One day my good friend Danka and I were drinking on the stoop of Danka’s house playing the “Most Fucked Up Story Game”. The game is rudimentary and simplistic. The goal is to tell the most fucked up story of the evening thus becoming the winner.
Dana served a short time in the United States Navy before being discharged for being an Alcoholic who was “Derelict of Duty” or some stupidly phrased bullshit statement. You see Danka had a habit of going binge drinking while on shore leave which resulted in a semi concous Danka being dragged to returning to the ship for check in by his fellow soldiers. Finally Danka out did even himself by missing Check In in favor of chilling at some waitresses’s apartment he was hooking up with in Tijuana, eating Captain Crunch cereal, and watching American cartoons in Spanish. Well that was the final straw that broke the preverbal Camal’s back, and the Navy booted Danka instructing him never to return to any branch of the United States Military ever again.
Before being unceremoniously kicked out of the Navy Danka had spent several months down in Tijuana Mexico were he was temporarily stationed for some fucking Navy related reason. While in Tijuana Danka learned some tactics for day to day safety and survival that weren’t taught in the Navy. It was simply how to navigate daily life in Tijuana without running into trouble with Thieves, Drug Dealers, Pimps, Gangs, Cartels, Muggers, Car Jackers, Con Artists, Drug Addicts, Hookers, Ex Convicts, Militias and Corrupt Cops.
Now with the corrupt Cops it was basic Extortion. If a Tourist per say wandered into the wrong neighborhood the Cops would arrest them, and then drive them directly to an ATM. The Police Officers would then demand a bribe of usually $300 U.S., BUT if you refused to pay they would take you to jail on some bullshit trumped up charge. While it goes without saying that Jail fucking sucks, and is one of the last places anyone would want to find themselves especially in a foreign 3rd World Country. Mexican Jails have a foul reputation for being filthy, over crowded, understaffed, Bribing of Guards, Murders, Rapes, and inhumane living conditions for the most part.
This is what happened to Danka’s buddy named Blackburn. Blackburn was on shore leave and had had a few drinks when he wondered off the main fairway into a shitty neighborhood. While desperately trying to find his way back, which was complicated by his intoxication, Blackburn was picked up by a couple of Corrupt Cops looking for a quick pay day. The Cops drove Blackburn to the ATM and demanded payment ($300 U.S. per Officer times 2 for a total of $600 U.S.), and Blackburn told them too fuck off because he wasn’t giving them a single goddamn cent. So the Cops threw Blackburn into the back of the squad car, but instead of taking him to the nearest shithole jail they drove him to a sleazy Dive Bar on the outskirts of the city that featured Nightly Donkey Shows (if you don’t know what a Donkey Show is Google it) The police shoved Blackburn into the dimly lit backroom of the Bar and tied him to a rickety wooden chair. The Police then proceeded to sell Blackburn to the Bar owner for $775 U.S. and then left quickly.
The Bar owner had one of his cronies take Blackburn out back to a Small Barn located next to the Bar. Once there Blackburn was stripped buck naked and tied to a barn post. The Bar Owner’s henchmen then ground up 3 or 4 bottles of Viagra and mix them with a quarter ounce of Crystal Meth. Once the concoction was full mixed together the Side Kicks laced a 32 ounce Corona with it, and then fed it to a Donkey that was penned up in a cramped stall. About 50 minutes later the Donkey had a raging 18 inch erection and was violently kicking the sides of the pen. One of the Cronies then untied Blackburn from the post, and then tied his hands behind his back while the other crony aggressively lassoed the inscenced Donkey. The 3 men and the doped up Donkey then made their way over to the Bar and entered through a side delivery entrance.
The Bar smelled like hot stale beer and body oder mixed with piss. There were a handful of patrons spread out through out the Bar that was so smoky it was like being trapped in a fucking mist or some shit. The Henchman responsible for Blackburn took him over to a worn out Pummel Horse that was held together with Duct Tape. He then bent Blackburn over the Pummel Horse and bound Blackburn’s wrists and ankles together. Next a shitfaced MC comes on a beat 1972 PA System to announce the Nightly Donkey Show is Starting. After a short pause to allow the Bar Patrons time to freshen their drinks and light a smoke the 2nd Henchman dragged the Donkey over fighting it every step of the way. As the Donkey was being brought over the Bar Owner came over to Blackburn and sprayed him with Female Donkey Pheromones and Menstrual Blood to get the deranged drugged up Donkey’s attention. It worked. It worked extremely well. In an instant the Donkey got a whiff of Blackburn and galloped over to him, and mounted Blackburn placing its front legs on Pummel Horse on either side of Blackburn. As soon as the Donkey penetrated Blackburn it went fuck wild, this Donkey wasn’t playing “Just The Tip” with Blackburn he was slamming shaft balls deep in Blackburn’s battered butthole. It took about 17 minutes before the Donkey finally completed and its semen was seeping out of Blackburn’s broken butthole like a garden hose.
Blackburn was about to be loaded into a car and left to die of his injuries in the Desert to die when the a group of American Military Police busted in the front door of the Bar with a vengeance. Blackburn had to be taken out on a fucking stretcher and Medivaced by Helicopter to a Special Surgical Trauma Hospital in Seattle Washington. Blackburn lived after spending the better part of a year in the Hospital where the Surgeons removed just over 8 feet of his intestines, rebuilt his bowls, reconstructed his rectum, and stitched up his sphincter. Blackburn was discharged from the Navy Under Section 8 Status due to his Donkey Rape induced PTSD. He moved home to Shasta South Dakota and lives in his Mom’s basement on permanent disability watching Anime while drooling on himself while playing with his pecker making guttural sounds.
Needless to say there was no fucking way I could top that Tale of Terror in Tijuana so Danka went home that night quite drunk and the most fucked up story winner.
Thanks For Das READ,
Les Sober 