Kiwitober 2023

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GenociderSyo

GenociderSyo

Syo
True & Honest Fan
kiwifarms.net
Joined
Feb 24, 2019
Kiwitober 2023

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Prior Threads:
2020 thread: https://kiwifarms.net/threads/kiwitober-2020-beauty-parlor-edition.76656/
2021 thread: https://kiwifarms.net/threads/kiwitober-2021.99507/
2022 thread: https://kiwifarms.net/threads/kiwitober-2022.129774/

Rules:
  1. Use any medium you want! Draw, write, sing to us whatever your heart desires.
  2. Please include the prompt title with your post. You can do as many or as little prompts as you like, but label them so the world knows what they are.
  3. This is for fun! Can't draw who cares make an mspaint just enjoy yourselves!
  • 1. A Horse is Horse Unless you Divorce
    • Ethan Ralph and May's rocky relationship.
  • 2. Candy Juicy Thighs
    • Named for GlitterandLazers, but for all the deathfats who's thighs take up 2 to 3 seats on an airplane.
  • 3. America's Last
    • The entire American first situations from multiple threads.
  • 4. Free Bird Sonichu
    • Chris being out of jail and having his case dismissed.
  • 5. Cyrax Rat Wins Again
    • Cyrax's entire judicial issues.
  • 6. Litigious Pyramid Head Schemes
    • Illuminaughtii and her litigious nature.
  • 7. Fishtanx R Us
    • Anything from fish tank.
  • 8. Bam's Mad Dash
    • Bam's run from police and the entire fiasco it was.
  • 9. X's Dead Name
    • Twitter and Elon Musk.
  • 10. Thwomp
    • Liz Fong Jones in anyway you please.
  • 11. Bud Light's Lady Purse
    • Bud Light being destroyed by featuring Dylan Malvenay.
  • 12. Reiketa Attorney at Perv
    • The new Reikieta stuff coming out including the drunken hot tub director's cut.
  • 13. Water Balloon Baby
    • Robyn and her self made disabled daughter.
  • 14. One Punch Wonder
    • Boogie vs. Wings
  • 15. Tranchless Once Again
    • Tranch being abandoned.
  • 16. Munchies Done and Gone
    • Mainly, Chelsea, but we have lost a few munchies this year.
  • 17. Missing in Tooter
    • Tommy Tooter went MIA and so did him having his own forum.
  • 18. Those Dirty Rats!
    • BossmanJack and all his glory.
  • 19. Where No Logitech Controller Has Gone Before.
    • Titan and its Logitech a tale as old as time.
  • 20. Reddit : The Jannying
    • Reddit had a multi day lockdown due to a policy change which became a shit fest.
  • 21. Jack's Stroke Out
    • Jack Scalfani is on his 4th stroke and 2nd heart attack it seems.
  • 22. Sam Hyde's Punch Out
    • Creator Clash 2
  • 23. She Will Not Serve
    • Melinda Scott being blocked from bringing forth more cases.
  • 24. Transageddon
    • All the trans things happening this year.
  • 25. Fox's Pet Furry
    • Fox News had a Furry on to discuss his people pissing off furries and the world over.
  • 26. SoyJak Raid
    • Soyjak.party being shut down and the invasion of the thread.
  • 27. Whack A Host
    • Kiwifarm's Mesh and the many hosts we have been on.
  • 28. Murder Bunny
    • Hollie Dance's still using her son to make changes including in parlimant. Reference is the excuse the bunny did it.
  • 29. Poast Away
    • Graf and Poast Shill-a-thon
  • 30. Ukraine's American Mutt
    • The Trans American who was given a position of power in Ukraine fired and then rehired.
  • 31. It Lives Again
    • Clearnet rises from the ashes.
 
I think being able to work with an AI art generator to get something you want is a talent unto itself, so these are my submissions, plus for comparison the exact line from the definitions only modified with the art style I chose.

For context, the first image is one where I go through multiple iterations of my own prompt until I get something I like, the second image is just copy pasted the prompt from the Definitions and run it a few times before picking the best one.

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I love the boil on Ralph's face, but what really got me to choose it was the picture of Meigh on the wall in the background.

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Pure prompt control


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It was REALLY hard to get this SFW, as well as it didn't want to make the actual fixture itself broken, but I really wanted a dramatic depiction of GlitterandLazerz breaking her brand new shower.


