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Andrew Hilbert

by Horror Sleaze Trash on November 20, 2010

Photo credit: “Photo cummed on by Chicken Head Red”


By Andrew Hilbert

Colonel Washingbone rested his cowboy boots on his desk.

“Mueller!” he yelled, lighting up a Marlboro, “Give me a status report on Agent 2345!”

“Sir! Agent 2345 is currently being restrained by the Long Beach Police Department but they failed to restrain his right hand. His right hand is continually stroking and shooting cum torpedoes all over Long Beach.”

“Long Beach’s a fucking warzone,” Washingbone smiled as he exhaled, “Beautiful. Imagine what we can turn the Middle East into with this war machine!”

“Sir, was not the mission to inseminate women to create super-soldier terrorist killing drones?!”

“The mission’s changed, son. Agent 2345’s cock is enough to destroy the moral fabric of any terrorist stronghold. Once you put cum in a man’s beard, he’ll be stoned to death for homosexuality. 2345’s war tactics are brilliant. Let them kill themselves!”

“We have more Agents in production, sir.”

“Perfect.” Washingbone wiped the dust off his crocodile skin boots, leaned back in his swivel chair and stared at the ceiling smiling, “We’ll win this war yet, son. We’ll win this war.”


“I must complete the mission!” Agent 2345 vigorously stroked his alloy penis. Each two strokes produced a new cream colored missile.

“Mission!?” Officer Merkel yelled out, “What mission?”

“I must find a viable pod to birth my children!”

“Children!? You’ll tear a woman in half with that goddamn thing!”

Military helicopters hovered over the scene.

“Long Beach Police! You are restraining U.S. government property. Let go! Restraining him only makes him hornier!” said one of the helicopters.

The fat police officers released their grip from Agent 2345’s left hand, right ankle and left ankle. Agent 2345’s metal alloy dick went limp.

They looked around Anaheim Street. It was completely destroyed. Hair gelled muscle men wiped the cum off of their Tapout shirts and hipster chicks licked their fingers. Agent 2345 painted the town off-white.

“Agent 2345! Your mission has changed!”

“I no longer must inseminate viable pods to create killing machines?” Agent 2345 sat up. He was breathing deeply. His balls shriveled up as they hit the cold street.

“No. You are the killing machine.”

“I don’t want to kill. I want to create,” Agent 2345 lifted himself from off the street, “I know that my creation will inevitably kill but as long as I’m not doing the actual killing, I feel no responsibility.”

“Look around, you fucking worthless turd,” the loudspeaker from the helicopter yelled, “Look at all the people you’ve killed, all the businesses you destroyed, all the dreams you’ve dashed! You’re a monster!”

“Monster?” Synthetic gasoline tears welled up in Agent 2345’s eyes. His metal alloy dick started to lift off.

“Yes,” the helicopter bellowed, “A GOD DAMN, MOTHERFUCKING MONSTER! Now stand right there so we can fly you over to Iran.”

“I’m no monster!” Agent 2345 roared. His calloused hands grabbed his cock firmly and pumped. His balls were close to out of juice but he still pumped that thing like some kind of knuckle shaking demon. It took a few more strokes to produce a damn good weapon but once he sensed that his cannon was about to explode, he smiled.

Like a fucking geyser, his acid semen hit the helicopters. They came crashing down, killing the police surrounding him, too.

He looked around. It was his chance to escape to Compton. He ran towards Cherry, his dick dragging behind him.

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