Anonymous4: OI VEY this is not the way to treat a poor Jew :'( Oh wait he has ringlets AND a spack cap... send him to Auschwitz for sum 'social rehabilitation' ;)
Jeb: "Douglas Yancie “Doug” Funnie was never what anyone would consider the archetypal “winner”; he had a habit of projecting the worst case scenarios of any such situation that could pan out undesirably, causing him on multiple occasions to degenerate into a worrisome wretch of a boy. A hapless, obedient, ever-self conscious and meek young man with the saving grace of never saying enough to wrench him out of the shadows and into infamy or glory. “Dear Journal,” Doug wordlessly scribed onto a carefully pressed sheet of loose-leaf line paper, “ever since I came here to this strange town called Bluffington, I’ve learned many things.
I’ve learned that the influence of the mind is like a powerful force of nature; we can try as we might to understand it, and yet all we can essentially do is hunker down and wish upon a star that wherever it takes us, we can come out of it as better people altogether. For better or worse, we rebuild upon our mistakes and become stronger, faster, and smarter in reacting to the next storm.” Doug paused for a moment to peruse his cognitive writing thus far. The journal, over the years, had easily served as one of his most faithful companions (next to Skeeter Valentine and Porkchop, of course). The journal did not question him, or put him into one of his famously neurotic sessions of worrying.
In the journal he could lay out his aspirations to greatness, dream, and chronicle all of the long days and weeks that had cumulatively built him into the young man he was in the present day."
Taking in a hearty breath of air and then quickly expelling it to clear his mind, he returned his focus to the half-used paper in front of him and went on to write, “You have been one of my most loyal friends over the years, journal. Through my ears and eyes, you’ve captured the best of the moments that would otherwise be lost in time…”
He paused yet again, but not to review his writing so far. A moist, stinging heat had welled up in the apex of his right eye and was trailing down his cheek until it rolled over his lips and hit his tongue with a salty tang. For god’s sake, he had never cried over an ordinary journal entry before, but this was no run-of-the-mill entry he was writing tonight.
Doug jerked his head from side to side to erase the hot and wet offender from his face, and moved on to finally write, “I’m going to do it tomorrow, journal. All of this time has been nothing but mental training for me to mature, and man-up.” He was vocalizing his writing now; not too loudly, but just at the tone of a stern mumble. “Patty Mayonnaise is going to hear me out once and for all, and when she does, I don’t even care what happens afterwards. This is the final obstacle, and I’ll make sure to let it stand from this day forth that Douglas Yancie Funnie is not too much of a doofus to tell a girl that he feels for her the way he does…you’ve helped me grow up, and now, it’s time for you to see me off.”
He was sitting upright now, with one hand on his journal’s spine, and the other tensely gripping the pencil as if apprehensive to scribe the next words. With am exasperated sigh, Doug tilted his head up to the ceiling and wrote the concluding words without even facing the page. After only half-heartedly scribbling them down onto the last line of the page, he mouthed the words, “I am a man now. This is goodbye, journal.”
Jeb: With that, Doug closed his trusted journal and was faced with its back for the first time; after years of on and off writing, he had finished every page of his journal. Sliding the journal into his desk’s drawer seemed as conclusive as shutting the coffin on a loved one, but he knew that it had to be done.
Doug nodded firmly, gazed across from his chair and into the twilight sky that shone a silver-spotted tone of midnight blue and felt as if he was looking into his own uncertain future. “Patty…tomorrow, I will tell you I love you.”
As soon as those words escaped his mind and were clearly vocalized, he knew something was wrong. The seconds seemed to freeze in mid-procession and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end, as if warning him that hell was one bent cell-bar away from breaking loose.
Suddenly, a weight pressed against the brawn of his back and his senses were set ablaze by an all too familiar scent; that of pressed leather and cheap musky cologne. Why then, and why there was something that he would be incapable of fathoming for years to come, but somehow out of nowhere he had appeared to sully the day, just as usual.
Leaning on his back and supported by one arm was his eternal antagonist, Roger Klotz. “So THIS is what ya do every night after school, eh?” Roger quietly half-inquired and half-accused into the back of his head. Doug was too petrified and stupefied at that moment to inch a muscle in protest as Roger positioned his elbow on the collarbone of his vest to rub his pale chin pensively, as if in deep thought. After what seemed to be an damned eternity, Doug could almost feel Roger’s devilish, toothy grin branding itself into the back of his head as his eyes followed a bright green hand to gesture at the closed drawer wherein lye his precious journal. “You sure write some faggy shit in there.”