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Pure Prompt Control
 
A Horse is a Horse Unless You Divorce

The American chancho was fat – like Mexico city fat, ese. Maybe that's why he came here, to be among his own kind. The strangest thing about him though was his ride. He was drivin' a red jeep, but this was no auto chocolate, ese. This was one of those carros everyone drives in Venezuela, where the body panels are made from plywood and you wear it over your shoulders on seatbelt straps. They call them piñata cos they're always splitting open, ese. The deluxe models come with battery-operated speakers that play engine noises, but the American chancho – he was makin' his own noise. Another thing I noticed. His piñata was leaking a brown trail on the street. The stray dogs were comin' over to sniff at it.

I said to him: “It looks like you got an oil leak, ese. You want me to patch it for you?”

The chancho says it's okay. He's a little short of cash at this precise moment. He asks me whether he can check out the hobby horses I have on display.

I say: “Go ahead. Knock yourself out, gringo.”

While he's lookin' , he says his horse slipped out of the casa durin' the night and now he's out searchin' for her.

I tell him: “These stick horses were all stolen from the graves of children. I make the mouth holes deeper, then I attach a fleshlight to the broomstick – sometimes two; maybe even three if I'm feelin' wild, ese. I rent them out for sex, ese. At night, men pull up to the sidewalk in their cars - rich men from Bosque de Lomas. They pay to fuck my stick horses. But, ese, I only steal from dead children. I would never steal another man's horse. It's against the code of practice for Mexican street vendors.”

Then he shows me a photo of his horse and the mane on her pucha is wild and untamed like the hair in my back. He pays me $500 and drives two of my stick horses to an alleyway across the street. I hear him whimpering like a starving dog, ese. When he returns with the stick horses, the broom handles are both filthy and I have to hose them down at the car wash.

After that he drives away, still leaking oil, and I never see him again.
 
I can't draw for shit but I've been messing with the DALL-E 3 AI imaging stuff and this is what I got

A Horse is Horse Unless you Divorce

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Free Bird Sonichu


In prison, some Crips jumped Chris in his cell. Over the course of an afternoon they tattooed his beautiful tan arms a vibrant shade of blue. Before then he had always been locked-down tight with the Bloods. Resplendent in the colours of their arch rivals, he was suddenly a persona non-grata. Office Boy, K-Too, and even Pirate Sauce wanted nothing to do with him.

“Yo nigga, you can't be bringin' yo ass roun' here no more,” said V-Cap.

Dejected, Chris slunk back to Cell Block D, where he was too depressed even to work on his appeal to Judge Judy.

It was worse after he got out. Exposed to the natural light of the great outdoors, his blue arms turned lilac. In the parlance of the streets this made him a ho for the Crips. Any gang member ranked Double OG or higher and could run trains on him anytime they wanted. He thought about contacting the police before noticing that they too wore Crips colours. The Bloods all seemed to work for Pizza Hut.

Still, at least he had a girl waiting for him at home.

As the door creaked open, the familiar bedded-in odour of unaddressed incontinence rose to greet him like a faithful old dog with a leaky bladder. Barb was sitting with her legs apart on the un-scotch-guarded couch. She was not alone. Snuggled up alongside her was a creature that resembled a cross between a fox and a coyote.

Her eyes, clouded with dementia, widened behind her spectacles as she caught sight of her son/boyfriend.

“Oh Chris, I tired to wait but you were away so long,” she pleaded. “They wouldn't say when you were coming out and Crash Bandicoot has been such a comfort to me.”

“Please, call me Neil,” said the man in the fur-suit, scratching his arse as he peeled himself off the couch. “My father's name was Crash Bandicoot.”

Chris could only stare open mouthed in horror at his love rival's blue jeans and red sneakers. As a member of both the Bloods and the Crips, his aspiring stepfather had the wherewithal to shank him and fuck him in the ass, subject to his status in both gangs.

Neil seemed about to speak, but instead issued a loud, prolonged belch.

“Woah, sorry there Champ!” he exclaimed. “Your mom's wumpa fruit always gives me gas.”

“Noooooooo!” cried Chris, in the manner of Darth Vader at the end of Revenge of the Sith (spoilers).

As he charged, Neil drew a lilac yo-yo from his pocket – a ho-yo as the Crips would have it.

“Cylone kick!” yelled Chris raising his right foot a few inches off the floor.

“Triple spin attack!” countered Neil, shuffling around on his gigantic synthetic paws, the ho-yo dangling limply at the end of its crooked string.

