Robbie Rotten gave a heartfilled nod to his partner Steve Blum, “Ready--partner?”
Steve Blum raised his gun, “Ready partner.”
With their guns up the two kicked down the door leading to Izummi’s dorm room. In a flash Izummi, waiting on the other side, fired his own gun at Steve Blum while Robbie accidentally fired his own gun off also at Steve Blum, “D’oh shit!” Robbie cried as Steve hit the ground, taking two bullets to the head.
“Robbie! I figured you’d come around by now,” Izummi kept his gun focused on Robbie.
“I didn’t want it to come to this,” Robbie yelled back. He dropped his gun, “Fuck, hang on.” Izummi politely let Robbie pick his gun back up and aim it again.
“It was a setup, Robbie!” Izummi yelled, “Jackson Stewart, Robbie! He’s terrible at Mob Tycoon and has to kill off top soldiers to balance his budget. He wants us to kill each other. I didn’t tip off the girl scouts! Jackson did!”
“Gyagh,” Robbie kicked Steve Blum, “damn I hate being easily slayed,” Robbie pulled out a box of girl scout cookies and began to eat some chocolatey goodness, “I knew Jackson was a grade A bitch. But what do we do now if we’re really on our own here?”
“Heh,” Izummi patted Robbie on the shoulder, “are you forgetting who we are? We go in--”
“Locked and loaded,” Robbie raised his gun smuggily.
The Theme began to Theme
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_PZhz5…
A Sporty convertible drove down the highway while Robbie Rotten and Izummi drove down it.The wind blew in their faces and their sunglasses made them look really cool.
Robbie lit a cigarette.
Robbie Rotten’s car broke down. Thankfully, they had insurance.
“Like a good neighbor, Flo The Progressive Girl will help me! NOW!” Demanded Mr. Rotten.
With a puff of smoke, Actual Insurance Agent Steve Buscemi appeared “How do you do fellow drivers!”
Robbie Rotten scratched his head and looked at Izumii. “Uh, where is the hot girl I see on T.V all the time?”
“Well uh, you see I um… “ Actual Insurance Agent Steve Buscemi began to chuckled. “I’m from the future. I am Flo’s son. Actual Son, Steve Bu-” A bullet went into Steve Buscemi’s ground underneath him. It gave him a spook and he dove into the arms of Izumii.
“Fuck I missed!” Said Robbie Rotten.
“Ah ha! You can’t kill Actual Insurance Agent Steve Buscemi that easily!” Said Actual Insurance Agent Steve Buscemi right before a truck going 70 miles per hour ran him down.
“I spent like the whole day yesterday trying to save him too,” Robbie spit on the ground. “Alright, let’s go shoot up the Arby’s.”
AT THE ARBY’S NIGHTCLUB
Robbie and Izzumi didn’t show up yet.
40 MINUTES LATER
Forgot they were walking.
20 minutes later…
They arrived five minutes ago and had a really cool shoot out scene against Jackson Stewart’s ninjas. Robbie and Izummi ran up the stairs and made their way into the private brothel of the nightclub. There they saw Weirdo Animated James.
“HALT!” James yelled at the two.
“What is that fuckin’ smell?” Said Izumii, inappropriately loud.
James pulled out a jar with the label “farts” on it and opened it. He stuck a rolled up piece of paper in it. He closed the jar tightly and lit a fart. He sniffed the air while he let out a puff of fart. He slowly walked towards the two, holding a two handed long sword.
“So, you two think you can-” James gasped. He quickly put his fart blunt back in and inhaled some. “Come back here? Jackson ain’t fucking stupid!”
Izumii pulled out his hammer from his show he is in. “I’ll show you fuckin’ stupid shitlips!”
The two clashed at one another. Hammer and Sword met. They clashed so hard, it made the CLANK sound you hear in animes with swords in it. Eventually, the two jumped back to talk.
“IiiiiizuuuuMIII! You can back down now, Jackson won’t kill you as hard as ME!” Said James charging at Izumii. James slipped and fell to the ground. “Sh-shit.. That Fart… what the fuck?”
Robbie Rotten’s eyes widened. “Oooh! Uh I just remembered. I farted into your Jar a while back.”
James eyes began to turn bright red. His skin broke out into Hives. “YOU FUCKER! I’M ONLY PRESCRIBED TO ROBERTA TUBBS FARTS, NOT FUCKING ROBERT ROTTEN FARTS!”