Jeb: “H-how did you get in here, Roger…” Doug inquired barely over a whisper, his throat too choked by a wicked serpent of anxiety to let any more words escape. Roger merely cackled to himself in response and replied, “You always have left your doors unlocked, doofus. I did come by to ask you to do my algebra homework, but looks like I stumbled upon something much more tasty than that!” The way “tasty” rolled off of Roger’s forked tongue made Doug feel nauseous enough to gag…and then infuriated.
“G-get out...” Doug meekly growled in a barely audible tone. Roger, still leaning on Doug’s back, pressed even more weight upon the shorter boy and impulsively shouted straight into his ear, “WHAT WAS THAT FUNNIE? YOU WANNA ‘GET OFF’?” Doug flashed maroon, crimson, and all imaginable shades of red at that audacious statement that only Roger would make so casually. He was always doing this in public. Humiliating him effortlessly with a mere utterance. This, however, was a step too far. This was his home, his haven, and Roger had violated that. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
If what he told his journal was true, then it was his time to be a real man, and real men didn’t get made fun of in their own houses and just let it slide.
“I said… GET OUT you goddamn CREEP!” Standing up swiftly was enough to throw Roger off-balance and wipe the smug, chesire cat grin off of his face…if only for a second. “Whoa whoa whoa, Funnie! Kicking your guest out so you can jack off to your little sweetheart is a little creepy itself, isn’t it?” Once again, Doug was frozen in place and speechless. The bastard had done it again. “Well, isn’t it, Funnie?” Say something, anything! Dammit, you’re letting him do this to you again, day in and day out! Thoughts crashed about like a maelstrom within Doug’s mind. “You were gonna try and fuck her, weren’tcha Funnie…?”
Jeb: “Oh. my. God. Heh heh heh…” Doug couldn’t tell if Roger was acting or really attempting to stifle his laughter with the palm over his mouth which expanded for every haughty chuckle, until he gave up and let it explode into full-blown, booming laughter. “AHAHAHA! Dougy here wanted some PATTY PUSSY! AHAHA!” Doug’s fists were trembling now, and the warmth that had welled in his eye while pouring his heart out into his journal now consumed his entire face in a medley of rage, humiliation, and sorrow.
“Oh. my. God. Heh heh heh…” Doug couldn’t tell if Roger was acting or really attempting to stifle his laughter with the palm over his mouth which expanded for every haughty chuckle, until he gave up and let it explode into full-blown, booming laughter. “AHAHAHA! Dougy here wanted some PATTY PUSSY! AHAHA!” Doug’s fists were trembling now, and the warmth that had welled in his eye while pouring his heart out into his journal now consumed his entire face in a medley of rage, humiliation, and sorrow.
“AHAHAHA! I’ve-haha-I’ve seen you in the locker room after gym, Funnie. Heh. You really think you can fuck her with that…that limp NEMATODE worm dick of yours, loser? Ahaha..AHAHA!” Something had to give at some point. Doug couldn’t take much more of this verbal abuse. It wasn’t just this instance that was irking him, but every memory of Roger embarrassing him, putting him down, or just being a dick in general was flooding into his mind in a torrent of furious woe.
He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice Roger slink by him to poke his head out of an ajar window to yell, “HEY EVERYBODY! DOUG HERE WANTED TO GET “FUNNY” WITH PATTY! AHAHAHA-ack!” That was where the cookie crumbled. Roger’s boisterous shouting had been caught short before it could even escape his mouth, and ten iron fingers had somehow found themselves laced over his esophagus and were now constricting his neck with hellish force.
“AaaAck-wh-what the hell’re you do-DOING Funnie? S-save your-ack-strength for when ya rape PATT-UGH!” No more words would find would their way out of the green boy’s throat, much less be heard by anyone.
Doug had raced up behind him disturbingly quietly and with a surprising speed and had locked death grip upon his neck. “This is where your shit ends, Roger…” Doug muttered with a tone that told a thousand tales of suppressed heat that was waiting to be unleashed, like a dormant volcano being awakened for the first time. Leaning closer until his lips were nearly kissing the back of Roger’s left ear, he conclusively said, “Bend over.”