“Please boys, don't fight over me,” cried Barbara, licking her dry lips.

Leaving her lovers to their uncoordinated flailing spergery, she wandered away in search of her vibrator. In the few seconds that it took her to reach her bedroom, she completely forgot why she was there.

“Mach speed attack!” yelled Chris, shuffling his feet rapidly back and forth on the spot.

“Bob!” called Barb. “I think the neighbour boy has brought a wild fox into the house.”
 
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This one was really hard, I had a lot of elements I would of liked that I just couldn't get to stick, getting the cat ears to stick and not turn the central figure into a cat or having him lead a pack of cats was really challenging. However I wanted to stick to the style of a Revolutionary War painting, and the more I added the further it'd get away from the style. Also with that style, it was very hard to get Nick to not look like a Chad, but I'm taking it as a semi-ironic view of how he sees himself.

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The unedited prompt control, didn't really give it much to work with I just picked the most grotesque one.

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SDXL seems to have trouble creating two subjects with different characteristics, whenever I tried to describe Chris it'd give those traits to Babs.

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Control
 
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I really wish I could of gotten the underbite or lazy eye to show, but multiple models just refused.

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Control, lmao

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Once I got the style dialed it, it produced a lot of almost winners
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This gets an honorable mention, I love the expression on her face, but the Eye of Providence is depicted in the court and not on her.

Also of note I know nothing of Illuminaughtii and had to look up her OP to get ideas.

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Control made this bitchin' Klan Lawyer.

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This was one of the ones where I had an idea for what I wanted, and I had to fight the AI tooth and nail to get somewhat close to it. My biggest take away from the Fishtank was how incapable a group of Zoomers are and feeding themselves with out a microwave, it took a solid week at least for them to stop trying to put pizza in the oven to reheat still in the card board box.

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The control didn't really give my set up anything to work with other than just fish.

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If there is the right stet of words to make an old polygonal style depiction, I couldn't find it, really wanted that PS1 style, but I worst I could get is decent PS2.

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This time the control gave me a run for my money, as it often times got closer to the graphics style I wanted.
 
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Day 2 - Candy Juicy Thighsexport1696968641311~2.png
Screenshot_20230513-105510.pngback in May I got Insta ad for Anna , I thought it was strange so I screenshot it, also trying to slowly catch up
 
Horse divorce
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Freebird Sonichu
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Water Balloon Baby:
Lama Thupten had dedicated his life - and many before this one - to the pursuit of enlightenment. Hundreds of monks had studied his teaching of "The Matrix 12 Domain Universe UnManifest" over the years. His funeral was a several day long affair, with mourners coming to the temple to pay their respects. Incense sticks, bottles of doTerra essential oils and print-outs of grainy low-resolution JPEGs of diagrams illustrating his revelations were strewn all around the entrance. Thangkas bearing the mantra "Live, Laugh, Love" hung from the pillars, flapping in the wind.
Just as he had foretold, his spirit came untethered from his physical form, and began to ascend through the domains. Past the Astral Playground-Themepark; drifting across the Crystal Sea-Isun; through the Black Hole Portal; until finally, he found himself at the zenith of existence, before the Godhead.
Through the Aethos, Lama Thupten felt the Word of the Godhead:
"My son, you have lived a #blessed life and are one of the wisest of earthly beings. You are one of the most spiritually aware and enlightened souls there is, but you still have more to learn before you achieve Nirvana. But, as you have attained such great wisdom in this life, you may choose your next."
The Lama had been anticipating - hoping - for this moment.
"Well, Your Holiness," he said. "This time around, I have lived a life of ascetism and celibacy and I still haven't reached Nirvana. So I figure, in my next life, I'd like to be drowning in pussy."
"It shall be done," said the Godhead.
 
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Sam Hyde's Punch Out

“Do you know why it is that I stare for hours on end, into the green and weedy depths of my fishtank?” enquired Hyde.

He had wilfully avoided the more spacious chairs in the room, that might have better accommodated his bulk, and had instead crammed himself into the half-shell of the egg chair, where he sat hunched over, obscured by the projection of his own hulking shadow.

“I would not venture to speculate,” answered Cardinal Vaudin.

He moved the lava lamp on the dresser, in the process revealing more of Hyde than he wished.

The creature, who had been placed under his care by no less a figure than the Pope, resembled a man who had drowned and then remained for several days in the water, before being cut into pieces, sewn back together and reanimated by lightning. There was a tale in the Vatican archives that he had been created from the sperm of the 16th century's most prolific bullies, cultured in the preserved womb of a 1980s East German, female, Olympic shot-putter.

