Video Game Mockaries: Dating My Daughter Part 3

NSFW Warning

Here we are, continuing on our journey of self-hatred and terror. 

Once again with 13​ by my side, we will prevail. 

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Thirteen: Man it’d be cool if we had the technology to identify someone before seeing them in person.
Thirteen: Also, what the fuck?
Thirteen: You’re EXPECTING your daughter, and she just totally doesn’t resemble what you remember of her at all?
Thirteen: I think this just stopped being as creepy because this is clearly some other random girl. 
Me:  Pretending to be his biological daughter to get a free place to stay. 
Thirteen:  Yep. And dick, inevitably. And probably the dildo collection. 
Thirteen:  His REAL daughter got lost, met a cute girl, and ended up running away with her. 
Me:  And they all lived gaily ever after. 
Thirteen:  And far far away from her incestuous pedo dad.

Blah blah blah more talking still in the same hallway. Awkward conversation is awkward. Until FINALLY:

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Thirteen:  So why is she standing like she had her hip explode anyway?
Me:  She’s protecting her hip from attack. 
Thirteen:  That’s not the bit you wanna protect hon 
Thirteen:  It’s a little lower.

Blah blah blah Humbert just says the exact same thing like 900 times. She calls him dad, we both die a little on the inside. 

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Me:  How about: golly gee dad, how come you’re crowding me up against the door and staring at my tits? 
Thirteen:  The cartoon bear on her giant tiddies is a nice touch. 
Me:  It’s Whinnie the Pedo Trap 
Me:  Oh wait that wasn’t Lolita talking this whole time. 
Me:  That was Humbert. 
Me:  Haha it’s even in a different color and I should have noticed this and I feel dumb. 
Thirteen:  Oh I was too busy trying to translate tiddy bear’s heart. 
Me:  I was too busy being visually assaulted by bright white and bright red simultaneously. 
Thirteen:  Yeah this place must be hell to keep clean based on all the fucking bright white. And that was BEFORE she got here. Gods know it’s going to be much filthier now.
Thirteen:  Also, I am SO uncomfortable with how short she is. I mean, sure, petite women exist and are great but it’s NOT helping the “she is 12 with a boob job” vibes.
Thirteen: Which I suppose is the point. 

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Me:  She pretty much looks exactly like my 13 year old niece is said niece had blonde hair. And giant plastic surgery tits. This is hard to look at, not gonna lie. 
Thirteen:  Nice that she’s stuck in Sexbot Pose #5 now, thrusting her familial tiddies at us as much as possible. 
Thirteen:  Seriously, who holds their arm like that? I just tried and it was not comfortable.
Me:  ow. You’re right

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Me:  I just wish they would fucking stop talking. 
Me:  Every click is more and more of this boring bullshit. 
Thirteen:  It could be worse.
Thirteen: Just remember that.
Thirteen:  Soon you’ll wish for boring.

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Thirteen:  Yes yes you want to jizz all over her pudgy chipmunk face we get it shut up.

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Me:  auggghhh.
Thirteen:  Eeeaaauuughhhh.

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Me: Well fuck what do we pick? 
Thirteen:  I mean my choice is “touch her as little as possible”.
Thirteen:  But are we going for “try to do this ‘correctly'”, “intentional sabotage by being as gross as Humbert really is”, or “AVOID INCEST AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE POR FAVOR”? 
Me:  We’re going for minimal self-sabotage morbid curiousity while also not trying to be a shitty father. 
Thirteen:  I’m not sure how to do that, man.
Thirteen: Considering what we have to work with. 
Me:  Man I think we should just shake her hand. That seems fatherly. 
Thirteen:  He’s so gonna grab her tit. 
Thirteen:  (Well, probably not, but you know he WANTS to.) 
Me:  LET’S FIND OUT.

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Me:  I’m pretty sure we got 0 points. We’re the best at this game. 
Thirteen:  I think someone put her jaw on wrong. It keeps looking weird. Well her lower lip does. 
Thirteen:  Is there a “bad” end where we don’t fuck our daughter?
Thirteen: Let’s try for that one.

