here u go
chapteer 1
"Ah yes, son. One day you shall grow up to be much like me." Said Bill. Dipper smiled, his chest churning like butter.
Dipper stayed quiet in his father's arms. He looked up, his young mind racing with thoughts. So many thoughts. "I'm so glad you're my daddy." Dipper said as Bill held him dearly. If Bill actually had a mouth, he would be smiling. A tear formed in his eye and dropped to the floor. "Son, what do you want most in life?" Bill inquired. Dipper took a brief moment to think about the question. "To know who my mom is." Dipper replied. He hoped by saying that he didn't agitate his father. "Ah." Bill spoke quietly. "Well, her name was Nicki Manaj." He began. "She had a five star booty, and a pet anaconda when she was still alive. She was a soccer mom though and this led me, over time, into insanity. She acted so outrageous! She would yell at me to do the dishes, switch the TV from my porn to the weather channel, and nicknamed me "illuminati" just for the fun of it."
Dipper gasped.
"And that's why I had to kill her."
Bill blinked. "I pulled out her teeth with pliers..I took her and bound her up with ropes and shoved a block up cheese up her butt. Then I cut off all her limbs, stuffed her in a refrigerator, and hung her from the ceiling." Dipper was scared now. "And now that you know.." Bill paused. "I have to do the same to you.." Dipper screeched and he hopped out of Bills warm arms and went into the kitchen and grabbed a knife. Bill followed shortly after him. "hEEEEEEEERES BILL" screamed Bill. Bill snapped and a chainsaw appeared in his hands, and it was on. He walked over to Dipper and cut Dipper in half slowly. He cut up the boy and put him on a tray and put him in the oven.
The next day Bill had visitors. They were his wife, Nicki Manaj, that he hadn't really killed, and her friend.
Bill had cooked a nice lasagna. He sat down with his wife and her friend and they began to eat. His wife looked up and said, "Wow. This is real great ya' know? What's it made of?"
Bill looked up from his plate. "It's made of our son."