Forums » Writing Workshop » Read Thread

I just had a brilliant idea. I'm going to make a story, called "Farmer Joe."  It will be the story of the ultra-religious, ultra-conservative redneck who must defend his farm from a pack of wild furries, who have inbred with the local animal population for years. 

Characters will include his daughter, his wife and his son. 

Also, his son will perhaps aid him in his battle against the suited bastards. 

So what do you guys think of this offensive, insane idea? Any comments? It has yet to be created. Just an idea as for right now. 

As long as you make NRA jokes, I'm all for it.

Sounds okay to me.

Consider "Night of the Yiffing Furverts" as an alternate title.

I honestly can not say that I condone nor condemn this concept. I have a feeling that I will find offense in the final product, but nothing you've told me so far stands out as even potentially upsetting. On another note, I think you mean interbred, not inbred.

He's going to be a racist, homophobic, ultra-conservative wing-nut. 

Totally not stereotyped. :P 

So his wife is black, his son is gay and his daughter is a tree hugger?

More like his wife is abused, his daughter is locked in the basement because she spoke to a fellow outside marriage, and he keeps threatening to stone his son. 

Technically everything I just suggested isn't mutually exclusive to what he's doing to them.

So wait, is your goal to make fun of rednecks or furries or are you just insulting both groups?

My goal is to insult/make fun of both groups. 

You have to understand that I actually live around several people who could be considered such. I can give you a whole lot more stereotypes, if you'd like.

Inbred - when an organism was produced by sibling or relative organisms.  Usually, they're close by relation.

Umm? Okay? I knew that. I was just telling Malk that he wasn't using the word correctly.

My ba-

Does it even matter?  I'm willing to bet that over 60% of the flurries are into inbreeding as well.

'Twas an accident.

"Ain't no lovin' like lovin' ya cousin" - Arkansas State Motto

I got my chart of it done. 

http://postimg.org/image/6mja3i85z/

Exquisite handwriting, sire.

Am I the only one who zoomed in to see the paths? d:

Yeah, it's pretty awful. You might be the only one who could read it... XD 

Welp, first page is done! XD 

Baruppity-ruppity-ruppity-ruppity. 

Your car makes the most unpleasant noise that most people could ever care to hear. As you drive down the dusty streets of Bush Valley, Arkansas you watch all the pathetic city-slickers cover their ears as you drive by. You chuckle to yourself. You enjoy the site of these pathetic little bitches cringing at the symphony of noise your muffler-less car makes as you drive by at alarming speeds. They would probably die if they had to spend a night at your farm. You would love to hear them react to the sounds of cows shoving calves out of their freakishly large vaginas. 

Seven hay-bails line your flatbed as you drive, practically flooring the speeds. Cops don't give a fuck, anyway. They're probably busy shooting black kids or whatever the fuck they do in their spare time. You don't really care. If they want to shoot some little punk over jaywalking, they're probably justified in doing it. 

You leave the humdrum of the city, approaching your shitty little settlement your great-great-great grandfather (not the cousin-fucker)  had called a farm. 

As you park the car, you notice three things that enrage you. 

One, your son is talking to his boyfriend again. 

Two, your daughter is wearing a shirt with a peace sign and a tree. 

Worst of all, it appears your wife has left the kitchen...

You...

Well I can see you implemented a few of my suggestions. Here are some possible choices.

1. Rip the phone from your son's hand and slam his head against the wall

2. Rip the shirt off your daughter and slam her head against the wall

3. Punch your wife in the stomach and throw her back in the kitchen (You don't want to bruise her face)

How long does it take for Child Services to notice?

There is no Bush Valley in Arkansas. We have Pickles Gap, Booger Hollow, Toad Suck, Baldknob, and a bunch of other places with screwed up names. Also, I love how you picked to riff on Arkansas.

I was making up a city. :P 

Don't get butthurt... 

You pick up the phone, and rapidly punch in the combination. You had made your son  give it to you to make sure he wasn't secretly sinning behind your back; this gesture was pointless.