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Me:  This handshake has gone on too long now. 
Thirteen:  Watch even seemingly innocuous actions become creepy as fuck through the magic of this…thing!

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Thirteen:  Everything occurring here, yes 
Me:  Yes.

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Me: WELL YOU’RE SOL LOLITA BECAUSE I’M PUTTING ON DAD CHARM AND DAD-ZONING YOU. 
Thirteen:  AND IT’S TERRIBLE THAT WE SHOULD EVEN HAVE TO DO THAT BY THE WAY YOU DISGUSTING LITTLE SUCCUBUS.
Me:  PUT YOUR SHORTS BACK ON AND LET’S GO GET SOME ICE CREAM AND WATCH A BALL GAME.

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Me: STOP TRYING TO MAKE SENSE, HUMBERT. I HATE YOU. 
Thirteen: “Most people hate physical contact”????? 
Thirteen: Here I was under the impression that people who hate physical contact are the outliers.
Thirteen: Wow I’m normal
Thirteen: Who knew
Thirteen: (Not me) 
Me:  I mean. Okay, but. Listen, if I was a person who enjoyed physical contact. Which I’m not. But if I was, I would basically be like “NOT YOU HUMBERT. NOT. YOU.” And just tell him I hate physical contact. Though, at 27, I doubt I’m his type. 
Thirteen:  LOL Okay fine, I guess he does have a skewed perspective.
Thirteen: Shit like this is why I got into goth fashion. Cover yourself in spikes and the pervs can’t get you as easy.
Thirteen: #lifehacks

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Me: ….
Thirteen: Yeah I bet you do, strumpet. Special hugs.

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Me:  GET IN THE CAR LET ME DRIVE YOU BACK TO THE AIRPORT. GO TO A BALL GAME WITH YOUR MOTHER. BYE LOLITA. 
Thirteen:  BAD TOUCH BAD TOUCH BAD TOUCH BAD TOUCH.
Me:  A BAD TOUCH ON MY EYEBALLS. 
Thirteen:  YES.
Thirteen:  I NEED AN ADULT.

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Me: Please no.
Thirteen: ….BAD TOUCH.
Thirteen:  Humbert you will do NO SUCH THING.

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Me:  I guess we finally get an explanation as to why she’s been out of touch for 10 years. 
Thirteen:  What? She wanted her tiddies to pop out so she could seduce him easier? 
Thirteen:  (This word game I’m playing just accepted “poon” and I feel dirty.)

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Me:  I say Humbert takes some responsibility. What do you think? 
Thirteen:  Yeah, sure. Man up and accept what a dumbass you are, Humbert.

Blah blah blah Humbert feels bad about not calling. Continues to call her honey. Blah blah blah excuses about when she left the country. Blah blah blah. Something heartwarming happens and still manages to be creepy. All leading to this:

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Thirteen:  YOU STOP THAT RIGHT NOW YOU DISGUSTING HARLOT.
Me:  I EXPECTED YOUR MOTHER TO RAISE YOU BETTER THAN THIS. 
Thirteen:  jesus where IS her mom?
Thirteen:  why is she not stopping her child from DOING TERRIBLE THINGS?
Me:  I don’t know. I guess we’re her mothers now. Don’t worry child, we’ll stop you from getting dicked by your old man. And by that I mean, we’ll kill him. And you if you don’t stop being so thirsty.

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Me:  Okay Lolita. Take it down a notch. 
Me:  Or eleven. 
Thirteen:  I’m not adopting this vile hellspawn. 
Thirteen:  She’s at least as much to blame as him.
Thirteen:  So yeah, cleanse them with fire, etc.
Me:  Brandish your sage knife. 
Thirteen:  GONNA SAGE THIS GROSS SHIT OUT OF YOU BITCHES.

Blah blah blah Humbert wants her to be there too. Blah blah blah fatherly bullshit. Blah blah blah. 

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Me:  Do we hug her or not? 
Me:  I don’t wanna play into this little harlot’s trap. 
Thirteen:  Yeah I mean, it’s a good Dadly thing to do but…
Thirteen:  That’s what this vile creature wants.
Me:  …I’ll hug her. One time. For .00001 seconds. 
Thirteen:  Awkwardly as fuck so she never wants another.

