South Park

Dip

Ungodly Addiction

Characters: Phillip 'Pip' Pirrup, Damien the Antichrist.

Rating: M for strong language, adult themes, nudity, violence, sexual… stuff… and a really crappy storyline.

Thoughts are in Italics

I have a universal Disclaimer in my Profile, so all angry mobs bearing pitchforks and torches are unnecessary.

**DIP**

Ya know what?

Life'd be so much easier'f I was dead.

No, think 'bout it.

'f I was dead, I'd have no need f' food or drink or sleep, jus' like Damien. 'f I was dead, I cud be in Hell an' in this world, so I cud follow his sseh-sec-sexy ass ev'rywhere, 'n' he wouldn' have to worry 'bout me. 'Cuz I'd already be dead, see, so techn'c'lly I couldn't die again.

I think.

Yeah, life'd be better 'f I was dead.

But then, there is the matter of sex. Hot, sexy sex with hot sexy Damien. Yes, please.

But, ev'n with him being the spawn of Satan 'n' all, even he'd draw the line at necrof- necrofilly-necrifolly- sleeping with a dead person, wouldn't he?

Yeah, probably.

Damn it.

Only flaw in my genius plan, that.

Hmmmm…

Maybe… I could, I dunno, talk Dam into sex…

Pffft, that'd be the day, when I actually have to convince Damien the Horny Bastard to pound me into the mattress…

Damn it, I wan' sex now.

DDAAAAMMIIIEEEEENNNNNNNNN

COME BACK FROM YOUR LAME BIS'NESS THINGY AND FUCK MEEEEEEE…

"Well, that's one way to welcome me home."

I nearly break my neck as I spin my head 'round to see Damien – hot sexy Damien – standing in the door to th' kitchen, smirking.

Shit, I yelled that out loud, din't I?

Ahh, fuck it.

"Damien!" I shout happily, trying to get gracefully to my feet, and ending up on my face. Yeah, that's me, Pip the ballet dancer, with moves so elegant they border on the idiotic. Imagine that, me in a tutu. And Damien in a leotard and tights, ready to catch me from my epic pirouette…

Mmmmmmmmm Damien in tights. Tight tights, showin' it all off…

Heheheheheheee….

"You're hammered."

It wasn't a question, but hell if I'm not gonna answer anyways. Not the boss of me, you subtle quirks of the English language.

"As a nail," I giggle. Ah I'm so funny, takes a genius to come up with that after a nearly full bottle of whiskey's been through your system.

Mmm, whiskey... Wonder if we have any more whiskey…

I spy Damien looking at my almost empty bottle of whiskey. S'my whiskey, ya bastard. Get your own bloody whiskey.

"I think you've had enough, Pip," Hot sexy Damien says, his red red red eyes lookin' into my very soul. How poetic. I'm a right Pope… no, tha's not right… POE! Tha's it.

His sexy hands wrestle my bloody whiskey away from me – s'my whiskey, not yours get your own and leave me to my whiskey you're not gettin' any tonight you left me alone for three fucking days – and puts it on the table, before picking me up like a doll – I'm not a fucking girl, I have a dick too, ya know, ya cocky bastard… cocky… haha tha's a funny word… cocky… Yeah, Damien's pretty cocky… hehehehehe – and carrying me up the stairs.

Stupid stairs. Trying to trip me up all the time. You won't catch me this time, Stairs; I have Damien here to keep me away from your deceit!

By the time I figure out that Damien is NOT taking me to bed for hot sexy sex – Damn it – I have already been stripped and dumped in the bathtub. Damien gives me a devilish grin - ahaha s'funny 'coz he's the Devil – before turning the cold water on full blast.

SHIT FUCK DONKEY BALLS is that cold!

I yelp and try to leap out of the so-cold-your-balls-drop-off water, but Damien the Bastard won't let me. He pushes me back into the Fucking Freezing Water of Sex-life Doom, determined to make me suffer.

Soon the bathtub is full of my own personal Antarctica, and Damien turns off the stream of deathly cold. I muster up my most hateful glare – how dare he permanently disadvantage my poor parts? What'd my dick ever do to him? Nothing, that's what – it's his dick that was doing the doing.

Damn it, I want sex still…

I half-notice Damien grinning at me for some stupid reason – sadistic bastard is enjoying my discomfort, the tosser–

OH BLOODY BUGGERING FUCK!

I gasp and splutter, all sense of blissful drunkenness gone in the instant that stupid Bastard Damien tipped a bucketful of the icy water over my head.

Hello, Sobriety.

Goodbye, happy feelings.

I groan, rubbing water from my eyes and giving Damien my best death stare. He merely grins and shrugs it off like everything was normal, like any normal teenager would tip icy cold water all over their happily smashed boyfriend for the hell of it.

Bastard.

I start shivering, and finally that whole romantic chivalry crap starts to kick in. Damien jumps up and fetches me a towel, helping me stagger out of the bath – I swear I've got frostbite – and wrapping the fluffy cloth around me, trying to warm me up. Too late now, you bloody wanker. I'm going to die of hypothermia and it's all your fault.

"The hell was that for?" I growl, my voice a little scratchy from the throwing up and the draining a large bottle of hard liquor. Damien chuckles, wrapping an arm around my towel-covered body and steering me towards the bedroom.

"Well, you aren't drunk any more, are you?" He points out, and I can't help but agree. I'm certainly not drunk anymore. Not to mention th–

Oh, God, here comes the hangover.

Hello, headache.

Goodbye, Damien's manhood…

AN ~

Okay, be honest.

Did I suck at writing as a horny, drunken British teenager? I did, didn't I?

Damn.

Ah well, if you guys got a laugh out of it, then my work here is done…

I swear I had far, far too much fun with typing up this one. Drunkard Pip is hilarious.

I must say I needed the slightly more light-heartedness of this chapter – stressed out much XD

Now, in response to Scarlet Wolf's review of the chapter before last (sorry, didn't read the reviews till after the other chapter was posted)… Please, don't feel too bad for me, I'll be fine. And it's not that I don't want you knowing, it's just that I'm not sure everyone wants to hear the gory details about some guy they never knew… Gotta make sure I'm not wasting all your time, right? :D

Coming soon: revelations, revenge, absences, adolescence, alcohol (lots of it), and an ending… Yes, that's right; we're getting close to the end of our tale. D:

I estimate about 20 chapters, give or take (most likely give)…

So, until next time,

Zanchev.