You dial up the number of the Republican Times, and press the iPhone against your ear. 
"Republican Times, how can I help you?" A cheerful male voice inquires. 
"I've got a dead furry on my property..." You say vaguely, glancing at your prone son. You begin to daydream about stoning him, but that will have to wait. Pa's  got to deal with some business first. 
"Furries, sir? I'm afraid I don't know what you mean?" He asks, mildly disturbed.
"Yeah. Furries. Those fags in furry suits who like to fuck animals." You respond, irritated that he doesn't immediately recognize your problem.
"Sir, can we keep your language civil? Mathew fifteen-ten-eleven makes itself clear on that, sir." He admonishes. You mutter something obscene and anatomically improbable into the microphone. 
"And he called the people to him and said to them, 'Hear and understand: it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person, but what comes out of the mouth; this defiles a per-"
"I know the fucking scripture, all right? Fuckers." You nearly shout into the microphone before you regain your composure. The man lets out a heavy sigh. "Hey, c'mon. I really need you to report on this. They've been destroying my way of life." You lie on this last bit; a coop of chickens is hardly a way of life. However, odds are this man has minimal education and isn't the brightest. This is the Deep South, you know. 
"All right... fine. I'll transfer you to my manager." He responds. Before you can open your mouth again, your hear the familiar beep that means you're on hold. 
You... 

Lol sorry. The formatting is fucked up to all hell.

In case you need more help, here you go.

CHOICE 1

Your son is supposed to be the one to carry on your name and that's not going to happen if he's gargling cock.

As your son talks to his boyfriend, you rip the phone from his hand and crush a few of his fingers in the process.

"Goddamnit, I fucking told you to stop being a faggot!" you yell and then brutally slam your son's head into the wall before he can even cry about his fingers being crushed.

Upon seeing this sight, your daughter runs back into the basement to presumably go change her shirt and your wife runs back in the kitchen. Well at least your display of dominance has gotten the women back in line.

But your son really needs to know what it means to be a man and by the One True God in Fluffy Cloud Heaven you're going to beat it into him if you have to.

"It's who I am, you fucking fascist!" your son whines as he attempts to struggle from your vice like grip on the back of his neck.
"Better a fascist than a faggot!" you exclaim and slam your son's head into the wall again.

At this point you twist his arm behind his back and demand that he recite bible passages.

"Okay! Okay! Which ones?" he asks.
"You know goddamn well which fucking ones you sodomite! Now SAY THEM!" you shout into his ear and slam his face into the wall breaking his nose this time.

Completely defeated, your son begins to recite bible passages that he thinks you're referring to, specifically the ones that say man shall not lay down with man or some shit. After mumbling them through the pain of a broken bloody nose, he begs you to release him.

"I'm giving the goddamn orders around this fucking house and I certainly ain't taking them from the likes of fudge packer like you! I'll release you when I'm fucking good and ready!" you say and then release him by throwing him into a nearby end table.

Your son crashes to the ground, knocking over the end table and banging himself up really good. In fact he doesn't get up.

"Oh stop being a fucking drama queen, I didn't even hit you that hard." you say and then kick him while he's down. He still doesn't move.

You quickly check for a pulse and see if he's still breathing. Luckily he is, which saves you the trouble of digging a grave out back. (You certainly wouldn't have given him mouth to mouth, you might've gotten AIDS)

In any case you leave your son unconscious on the floor and ponder your next move.

1. Watch the game

2. Call up a Gay-Away Camp

CHOICE 2

Your son is a lost cause and you'll probably have to stone him eventually, but you can at least try to keep your daughter pure.

You immediately run at your daughter whose eyes widen in terror when she see you. She tries to run back into the basement, but you grab her shirt and proceed to rip it off of her.

"Take shit off! Take it off now you fucking whore!" you yell as you tear off the shirt.
"No daddy, no!" she screams back as the shirt comes off revealing her two perfectly rounded naked tits in front of you. Her eyes tear up as she tries to cover herself.

Now a lesser man would give into temptation, but not you. Your daughter may have been cursed with the body of a harlot, but by the One True God in Fluffy Cloud Heaven you're going to beat some purity into her namely by slamming her head into the wall.

Upon seeing this sight your son bolts for the door with phone still in hand and your wife runs back into the kitchen.

"Daddy, please don't do this! I'll be a good girl!" she pleads.
"What's that?! Are you trying to fucking temp me you fucking slut?! I bet you like this don't you? Up against the wall with my crotch up against your ass. Well I'm not one of those fucking weak willed boys you're giving blow jobs to behind the school yard, I'm a WARRIOR OF FUCKING GOD!" you yell and then spin your daughter around causing her tits to bounce around with a hypnotic effect.

Getting angry, you grab her tits tightly to keep them from distracting you from your righteous cause and demand that she recite bible passages.

"(Sniffle) which ones?" your daughter says wiping away tears.
"You know goddamn well which ones! Now say 'em you cum dumpster!" you shout.

Terrified out of her mind, she tearfully starts spouting some passages relating to Jezebel and some other whores from the bible. Whenever she stumbles you twist a nipple to give a little more incentive to remember. It works as all things relating to God do.

After she's done, she begs you to let her go.

"I give the fucking orders around here, not whores! I'll let you go when I'm good and ready!" you shout. After five minute pass, you stop squeezing her tits and push her back into the basement and lock the door.

