by Kurt Knox
Nice.
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Back to hers?
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Nah (hop in your sweet whip, pull a donut and burn a hole outta there).
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Hitch a ride to your next erotic encounter.
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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Drop it like it’s hot! You roll around on the ground to put out the flames. Roll a ten-sided dice to determine if you live or die. What’s the score, hardcore?
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I scored 1-5.
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I scored 6-10.
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Um, actually, when it’s singular, it’s called a ‘die.’
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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That’s my boy! You follow the cat lady across the street and into her hizzy. Place is nasty though. The décor’s dank and the felines is everywhere. Kitties padding around the carpet, climbing up drapes, lying out on the couch like they own the damn crib. Place outta be condemned it stinks so bad. Cat lady sees your nose twitchin’.
‘Let me light some incense,’ she says, sparking up a stick.
The aroma’s sweet like the sticky icky. Smells mad chronic.
‘Why don’t you lie down while I slip into something more comfortable?’ cat lady says, ‘and after that you can give me the boning of my young life.’
Things is on the up and up. Cat lady goes off to pretty herself, leaving you sitting there with a twang in your pants. What do you do, G?
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Wait for her to get back then get smoochin’ on that fine ass like a President on a baby.
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Bail out the window. LOLZ!
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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Is that right? I guess you should give yourself a pat on the back, huh? Except you can’t, because both of your hands just fell off and now you’re bleeding out. Guess that’s what happens when you piss off your Dungeon Master. So what’s it going to be, huh? Do you want to say you’re sorry or die like a no-hands motherfucker?
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I’m sorry.
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I regret nothing.
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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You’re lying there juggling your junk when you hear a voice.
‘How dare you?!’ it says, all Hans Gruber outta Die Hard sounding.
You look over to see it ain’t your man Rickman though — it ain’t even a man! The lady’s cats have come together and combined like some Power Rangers shit and formed one giant mega-cat! Dang, son, is you trippin’?!
‘How dare you leave our tree-bound brethren in jeopardy then seek to procreate with the Mistress!’ the mega-cat roars, pointing at you with its paw the size of a damn toilet seat.
‘Prepare to die!’
How you gonna deal with this uncool cat?
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You gotta fight for your right to party (in that honey’s pants).
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Bail out the window. Sadface.
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Pinch yourself.
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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Finally, a bit of respect. Now, since you’re towing the line like a good boy, how about we get you back on track?
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Thanks for the real talk.
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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Respect, brah. No sense bringing everyone down complaining about your shitty lot in life. I didn’t complain when no one bought my last book. The book I spent six years slaving over. The book I still have eighteen hundred unsold copies of piled in my garage — a garage that used to house a sweet cherry red Cobalt SS before my bloodsucker of an ex-wife took me for every dime I had. It was a good book, damn it. Navy N. E. I. L. — that was the title — the story of Neil C. Galligan, assigned by Homeland Security to eliminate the threat of the al-Quaeda “by any means necessary.” If people knew what was good for them it would have been a best seller. Instead here I am, writing this goddamn shit to make ends meet. You think I wanted this life? I was a high school track star. Captain of my football team. Received an honorable mention from the 1988 Tampa Tribune All-Hillsborough County Squad. I could have gone pro if I hadn’t blown out my rotator cuff doing that keg stand at Chrissie Duffy’s sweet sixteen. This life, it chews you up and spits you out. But like I say, no point complaining about it.
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That's the straight dope.
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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You give the cat a blast of the fire hydrant. Unfortunately, you’re stood on the corner of Literal Street and Actual Avenue, and the fire hydrant is full of no-shitting fire! The cat is toast. The honey be trippin’. Ain’t no way no how you gonna tap that ass.
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Better bail, hustler...
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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The mega-cat comes bearing down on your like a two ton fuck beast. You jam your eyes shut and give the skin on the back of your hand a tweak. When you open your eyes again the cat’s ghosted, replaced by a potted rubber plant. There was no cat, you were just bugging out on them dank incense fumes! What the damn hell was in that stuff? Shit, this ain’t no place to be. Best get rollin’ before that crazy ho comes back.