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Me: I AM DISGUSTED 
Me:  BLOCKED BLOCKED BLOCKED 
Me: YOU’RE ALL BLOCKED 
Thirteen: EW EW EW LET GO OF THAT TARTED UP TWELVE YEAR OLD RIGHT THIS INSTANT HUMBERT.
Thirteen: BAD TOUCH
Thirteen: LEGITIMATELY 

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Me:  If his couch is black, I’m leaving. 
Thirteen:  Ugh her sexbot pose is creeping me out more and more. This thing is Not Right.

Blah blah blah Lolita agrees. Some awkward fumbling. The screen goes black. And then: 

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Me:  I vote go to another room. 
Thirteen:  And never come back 
Me:  Kickflip into the sun. 
Thirteen:  It’s where he belongs tbh.
Me:  I ACCIDENTALLY HIT COMPLIMENT TRYING TO GO BACK TO THE WINDOW 
Thirteen:  AUGH 
Me:  OH MY GOD WHAT HAVE I DONE?

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Thirteen:  ABORT ABORT ABORT.
Me:  DONALD TRUMP IS THAT YOU?

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Me: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooo 
Thirteen:  AAAAAUUUGGGHHHH.

And then we’re back at the choice screen with a third green point :/. I don’t like where this is going. I choose talk to her. There’s a conversation. Then: 

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Me:  Which is creepier? “How is your mother I divorced ten years ago?” or “Are you alone 😉 😉 *nudge nudge*”? 
Thirteen:  “How is your mom” is less creepy I think?
Thirteen: That’s just nice chit-chat right?
Thirteen: Catching up on her life in a non-gross way.

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Me:  Brad sounds top notch, why not go and fuck him? 
Thirteen:  Probably already did, that’s why she’s moved on to greener (grosser) pastures.

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Me:  Way to not be creepy. Humbert. 
Thirteen:  He cccooould make sure she doesn’t have any bad impressions of him? In a good, dadly way?
Thirteen: Or he’s a creeper which is the correct answer. 
Humbert: Does your mom ever mention *blushes prettily and looks away* how big my dick is? 

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Me:  WOAAAH. BURN. 
Thirteen:  I mean she’s not wrong, as long as Brad doesn’t fuck kids. Especially his kids. 
Me: Yeah Humbert did set the bar pretty low.

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Me:  *SLAMS MOUSE DOWN HARD ON SHE’S RIGHT*  
Thirteen:  YES GOOD.
Thirteen:  HUMBERT YOU DIDN’T EVEN CALL YOUR DAUGHTER AND KEEP STARING AT HER TITS YOU’RE ACTUALLY THE WORST!

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Thirteen:  Also she probably freaked out when you named your daughter Lolita
Thirteen: Just saying.
Me:  YEAH HUMBERT. THINK OF OTHER PEOPLE FOR A CHANGE.

Humbert: *teary eyed* but I’ve changed and I can be a better father! You’ll see, LOLITA! 

Me: Presumably once he has his dick in you. 
Thirteen: That’s how you dad, right? 
Thirteen: fuck up your relationship with your wife, get divorced, make it better by fucking your daughter who reminds you of her?
Me:  Stick your dick in it, it’s diddly dang daddy done.

Lolita foolishly believes his claims. Humbert calls this a date again. Lolita is not at all freaked out by this. And we have 4 green points suddenly. 

Thirteen:  Of course she’s not freaked out.
Thirteen:  This is clearly her goal.

Now they’re watching a fucking movie. 

Thirteen:  How many sex scenes does it have?
Thirteen: Is it literally a FUCKING movie?

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Me:  I don’t know. We apparently get to choose. 
Thirteen:  Uuuuuhhhhh comedy seems safest?
Thirteen: And man she has creepy teeth. 
Me:  BETTER TO EAT DICK WITH, MY DEAR.