“Well technically sharts,” said Robbie, butt fudging three women at once because they were in a brothel.
James began to foam at the mouth and shook violently on the ground. He let out a very loud fart before letting out several other farts. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and his skin slowly turned pale. His farts filled the room.
“OH FARTS! IT’S POISONOUS GAS!” Said Robbie Rotten grabbing Izumii. They quickly headed to the next room.
“There’s Jackson’s office! SHIT! We forgot the boss key,” Robbie shot a crying terrified whore so he could kick her body on the ground in frustration.
“Fear not my chin challenged friend,” Izumi bent down and shrieked as the boss key fell from his anus.
“Okay,” Robbie stood quiet for a moment, “like, dude, what the fuck.”
“It’s good to keep han--” Izumiiii was kicked into the wall and blacked out instantly.
“D’OH SHIT!” Robbie turned his head to face the attacker while the camera blasted way to close into his face. “ROBBIE ROTTEN!?” It took Robbie a moment to realize he was looking at a mirror, “Oh wait. JIMMY BRANDO!?”
There he stood with a red rag wrapped around his eyes, “Hello, Robbie. Been a long time.”
“Yeah, yesterday, right?” Robbie asked.
“YOU SHOT ME!” Jimmy unsheathed his katana, “the brain damage was intense. I can no longer tell the difference between red and green. Also it made me blind.”
“Ugh, I’m sorry for giving you brain damage--OKAY!?” Robbie crossed his arms.
“No, I think somehow we both knew this moment would be realized,” Jimmy, with his head bent down, aimed his sword at Robbie, “we’ve always been destined to destroy one another.”
“It is a--rotten realization, I must admit,” Robbie said.
“At least I have an excuse to cosplay as Uzu Sanageyama from Kill La Kill forever.” Jimmy leapt at Robbie, “for that I’ll make your death quick!”
Robbie bent his knees down to reenforce his counterattack, “Jimmy--I always knew you were evil.”
Jimmy smashed into the mirror behind Robbie because he was blind and therefore was not able to see himself flying into a mirror. There were a lot of tiny cuts too! Robbie then took advantage of this moment and shoved his swiss army knife into Jimmy’s neck. Several times. Jimmy screamed in pain.
Jimmy stood up gargling blood. “That all you got!?” Jimmy fell to his knees. Robbie Rotten grabbed Jimmy Brando by the hair and smashed his face into the wall multiple times. Jimmy’s body still twitched. Robbie had no choice but to grab Izumii’s hammer and break Jimmy’s ankles, knees and hands so he couldn’t get away. Robbie Rotten took one final swing at Jimmy’s skull, causing his cranium to cave in. His brains and skull fractures were all over the walls and floor.
Robbie got up panting from exhaustion “I think… I went… a… Little TOO far.”
Izumii got up and approached Jimmy’s body, “Eh, he prefered dubs over subs.” Izumi kicked Jimmy’s body.
Robbie and Izummi moved to the boss door, “Ready--partner?” Robbie asked.
“Ready partner,” Izumi replied before the two kicked down the doors.
Machine gun fire opened on the two rapidly, “D’OHHHH SHEEIIIII--” Robbie cried, using Izumi as a human shield to advance his way in.
“YOU FUCKING CUCKSTERS!” Jackson Stewart screamed as he cranked his gatling gun.
“BLAEEAAHHH,” Izumi yelped as he was blasted into bits and pieces of mushy, steaming flesh.
Robbie ditched Izumi at the foot of Jackson’s desk and tackled him to the ground, “JACKSON! You tried to cuck me with that sewer shit!” Robbie quickly put on his brass knuckles--one read ‘LAZY’ the other ‘4LIF’ and started to brutalize Jackson’s face.
Robbie stopped for a moment to let Jackson speak, “Heh, fuck you Robbie,” Jackson spit a tooth at Robbie’s face, “without the Venetians and Girl Scouts I was ready to own this town. But then I saw you had bonus time.”
“Bonus time? What did he mean by this? No matter, you willingly let me use my only friend as a meat shield!” Said Robbie Rotten, trying to justify him using his only friend as meat shield.
“You slimy, rotten piece of shit,” Jackson couldn’t help but cuckle, “I...I called the underdog, Robbie.”
“N-no,” Robbie stood up.