Anonymous15: Well now Anonymous 13... Cancer is right but in a very, very, very, very, VERY, very long way. (I'll put it in laments terms.) For you see during the SA period (otherwise known as the "brownshirts") there WERE Jews among them and then when Hitler claimed power from them and formed the now infamous SS (Nazi Party) there were still Jews involved and working with Hitler and his Nazi Party. BUT! There were only a basic handfull and let's not forget to mention that these Jews in the Nazi Party were plotting to try and stop and kill Hitler in the first place. So that's in laments terms if you want proof go read a book at your local libary. Don't look it up on the internet. For two reasons. 1) the dirty filthy Jews would deny it and 2) the dirty filthy Jews will lie and say that no Jews were ever involved in the SS at all when they were... And NOW! Back to fapping...
Anonymous17(16): "So that's in laments terms if you want proof go read a book at your local libary"
From the way you write, I would swear you've never read a book in your life lol.
"Don't look it up on the internet. For two reasons. 1) the dirty filthy Jews would deny it and 2) the dirty filthy Jews will lie and say that no Jews were ever involved in the SS at all when they were... And NOW! Back to fapping..."
^ LMAO! All credibility you might have had just went out the door right then. And wouldn't "the dirty filthy Jews" have more control over books than they would over the Internet, assuming they actually pay attention, and have complete omnipotent control over everything published???
Anonymous19(15): Oh and another Anonymous 16... Cut and paste? Jesus! By the looks of things you can't put sentences into your own words! What a dick! And by the way you write I wonder did your Mummy type it out for you? Asshole!!! Go fuck yourself!!!
- Reply
I’ve learned that the influence of the mind is like a powerful force of nature; we can try as we might to understand it, and yet all we can essentially do is hunker down and wish upon a star that wherever it takes us, we can come out of it as better people altogether. For better or worse, we rebuild upon our mistakes and become stronger, faster, and smarter in reacting to the next storm.” Doug paused for a moment to peruse his cognitive writing thus far. The journal, over the years, had easily served as one of his most faithful companions (next to Skeeter Valentine and Porkchop, of course). The journal did not question him, or put him into one of his famously neurotic sessions of worrying.
In the journal he could lay out his aspirations to greatness, dream, and chronicle all of the long days and weeks that had cumulatively built him into the young man he was in the present day."
Taking in a hearty breath of air and then quickly expelling it to clear his mind, he returned his focus to the half-used paper in front of him and went on to write, “You have been one of my most loyal friends over the years, journal. Through my ears and eyes, you’ve captured the best of the moments that would otherwise be lost in time…”
He paused yet again, but not to review his writing so far. A moist, stinging heat had welled up in the apex of his right eye and was trailing down his cheek until it rolled over his lips and hit his tongue with a salty tang. For god’s sake, he had never cried over an ordinary journal entry before, but this was no run-of-the-mill entry he was writing tonight.
Doug jerked his head from side to side to erase the hot and wet offender from his face, and moved on to finally write, “I’m going to do it tomorrow, journal. All of this time has been nothing but mental training for me to mature, and man-up.” He was vocalizing his writing now; not too loudly, but just at the tone of a stern mumble. “Patty Mayonnaise is going to hear me out once and for all, and when she does, I don’t even care what happens afterwards. This is the final obstacle, and I’ll make sure to let it stand from this day forth that Douglas Yancie Funnie is not too much of a doofus to tell a girl that he feels for her the way he does…you’ve helped me grow up, and now, it’s time for you to see me off.”
He was sitting upright now, with one hand on his journal’s spine, and the other tensely gripping the pencil as if apprehensive to scribe the next words. With am exasperated sigh, Doug tilted his head up to the ceiling and wrote the concluding words without even facing the page. After only half-heartedly scribbling them down onto the last line of the page, he mouthed the words, “I am a man now. This is goodbye, journal.”
Doug nodded firmly, gazed across from his chair and into the twilight sky that shone a silver-spotted tone of midnight blue and felt as if he was looking into his own uncertain future. “Patty…tomorrow, I will tell you I love you.”
As soon as those words escaped his mind and were clearly vocalized, he knew something was wrong. The seconds seemed to freeze in mid-procession and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end, as if warning him that hell was one bent cell-bar away from breaking loose.
Suddenly, a weight pressed against the brawn of his back and his senses were set ablaze by an all too familiar scent; that of pressed leather and cheap musky cologne. Why then, and why there was something that he would be incapable of fathoming for years to come, but somehow out of nowhere he had appeared to sully the day, just as usual.
