him. Even though his presence has caused several employees to quit. But let me say this - if you are able to stomach working with Thinke, there is a bonus in it for you, Jenny. Time and a half for all the hours you spend assisting the old fart".

"That's generous and I could really use the money" Jenny remarked. "That's starting after today. Should you decide you can work with Thinke you'll get time and a half for every shift you volunteer to work with him. Consider today a trial". They spoke for a few additional minutes, then Jenny, the orderly-in-training departed Alvin's office. In her hand was Old Mister Fartbreath's chart. "Here is OMF's chart" Alvin told her as he handed her a clipboard. "OMF"? Jenny inquired. "OMF stands for Old Mister Fartbreath" Alvin explained.

Jenny, after stopping by the employee lounge to change into her white orderly uniform, proceeded to the nurse's office to pick up OMF's meds. An older brunette woman dispensing the meds accepted the chart. Her eyebrows raised. "So, you're the fresh meat assigned to deal with OMF" she remarked. "I'm Elise, btw" the woman said, introducing herself. She proceeded to dispense OMF's meds into tiny white paper cups. "Here you go" Elise said, handing a tray with the medications on it to Jenny. "Good luck".

Jenny accepted the medications and turned to leave, her ponytail swishing. "Wait, you might want to use this" Elise remarked, pulling a jar of Vicks VapoRub from under the counter. "Dab some of this under your nose before entering OMF's room. It will help with the smell" Elise said, proffering the container to Jenny. "No thanks" Jenny said, turning to leave. "Beware the fartbreath!" Elise warned. Jenny couldn't believe it. This poor old man being ridiculed for his breath was unacceptable to her. I'll turn on the charm and soon Mr. Thinke and I will be the best of friends, Jenny decided.

Finding Thinke's room Jenny knocked. No response, so she knocked again. "Come in" a gruff voice said angrily. Entering the room Jenny saw an old man in a bathrobe in front of a computer. His neatly combed hair was dyed brown as was his shortly trimmed beard. Looks pleasant enough, Jenny decided. Thinke was squinting at a computer screen while banging away on a keyboard. "Ha ha ha" Thinke laughed. "Just told a Liberal slime to go fuck himself" Thinke chuckled, explaining his laughter.

Then Thinke turned and Jenny was hit in the face with a blast of his horrendous foul smelling breath. Tears started streaming from her eyes as Jenny stumbled and almost tripped. The stench was overwhelming and Jenny suddenly felt light-headed. Taking a few seconds to collect herself, Jenny approached OMF. "Hi, I'm Jenny, your nurse for today".

"Wow, you are a hot piece of ass" OMF exclaimed. Removing a hand from his keyboard, OMF quickly reached over and pinched Jenny's shapely posterior. "Nice and tight. You must work out" OMF said, smiling. "Obviously you must wear a sports bra when you do, or you'd be in danger of getting knocked out by those large jugs. Are you D or Double-D?". Jenny felt her knees buckle as another blast of sulfurous fartbreath assaulted her nostrils. How could it be possible that a living person's breath was so horrific, she wondered.

"I accidentally shit myself, so you're going to have to change my Depends" OMF informed Jenny, smiling again. Jenny blanched. "You sure you can't do that yourself, Mr. Thinke?". OMF frowned. "No, dear. That's why you're here" OMF insisted. "OK" Jenny acquiesced. "But you're going to take your medications when I'm finished". OMF agreed. "It's a deal".

Wiping OMF's soiled rear with a baby wipe, Jenny sprinkled on some talcum powder. The stench, with OMF rolled onto his stomach, was far less than when he was facing her. Jenny went to the bathroom to flush the shit-filled baby wipes she had used cleaning OMF. "Time to put on a fresh pair of Depends" Jenny said, returning from the bathroom with a clean pair of the disposable undergarments.

OMF was lying on the bed, having rolled onto his back. Jenny glanced down and noticed that, even though his member was old and shriveled, OMF was sporting a mini-chub. "How about a handjob first?" OMF inquired. "Masturbation is good for your health, but I've got a problem with arthritis in my wrists".

Noting the revulsion on Jenny's face, OMF added "there is a $100 tip in it for you if you can help an old man out. There, under my MAGA hat". OMF pointed to a red Make America Great Again baseball cap sitting on a shelf nearby. "I'm sorry, I can't accept tips. It's against Sunnyview rules" Jenny protested. She placed OMF's feet in the foot holes of the Depends and pulled them up. "That's OK" OMF said, raising his rear end so Jenny could finish pulling up the Depends. "Maybe next time".

"Get me back to my computer" OMF said after Jenny helped him into his robe. "I can't stand easily because of my arthritic knees" OMF explained. Jenny extend a hand and pulled OMF to his feet. Placing his arm around her waist, OMF slipped his hand underneath her shirt, forced his hand inside her bra, and copped a feel. Squeezing her breast, OMF felt about before finding a nipple, which he tweaked. Jenny roughly pushed OMF back onto the bed, crying out "No!".

"I'm not going to tuck my dick into my butthole, G*ddamm it" OMF cursed, taking the Lord's name in vain. "I'm a man and I have needs". "That's sexual assault, Mr. Thinke" Jenny exclaimed. "Bullshit!" OMF grumbled. "What are you, an overly ambitious power whore?". Jenny was angry, but remembering what her superior told her about OMF and his relationship with the owner of Sunnyview, she decided to let it go. She might lose her job if she complained. She surely wouldn't be getting time and a half if she made a stink.

She simply needed to take control of the situation and be stern with the horny old fart, Jenny decided. "Time for your meds" Jenny said, pouring water from a pitcher into a glass. OMF accepted his meds and washed them down with a swig from the glass. "That's a really nice pair of tatas you've got" OMF cracked, smirking. "You will NOT touch me like that again!" Jenny declared sternly.

"Yes, mam" OMF said, perhaps mocking Jenny. She couldn't be sure. Looking around Jenny saw a walker in a corner of the room. She retrieved it and placed it in front of OMF. "You get to your feet yourself" she said. OMF grabbed the walker and pulled himself up. "Ow, my knees!" OMF complained as he rose. Then, using the walker, OMF shuffled back to his computer.

Then he paused. "Get me my wheelchair. I need to get out of this room and breathe some fresh air. It stinks in here for some reason". Jenny pushed OMF's wheelchair up behind him and he lowered his body into it. "I've earned a break from fighting evil online" OMF declared. "I'd like to go for a spin in the courtyard". You can deal with this, Jenny told herself. He's a difficult old coot, but I'll let him know who's boss.

Post authored by the anti-Trump Leftist Bastard Dervish Sanders. wym33. TF-4.