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Me:  She looks like she’s seen something she can’t unsee. 
Me:  Is this where the optional beastiality comes in?
Me: The comedy movie?
Me: Have we opened a whole can of worms now? 
Thirteen: Oh, so it’s worms, then
Thirteen: Not a dog after all 
Me: Ba dum tiss.
Thirteen:  We’re funny.
Thirteen: To someone. Somewhere. Maybe. 
Me: kuresoto​ likes us. 

Me: OH FUCK HOLY HELL.
Thirteen: SHIT. WHAT?
Me: I WENT TO SAVE MY GAME AND OVERWRITE THE OLD SAVE AND THIS HAPPENED. 

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Thirteen:  -SCREECH-
Thirteen: ALSO HER ANATOMY IS FUCKED AS HELL.
Me:  DON’T LOOK DIRECTLY AT IT OR YOU’LL GO INSANE 
Thirteen:  DON’T WORRY MY FIRST REACTION WAS TO SHIELD MY EYES.

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Me:  OH LOOK SOMETHING WAS FUNNY AHAHAHA HA…HAHAH…. 
Thirteen:  THAT SHIT WAS NOT HILARIOUS YOU SMUG LITTLE FUCK
Thirteen: IT WAS VILE
Thirteen: VILE

Lolita goes in about French for like nine clicks. Humbert is glad she liked the movie. I’m just glad I’m not looking at a deformed naked sim. Now we’re gonna do something else. We have six green points now for some reason.

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Me:  The only thing we haven’t done it gone to another room. 
Thirteen:  Ugh how do we make this gross harlot dislike us
Thirteen: Welp 
Thirteen: One choice left I suppose 
Humbert: Bye bitch. Gonna go take a dump. Entertain yourself for a few hours.
Thirteen: LMAO 
Thirteen: Gods, I hope so.

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Me: THIS IS NOT WHAT I WANTED AT ALL. 
Thirteen: NO IT DOES NOT NEED TO BE A GROUP EVENT 
Thirteen: I THINK WE NEED SOME SPACE
Thirteen: IT’S NOT ME IT’S YOU (AND YOUR DISGUSTING PROCLIVITIES) 
Me:  GO TAKE A DUMP, HUMBERT. 
Thirteen:  ALONE. UNTIL SHE LEAVES.

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Me: GO TO THE BATHROOM, HUMBERT. 
Thirteen: OH GODS ALL OF THESE OPTIONS ARE TERRIFYING.
Me: KITCHEN HAS KNIVES SO WE CAN KILL HIM. 
Thirteen: I WAS GOING TO SUGGEST THAT (it seems least terrifying)

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Me: *WIDE EYES AND ACTUAL IRL SCREAMING* PEDO SENSES TINGLING.
Thirteen: JESUS YOU VILE CREATURE STOP STICKING YOUR TITS OUT CONSTANTLY
Thirteen: I AM CONCERNED FOR YOUR SPINE 
Me:  UNSTUFF YOUR BRA AND PUT THOSE CHICKEN CUTLETS BACK IN THE BEDSIDE DRAWER WHERE THEY BELONG.

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Me: *screams in rage*
Thirteen:  for cock

Now instead of cooking they’re apparently going to go get something to eat which seems much safer. Oh wait. 

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Thirteen: Jesus. Pizza? Maybe our utter awkwardness at 1) not asking if she was hungry earlier, or before dragging her into the kitchen combined with 2) specifically moving to the kitchen to order pizza will turn her off.
Thirteen: Plus, maybe she’s allergic to pizza. 
Me:  We are in accordance.

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Lolita: SO YOU DO KNOW HOW TO USE A PHONE. I KNEW YOU NEVER LOVED ME. 
Thirteen:  IT’S TRUE CHILD WE HATE YOU TIME TO LEAVE.

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Me:  WHY IS THIS EVEN AN OPTION 
Me:  AND WHY ARE YOU CALLING THE DELIVERY GUY DIRECTLY 
Thirteen: Obviously that’s how pizza works
Thirteen: there’s no places that make it 
Thirteen: just fleets of delivery guys who produce it magically, pulling it from somewhere unknown 
Thirteen:  some have suggested: their asses

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Me: WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME?
Thirteen: Great camera work. On the other hand, the vile she-demon is mostly off-screen with her creepy, soulless smile. But then again, she appears to be looking at Humbert’s crotch.

