I was sitting on top of a shack out in my dad's back yard with my stepbrother, Daniel. He's had always been a best friend to me, but we would torture the hell out of each other sometimes. Daniel, being the cruel, twisted, demented child he was, had a BB gun and was shooting birds as they flew by. He was an incredibly good shot. He killed a lot of the birds after he injured them, and then threw them in a pile nearby.
After we marveled at his marksmanship for a short while, I looked at him and said, "I'm gonna go drop the Cosby Kids off at the pool. I'll be right back."
"Take your time," he replied, and looked up, scouting for birds.
I was taking the cautious way down on a makeshift ladder I had made. I hopped the last bar, turned the corner of the shack, and stopped, mortified. Daniel was pulling a joke that turned out to not be even close to funny. I watched as his grinning face disappeared behind a closing door. Then I heard a sound no diarrhea-filled person wants to hear: "Click!"
The door latch. I ran to the door, raising hell, banging on a door I knew wouldn't open. That little bitch was not gonna let me in for any reason.
I had to pinch a loaf. And I had to do it right then. No question about it. It was to be done in the back yard. I waddled my shit-filled ass over behind the shed and dropped trou. It was like ten minutes of bliss, blowing it in every direction. Jenny Craig couldn't have helped anyone lose weight faster than this.
After I blew out the last few Milk Duds, my stomach plummeted. I had to clean the valley too, didn't I? I couldn't walk around with crap caked on my ass. I had to wipe now before it dried.
There were no bushes, no trees, no leaves. I was even willing to use a palm branch at this point. When all seemed lost, I saw it. The pile of birds.
I know it seems really perverted, but what was I to do? I reached down and pulled up the first bird. Quivering, I took the wing and ran it up my crack. It didn't feel half bad. I actually would've liked it had I not known that a bird's appendage was lodged in my backside. I looked and I hadn't taken very much off, but I had roughly fifteen birds so I figured I was OK and thought I could make it.
I think some of the birds had bugs or parasites on them because it tickled my bum sometimes. I threw the last bird down after I finished and pulled up my shorts.
I went and calmly knocked on the door. Daniel opened it and looked at me, probably expecting me to be mad. A gigantic grin spread across his face. " Did you have a little brown baby?" he asked, making a joke about my bad happening.
"Yes," said I, "but it's playing in the mud."
He burst out laughing. "I wanna go see!" he said, before darting off to my mud puddle.
"OH MY GOD!" he screamed when he saw it. Partly because of the shit, and partly because of the birds. He stared, paralyzed in horror at what I had done.
Wrong move. He stood there long enough for me to get behind him. With all of my strength I pushed a 6'4", 180-pound teenager into my feces.
It was like a wave of poo. He asked for every little bit of my crap that was in his mouth. It felt great to know that someone was eating the meal I had eaten hours ago. Of course, he started throwing up and trying to get it on me. Which meant it was his turn to get locked out.
After an hour, I started feeling sorry for him and let his shitty puke ass back in the house. He came in and ran for his other set of clothes. He showered, changed clothes, and came back out. We apologized to each other and went to sleep.
You probably think this is where the story ends, but it gets worse. We woke up and started watching TV. Then my dad told us to let the dogs in.
HOLY SHIT! THE DOGS! We raced outside to my once-happy place. We looked around and saw little bird skeletons littered around the perimeter of the shack. Then we looked at the biggest dog, Betsy. Of course, she had shit, blood, and bird parts dangling from her mouth. We ran back in the house and never told ANYONE about what had happened. I never let that dog touch me again.
-- BKface