“It is because the fish anger me,” said Hyde. “They incite within me such rage, that I might rise beyond this human clay and achieve my unearthly goals.”

“You are aware that the frog you were training to fight Chris Raygun in the forthcoming Creator Clash 2 his been unmasked as your pupil.” said Vaudin. “He has been removed from the contest by its founder, iDubbbz, and released back into the wild.”

Hyde closed his large eyes, as he drew a deep lungful of air from the room.

“Ian was once my brother,” he reminisced. “There was a time when we would spar together in a storm drain, underneath a bridge that smelled of piss. It is in such hardships that eternal friendships are forged. Alas, Ian, through the simple fact of his existence, now rapes himself on a quarter-hourly basis. He has harnessed his physical form to a dessicated succubus whore, who was scammed by Indian frogs into kissing them, on the understanding that they would be transformed into princes. Instead they stole what vestiges of beauty she had left, along with £250,000, the loss of which she aims to conceal in the accounting for the impending boxing charity event.”

“Surely such a great financial loss will be obvious,” said Vaudin.

Hyde slammed his fist into the side of the egg chair, knocking it over. It rolled back and forth on the thin carpet, like a stricken, albino beetle.

“Ian cares not for such trivialities. What do you know of him?”

“He is a demonic entity like yourself. A fallen angel who marched with Lucifer.”

“His fall happened later,” said Hyde. “He was still present in Heaven, when The Ark of the Covenant was fashioned as a vessel for God's penis. Its makers ignored the Lord's instructions and scrimped on materials. When it was finished, the Divine Member was too large to be contained within, even when placed inside diagonally. In the confusion it was stolen by Ian. Now he seeks a champion who is worthy of wielding it in battle. That is the real reason that he holds these gladiatorial games. It is the reason why I cannot allow him to succeed.”

“What do you intend to do, now that your champion has been found out and expelled?”

Hyde pondered the question for a few moments.

“Go to the pond in the garden,” he said. “Get me another frog.”
 
Where No Logitech Controller Has Gone Before

“It's made from solid Lego,” said Stockton, patting an irregular, staircase-shaped crack in the outer hull of the Titan submersible.

“Solid Lego, so a single Lego brick?” enquired Shahzada. He was a wealthy man, who was rumoured to own private shitting streets in cities all over the world.

“It's made from individual Lego bricks that have been pressed together by someone with very strong fingers, to form a larger solid,” confirmed Stockton.

“It is incredible that such a thing can be manufactured from coloured Danish play-bricks, mass produced in Mexico and China,” marvelled Suleman. He was Shahzada's son; independently wealthy and with his own impressive portfolio of private shitting streets for one of such tender years.

“The front dome of the sub is made from Roblox,” continued Stockton.

“Pardon me, but is it not the case that Roblox is both a virtual building material and an unofficial digital currency for paedophiles?” queried Hamish. He was an experienced explorer who had previously taken a submersible 20,000 leagues into Chantal's ass.

“It's a revolutionary build,” admitted Stockton.

“But how are you attaching a physical material like Lego, to a digital material like Roblox?”

“I don't know. Why don't you ask this super-hot girl who dropped out of college during her second week, and who I have appointed as chief engineer,” said Stockton.

Hamish nodded, acknowledging the billionaire's superior debating skills.

“The plan is to take the Titan down to the centre of Boogie's ass,” said Stockton.

Suleman whistled in awe: “That's one big tootsie roll.”

“This will be a journey lasting several weeks,” the billionaire continued. “We will control the movement of the submersible by means of this cordless Logitech controller that DarkSydePhil threw against a wall in a fit of rage, and then sold on Ebay.”

“The anal pressure will be off the chart,” warned Shahzada.

“I have been to the centre of Boogies' ass on a previous submersible expedition,” announced the Frenchman, Paul-Henri. “The sight of the many chairs that were drawn in by his enormous buttocks, and swallowed up in that black void, is something that no man can forget.

“One mistake and we'll all be ass jam,” said Hamish.

“Trust me, nobody is ending this expedition as ass jam,” said Stockton.

~​

Shelton looked up from the instrument panel.

“The crew of the Titan sub confirmed for ass jam,” he announced. “Cancel the search and rescue. Send for a chinook and one of those giant rolls of toilet paper.”
 
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