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Me: None of this is even relevant idgaf. 
Thirteen: White Wall Simulator: The Game! 
Me: Dude I’m pretty sure even that would be more entertaining than this. We could like, paint it white again. Watch the paint dry. In real time. For ten hours. 
Thirteen: Diligently watch to make sure nothing mars its perfect whiteness.
Me: And not bone down on our obviously not 18-year-old daughter. 
Thirteen: The most important part of it, one could argue

The delivery guy comes. They’re at a table. Dildos in the background on a desk next to a shitty laptop. 

Thirteen:  Oh we moved to the dildo room, that’s good something…
Thirteen: Runaway just came on my media player and I am Uncomfortable.

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Me: AND THIS IS AN OPTION. AGAIN HUMBERT, WHAT THE FUCK ELSE WERE YOU GOING TO DO? 
Thirteen: Is her shirt fucking glued to her ribcage or something?
Me: Yes.
Thirteen: *in background, disgusted*  (oooooh, she’s a little runaway / daddy’s girl learned fast, all those things he couldn’t say)

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Me: *THROWS COMPUTER OUT WINDOW*
Thirteen: We return to White Wall Simulator: The Game, already in progress.
Me: THAT IS OBVIOUSLY A DOOR, HUMBERT. 
Thirteen: He gets confused.

It was obviously the delivery guy. Humbert still cocks the entire thing up and it’s like 15 more clicks before he even takes his head out of his ass long enough to open the fucking door. 

Thirteen:  At this rate I’m surprised he managed to find the right hole on his wife. So the good news is he’s just making it easier for us to try and prevent this atrocity from happening.

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Me: OH LOOK. PLANET OF THE APES. 
Thirteen: LOL
Thirteen: That is totally some dude with a frozen pizza
Thirteen: The “delivery guy” is just his neighbor isn’t he?
Thirteen: And he’s tired of trying to convince Humbert he doesn’t even WORK in a pizza place
Thirteen: So he just brings a frozen pizza over.
Me: Sorry Paolo, you look vaguely Italian and vaguely ape-like so you obviously deliver pizza. 
Thirteen:  I just noticed that box says “Italian style” and I am just laughing my ass off over here.

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Me: This is STILL going on 
Thirteen: Also that’s a great way to hold a pizza if you want all the toppings ooze into one corner
Thirteen: Furthering my theory that it’s frozen.

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Me: WHY ARE YOU INVITING HIM IN, HUMBERT? JUST TAKE THE FUCKING PIZZA. 
Thirteen:  What the fuck???
Thirteen: Are you going to pay him with Lolita?? 
Humbert: EY YO LO. I AIN’T GOT NO CASHOLA ON ME SO I NEED YOU TO GIVE PAOLO HERE A BLOWIE. 
Thirteen: Thanks, now I’m trying not to wake the house up with my hyena shrieking 
Me: You’re welcome.

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Paolo: That is is completely un-fucking-orthodox of you to invite me into your fucking apartment. Also I’m your neighbor and this pizza is frozen. 
Paolo: Also, what’s with the jailbait hooker? 
Paolo: Also nice stilts, sir. 
Thirteen: Seriously this camera is fucked.

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Me: *SLIDES OUT OF CHAIR ONTO FLOOR* *RUBS DIRT INTO EYES* *SCREAMS FOR DEATH TO COME AT ME BRO*
Paolo: …you know, for jailbait. I am calling the cops the second I get out of this pedo den. 

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Me: Paolo’s face is really unsettling. 
Thirteen: Such is his fate, being in this…thing.

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Me: OH STARS IT GOT WORSE.
Thirteen: Paolo your face is…doing…something terrible. I think your eyebrows might be trying to escape. 
Me: I love how we just silently agreed to call him Paolo. 
Thirteen:  Well it was that or we call him “delivery guy” which 1) is too long and 2) he isn’t anyway.