"And you won't come back out until you stop being a fucking whore!" you shout.

Feeling closer to God after doing his good work, you also notice you got a big ol' erection causing you to ponder your next move.

1. Watch the game

2. Flog yourself of possible impure thoughts


And the wife choice would go something similar. Anyway, you get the idea. I'm guessing you can lead up to the animal raping furries from here.

 

Needs more chick tracks. XD 

Well, if I was writing the story, I'd probably throw more stuff like that in. As it stands though I'm more or less just providing suggestions to Malk, since he's asked me for suggestions on this story in the past.

I probably went over the top for what even he was intending and I was still sort of holding back a bit, but I figure he can cut, add, and change what he wants to use.

It's terrifying that you could write all of that on a whim, randomly. XD

I was thinking of something like that. The more bigotry I throw in, the better. :P

Well the racism aspect isn't immediately able to be shoehorned in due to the limited cast (His family who I assume are all still white and the furries which is an entirely different situation).

However, I suppose if he's watching the football game there are definitely going to be black guys playing, so he can go on a racist tirade about that before switching over to NASCAR. He could probably go on various rants like this throughout the story, like ranting about Asians after his rifle made in China breaks at a critical moment.

If you want more direct racism though, you'll have to introduce more people somehow, like the son's black boyfriend coming over before the furries start attacking. Making him mixed with something other than white as well gives you even more options for bigotry.

Malk, if you have the son's boyfriend come to the farm when the furries attack, make him the first to die. Because, to tell you the truth, I'm kind of a homophobe. Plus the black guy always dies first, gotta keep to that stereotype!

Homophobe? Kill it, quickly, before it lays eggs! Heil Hitler Hitler the Nazi Nazi!

KILL IT! KILL IT WITH FIRE! 

Yay! I just finished a scene where you find a bunch of chickens that were fucked in the asshole! Hoorah! 

It wasn't me. I promise. I normally just eat them, unless it just happens to be a really lonely night.

*Insert something funny*

Damn it, Chris. If you're going to "insert something funny*, you're supposed to actually insert something funny.

*Insert something funnier*

Fuck you.

*Insert something even funnier*

Nevermind...

Sorry, I'm never stepping foot in a puppy death shack veterinary clinic again.

There's a puppy mill right next door to me...

That's quite...not something I'd expect you to say in such a cavalier manner.

I could probably get you a good weekly rate.  :P

I don't understand, and I am quite horrified.

Sex. It means sex. I don't know either.

Just disregard the comment then.  It was a poor attempt at humor anyway.

I can't disregard it now. I have to know. Just kinda like when I picked up this fur trapping book at Hasting's out of sheer damnable curiosity, then got pissed and threw it across the aisle. Seriously, I don't know how half the shit they mentioned in that book could even be legal. On another note, Kitty Cat Skunk Bait and Pickled Fox Vagina would make interesting names for an indie rock band.

What kind of weed are you guys smoking? Oh, and can I have some?

I don't know, but I haven't seen Madbrad around lately.

...

Oh shit.

I just asked because I need to get into my MLG GET REKT OH BABY A TRIPLE NO-SCOPE MOUNTAIN DEW SMOKE WEED EVERYDAY GOTTA GO FAST mood.

Chill.  Just chill.

You're old! You don't know what us kool kidz* do nowadays! 

*Note: I am not actually a "Kool Kid", I am actually a nerd. I would never want to be a "kool kid" and will never be one. I am also sorry for calling you old.

You should have said "we cool kids". A true grammar Nazi wouldn't have made such a mistake.

*Drops loaded pistol at Chris' feet*

You know what must be done.

*Leaves room and locks door*

No... I will do it like the samurais...

*Takes out sword* Goodbye, cruel world...

*Stabs self in gut and opens up stomach, making my insides fall out*

Now you must make sure I am dead fox. CHOP OF MY HEAD!!!

No, you have not been honorable. Atone for your disgrace with your suffering. Also, I really hold a katana with my little paws.

I'm already dead, you dickbag!

Dickbag? You know, it would suck to have the name Richard Baggs.

*pisses into gut-hole* 

I saw a plaque on a dentist's office that read Dr. Paine DDS.

My mom once knew a guy named Duncan Cox.

I bet he got teased a lot... 

Excuse me, I need to go Duncan my Cox for a while. 

Are you kidding me? Of course he got teased a lot. I don't even have a particularly outstanding name, and I got teased for it. Cocker, Corker, Cock Sucker...

I guess I was lucky when it came to my name.  My last name doesn't rhyme with, or sound like anything.  The only thing anyone could come up with was Greg, the egg.