Jackson laughed harder, “Y-YOU’RE FUCKED, ROBBIE!”
Looking off into space Robbie took out his gun and blew off Jackson’s head to end his laughing--the sound of car pulling up could be heard, “He’s already here…”
Rolling up in his sports car, (You know? The one we saw drive by Izumii and Robbie at the begining?!? REMEMBER!?) was the mystery man.
“D’OH SHIT!” Shouted Robbie Rotten.
Coming out of his expensive douche bag sports car, was Robbie's Childhood molester.
“Oh goodie!” the man said as he stepped out. He was wearing a black leather trench coat with blacker shades.
“Meanswell…” Robbie sharted as Meanswell took off his glasses and looked directly at Robbie from the parking lot. Meanswell unzipped his pants, pointed at Robbie at the fourth floor, gave a flick of a nod, and dashed into the nightclub at inhuman speed. “D’oh shit, d’oh shit, D’OOHH SHIIIT!” Robbie cried as he heard footsteps zipping towards him.
Meanswell broke through the wall and tackled Robbie to the ground and began lick Robbie’s ear, “You’re a silly one Robbie, while you were out prancing around with your little buddies, I was out creating the biggest child touching empire in history.” Meanswell said
“You fucko,” Robbie said tensely.
“I touched Stingy AND Ziggy, and now I'm gonna touch YOU, AND THERE’S NOTHING YOU CAN DO ABOUT IT!” Meanswell began to laugh menacingly.
“Nha,” Robbie’s eyes began to tear yup, “N-NOOOO!”
Meanswell pulled down his pants. With his belt, he whipped Robbie with the force of a thousand mayors.
“Take. It. Off.” Said Mayor Meanswell.
“N-no!” Robbie Rotten pulled down his pants out of fear.
“Under pants too silly.” Meanswell smiled. “I wanna see it aaaalll.” He licked his lips and wiggled his fingers.
Robbie Rotten bent down over the office Desk.
“Ooh! Shaven! Yummy!” Said Meanswell.
Meanswell leaned over the naked Robbie Rotten. He rested his erect mayor weiner ontop of Robbie’s asscheeks. He leaned over and licked Robbie’s earlobe. “I’m gonna break you tonight.”
Robbie couldn't scream. He was struck with fear. His childhood molester, had returned… to do the deed. Mayor Meanswell chuckled. “Ah yes! Asshole goes great with.. Whipped cream!” The Mayor sprayed whipped cream all over the anus of Robbie Rotten. He got down on his knee’s and began to stick his tongue inside the ass of Robbie.
“Ooh! Surprise Chocolate!” Meanswell chuckled.
The Mayor put whipped cream all over his erect mayor penis. “MmmmmMmmmm CREAMY!”
The mayor slammed Robbie’s face onto the desk. He stuck his fingers inside Robbie’s mouth. Robbie let out a painful shout as Mayor Meanswell, shoved his mayor penis, inside Robbie’s rotten asshole.
Robbie’s ass felt so much familiar pain from the all too familiar dick. Robbie had enough. He grabbed the stapler and shoved it in the Mayor’s face. Staples entered Mayor’s right eye. The Mayor grabbed Robbie’s arm.
“Listen here! I am the boss around here!” The Mayor punched Robbie Rotten.
Rotten broke free from his grasp. Meanswell pushed him to the ground and began to penetrate Robbie’s asshole yet again. Robbie grabbed the nearby metallic water container. He began to bash away at Mayor Meanswell head. The Mayor was persistent. He wouldn’t stop until he was finished. Robbie shouted and did not stop hitting Meanswell over the head. Eventually, meanswell let out a satisfied moan.
Meanswell blacked out on top of Robbie Rotten. Robbie pushed him off and he felt his lifeless corpse. He looked at the deceased Mayor Meanswell, who just raped him. He ran into the bathroom and used a baby wipe to clean away the semen leaking from his ass. He walked out of the bathroom.
THERE WAS A GREAT BIG FLASH
And there Robbie saw a rotten figure.
He walked outside and squinted his eyes as he could see a bright light in the distance, coming out of the light was a figure that began to slowly walk forward and approach Robbie,
Robbie couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the spandex wearing figure in front of him
“ROBBIE ROTTEN?” Robbie said
“Who were you expecting-Sportaflop?” the other Robbie said
TO BE CONCLUDED.
cruisin'.