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Me: AUGH PAOLO STOP BEING GROSS AND TERRIBLE AND LEAVE. WHY ARE YOU EVEN HERE?
Thirteen: Because Humbert invited him in to perv over Lolita, obviously.
Me: So he can swoop in and save her and do a fatherly fakeout by shoving his dick down her throat in place of Paolo’s Italian Sausage. 
Thirteen: Jesus, probably. 
Thirteen: You’re really dodging a bullet, Paolo. She likes dads. Namely, her own. Also, dogs, probably.

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Me: Gettin a little defensive there Humbert. 
Thirteen: He thought twice about the blowjob payment. 
Thirteen: Seriously though how tall is this cockwaffle? 
Thirteen: Or is he just surrounded by the shortest people he could find.

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Me: f u c k i n g  w h y 
Thirteen: Seriously man don’t do it, bitch is  n a s t y 
Me: DON’T STICK YOUR REAL ITALIAN SAUSAGE IN CRAZY, PAOLO.

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Me: DUDE. JUST DON’T INVITE YOUR WEIRD PIZZA DELIVERY GUYS INSIDE. 
Thirteen: Even if they ARE your neighbors just giving you a frozen pizza to shut you up.

Lolita seems to think he was a nice guy. Humbert gets all pissy about it. Calls Paolo a douche. 

“Those are the worst type honey. They have no respect for Women.” Blah blah blah. 

She’s so ~naive~. 

PROBABLY BECAUSE SHE’S TWELVE. AND NOT REALLY 18 AT ALL. 

Are you sure she wasn’t 2 when you last saw her, Humbert? Hm????

Thirteen: It would better explain why he didn’t recognize her at all. 
Thirteen: And like she’s not used to that bullshit with THOSE ta-tas. Well, except they’re fake.

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Me: * soul slowly slips from body*
Thirteen: eeeaaauuuggh never mind come back Paolo.

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Me: PLEASE STOP TALKING.
Thirteen: I wish you would both explode you disgusting creatures.

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Me: WHAT DO YOU MEAN. “I WAS GOOD, WASN’T IT?” WHAT DID YOU DO, HUMBERT? 
Thirteen: -SCREECH- I’M GLAD WE MISSED IT.

Apparently there’s still more shit to do even after all this fucking time. 

*Break for working adults to go to sleep*

To be continued…

Video Game Mockaries: Dating My Daughter – Part 2

Hello again, everyone. I’ve returned from my venture out into the world and have devoured my rose petal ice cream only to return to this immediately when I come home. With 13 as my co-pilot and kuresoto, our number one fan. 

Me: *clears throat and cracks knuckles* let’s McFucking do this. 
Thirteen: I would say I am mentally prepared but I am not.
Thirteen: Bring it on.

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Me:  I love how “Father-daughter” is in quotations 
Thirteen:  I’ll just assume Humbert is already perving over her.

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Me:  UM. I’M NOT READY FOR THIS. 
Thirteen:  “Don’t act like a perv” IS NOT ADVICE THAT SHOULD EVER BE NECESSARY FOR THIS SCENARIO.
Me:  I DON’T EVEN WANT TO KNOW WHAT THIS IS GOING TO BE LIKE. I’M TOO AFRAID TO “CLICK ANYWHERE TO CONTINUE” 
Thirteen:  Jesus, same. And I’m not even fucking playing it. 
Me: *CLOSES EYES AND CLICKS SOMEWHERE ON THE SCREEN*

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Me:  I stared at this for like…three minutes.
Me: What is that?
Me: are those hands? 
Thirteen: I think we’re looking at a POV looking down at his hands in his lap
Thirteen: And apparently he’s wearing skinny jeans.
Thirteen: Or has very hairy legs. 
Me:  Wait…is his leg bent? 
Thirteen:  Yes, I think. One foot tucked behind his ankle. 
Me: A++ art.

Okay so he just keeps going on and on about being nervous this part is boring as fuck.

Then this motherfucker has this long internal monologue about how there’s no reason to be nervous, bringing us here:

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Me:  WHAT DOES THAT MEAN, HUMBERT? 
Thirteen:  I like how he’s hoverhanding his own hands
Thirteen: Even he doesn’t want to touch himself.