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Scat, cat...
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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Well done, you have made it to Level Four, the final level. Where you wanna drop your pin now, gangster?
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Clowns always make me horny (go to the circus).
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Where the college chicks at? (go be big man on campus).
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I’ve been hearing some pretty good things about that cemetery…
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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Sho’ ‘nuff. You rock up to the cemetery, push open a creaky iron gate and go looking for some sweet widow ass. Time to get your monster mashed! One problem though: this place is haunted as shit. A ghost glides over, all glowing and covered in ectoplasm. It’s a lady ghost.
‘Oooooooooooooh,’ she says.
What now?
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A g-g-g-ghost? (book it the college).
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Cheese it to the circus.
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Perform the rites of exorcism.
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Ectoplasm ain’t nuttin’ but ghost lube (hit that sexy specter with a pick-up line).
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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You head for the college and post up on the quad. Ain’t been five minutes before some lab honey walks by giving you sex eyes. You lower your Oakleys and give her a look-see. Shit, son, this girl has a set of champagne breasticles and an ass that could mail a telegram to China. A braniac she may be, but this vixen’s got the fixin’s.
‘Excuse me, sir,’ she says, ‘I wonder if you wouldn’t mind being the subject of a science experiment.’
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I’m in there like swimwear.
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Don’t you know who I am? (tell her you’re a celebrity).
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Science is for nerds (go to the circus).
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Go to the cemetery.
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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You ain’t afraid of no ghost, nor are you perturbed by double negatives. You reach into your pants and pull out your trusty pocket bible. It’s the original exorcize book, yo!
‘Holy Lord, almighty Father, everlasting God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who once and for all consigned that fallen and apostate tyrant to the flames of hell, who sent your only-begotten Son into the world to crush that roaring lion; hasten to my call for help and strike terror into the beast now laying waste your vineyard. Fill your servant with courage to fight manfully against this reprobate, lest he despise those who put their trust in you, and say with Pharaoh of old: “I know not God, nor will I set Israel free.” Let your mighty hand cast him out in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, forever and ever, amen.
I command you, unclean spirit, whoever you are, by the mysteries of the incarnation, passion, resurrection, and ascension of our Lord Jesus Christ, by the descent of the Holy Spirit, by the coming of our Lord for judgment, that you tell me by some sign your name, and the day and hour of your departure. I command you, moreover, to obey me to the letter, for I am a minister of God. May Jesus, Son of Mary, Lord and Savior of the world, through the merits and intercession of His holy apostles Peter and Paul and all His saints, show you favor and mercy!’
Your reading has zero effect on the ghost, but it does bump me up to my minimum count of 10, 000 words, so that’s pretty baller.
What now?
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Hit the ghost with a pick-up line.
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Run for the college.
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Make tracks to the circus.
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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You hit up the nearest big top but you haven’t even had a chance to order peanuts before you notice some circus honey giving you sex eyes. You swagger over all breezy.
‘What do you do, baby?’ you ask.
‘Well, I’m real bendy and I can choke down a sword like it’s nothing, so I guess that makes me a contortionist cum swallower.’
Dayuuuuum.
‘So what do you say, stranger?’ she says. ‘You wanna grab a bite?’
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Dinner and a boobie? Sounds mighty fine.
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Thanks, but I already ate.
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This is probably going to end badly, isn’t it? (play it safe and go to the cemetery).
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Where the college chicks at? (go to the college)
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Sextrap Dungeon: Book 1, by Kurt Knox
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You head for the college and post up on the quad. Ain’t been five minutes before some lab honey walks by giving you sex eyes. You lower your Oakleys and give her a look-see. Shit, son, this girl has a set of champagne breasticles and an ass that could mail a telegram to China. A braniac she may be, but this vixen’s got the fixin’s.
‘Excuse me, sir,’ she says, ‘I wonder if you wouldn’t mind being the subject of a science experiment.’
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I’m in there like swimwear.