Leaning on his back and supported by one arm was his eternal antagonist, Roger Klotz. “So THIS is what ya do every night after school, eh?” Roger quietly half-inquired and half-accused into the back of his head. Doug was too petrified and stupefied at that moment to inch a muscle in protest as Roger positioned his elbow on the collarbone of his vest to rub his pale chin pensively, as if in deep thought. After what seemed to be an damned eternity, Doug could almost feel Roger’s devilish, toothy grin branding itself into the back of his head as his eyes followed a bright green hand to gesture at the closed drawer wherein lye his precious journal. “You sure write some faggy shit in there.”
“G-get out...” Doug meekly growled in a barely audible tone. Roger, still leaning on Doug’s back, pressed even more weight upon the shorter boy and impulsively shouted straight into his ear, “WHAT WAS THAT FUNNIE? YOU WANNA ‘GET OFF’?” Doug flashed maroon, crimson, and all imaginable shades of red at that audacious statement that only Roger would make so casually. He was always doing this in public. Humiliating him effortlessly with a mere utterance. This, however, was a step too far. This was his home, his haven, and Roger had violated that. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back.
If what he told his journal was true, then it was his time to be a real man, and real men didn’t get made fun of in their own houses and just let it slide.
“I said… GET OUT you goddamn CREEP!” Standing up swiftly was enough to throw Roger off-balance and wipe the smug, chesire cat grin off of his face…if only for a second. “Whoa whoa whoa, Funnie! Kicking your guest out so you can jack off to your little sweetheart is a little creepy itself, isn’t it?” Once again, Doug was frozen in place and speechless. The bastard had done it again. “Well, isn’t it, Funnie?” Say something, anything! Dammit, you’re letting him do this to you again, day in and day out! Thoughts crashed about like a maelstrom within Doug’s mind. “You were gonna try and fuck her, weren’tcha Funnie…?”
…
…..Had he really just said that?
“Oh. my. God. Heh heh heh…” Doug couldn’t tell if Roger was acting or really attempting to stifle his laughter with the palm over his mouth which expanded for every haughty chuckle, until he gave up and let it explode into full-blown, booming laughter. “AHAHAHA! Dougy here wanted some PATTY PUSSY! AHAHA!” Doug’s fists were trembling now, and the warmth that had welled in his eye while pouring his heart out into his journal now consumed his entire face in a medley of rage, humiliation, and sorrow.
“AHAHAHA! I’ve-haha-I’ve seen you in the locker room after gym, Funnie. Heh. You really think you can fuck her with that…that limp NEMATODE worm dick of yours, loser? Ahaha..AHAHA!” Something had to give at some point. Doug couldn’t take much more of this verbal abuse. It wasn’t just this instance that was irking him, but every memory of Roger embarrassing him, putting him down, or just being a dick in general was flooding into his mind in a torrent of furious woe.
He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn’t even notice Roger slink by him to poke his head out of an ajar window to yell, “HEY EVERYBODY! DOUG HERE WANTED TO GET “FUNNY” WITH PATTY! AHAHAHA-ack!” That was where the cookie crumbled. Roger’s boisterous shouting had been caught short before it could even escape his mouth, and ten iron fingers had somehow found themselves laced over his esophagus and were now constricting his neck with hellish force.
“AaaAck-wh-what the hell’re you do-DOING Funnie? S-save your-ack-strength for when ya rape PATT-UGH!” No more words would find would their way out of the green boy’s throat, much less be heard by anyone.
Doug had raced up behind him disturbingly quietly and with a surprising speed and had locked death grip upon his neck. “This is where your shit ends, Roger…” Doug muttered with a tone that told a thousand tales of suppressed heat that was waiting to be unleashed, like a dormant volcano being awakened for the first time. Leaning closer until his lips were nearly kissing the back of Roger’s left ear, he conclusively said, “Bend over.”
</textwall>
Best Doug fanfiction EVER.
roger's surname klotz is in several countries - europe, south america or eastern europe
so theres a chance hes part jewish, native south american or slav, any way would explain big nose
but if yancy's a jewish name, this COULD be jew on jew rape!
- Reply
^
From the way you write, I would swear you've never read a book in your life lol.
"Don't look it up on the internet. For two reasons. 1) the dirty filthy Jews would deny it and 2) the dirty filthy Jews will lie and say that no Jews were ever involved in the SS at all when they were... And NOW! Back to fapping..."
^ LMAO! All credibility you might have had just went out the door right then. And wouldn't "the dirty filthy Jews" have more control over books than they would over the Internet, assuming they actually pay attention, and have complete omnipotent control over everything published???
- Reply
- Reply
It's not just this one, MOST of the Doug stuff on this site is beyond fucked up.
THIS IS NOT ART, THIS IS AN ABOMINATION!!
THIS IS ART!