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Me:  You’d think he would have asked for like a picture or something? This is his fucking…daughter. 
Thirteen:  Yeah I mean you’d think they’d exchange that shit when she first made contact. 
Thirteen:  But I guess we can’t have the gross “surprise” of his boner popping up because she’s ~so hot~. 
Me:  AUGH. Of COURSE THAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN. 
Thirteen:  What else did you expect? 
Me:  For me to never ever be playing a “game” like this. 
Thirteen:  Well, yes.

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Me: Yeah, you’d like that. Wouldn’t you, Humbert?
Thirteen:  I hate myself for immediately thinking “~and bad girls need to be punished!~” 
Me:  I think we need to consider getting you professional help for your apparent internet addiction. 
Thirteen:  No I’m just a terrible person.

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Me:  Has…has he been saying all of this out loud? 
Thirteen:  Pfft hahahaahah 
Thirteen:  Apparently so.
Me:  I’m just imagining some old lady sitting next to him and clutching her purse tighter next to her. 
Thirteen:  Dude, same, old lady. Same.

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Me:  I wish he’d stop calling it that. At this point he’s still talking out loud and the old lady is getting her ass up to leave. 
Thirteen:  I wouldn’t even mind the “date” thing except I know it’s inevitably leading up to its disgusting, sticky conclusion. 
Me:  With optional bestiality.
Thirteen:  Oh yes
Thirteen: Of course
Thirteen: Can’t forget that shit
Thirteen: No matter how hard I try.

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Me:  THIS MOTHERFUCKER IS STILL AT HOME? WHAT THE FUCK. 
Thirteen:  Admiring his dildo pile 
Me:  This whole time I thought he was waiting at the airport or some shit. No he’s just staring at his giant pile of dildos. 
Me:  And ominous shadow in his TV. 
Thirteen:  Perhaps it’s a Shadowman come to claim him. But unlikely. Even they want nothing to do with this. 
Me:  They’re probably drawing straws to get to see who had to drag his ass down to hell.

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Me: door. bells.
Thirteen:  It Begins.

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Me:  It did this weird shaky animation and I was like what is happening.
Thirteen:  When did we move from dildo room to the kitchen 
Me:  After the earthquake. 
Thirteen:  And man that is one obnoxious-looking kitchen 
Thirteen:  I’d hate to try and navigate it during Thanksgiving or some shit.
Me:  I mean he does live alone. Not even his only daughter wanted to see him on holidays. So I assume he spends thanksgiving like looking at daddy daughter porn or some shit. 
Thirteen:  And eating week-old KFC.
Me:  Because grease makes great lube. 
Thirteen:  Plus who can get enough of the erotic scent of fried chicken?

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Me:  I wanna punch him in the face. 
Thirteen:  Lazy, perhaps. Disgusting, yes. An ass, absolutely.

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Me:  Ah yes. Door bells. This is obviously how it’s said. 
Thirteen:  Onomatopoeias are myths invented by the liberals. 
Me: Let her in, man. 
Thirteen:  Or don’t!
Thirteen: And save everyone!

Then Humbert is useless and it takes him like 900 more years to open the door. He keeps having dumb conversations with himself about how he hopes his daughter likes his house or some other dumb shit like how nervous he is. 

Thirteen:  Unfortunately, she did not just walk off. 

And then: 

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Me:  Woe I must venture through the valley of the shadow of incest in order to let in this man’s daughter. 
Thirteen:  Godspeed, you crazy motherfucker.

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Me:  OH MY GOD HUMBERT IS THERE A WORLD IN WHICH YOU’RE NOT USELESS. 
Thirteen:  Probably the same one where he isn’t disgusting.
Thirteen: So
Thirteen: no 
Me:  LOCAL MAN CONTINUES TO MONOLOGUE INSTEAD OF LETTING HIS DAUGHTER INTO HIS HOUSE AND SHE GETS KIDNAPPED BY LOCAL HOOLIGANS. THE END. 
Thirteen:  STRANGELY, IT TURNS OUT BETTER FOR HER.

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Me:  THIS GIRL IS TWELVE.
Thirteen:  The Lolita theme fits then! 
Thirteen:  Oh but, ~she’s 18~! Totally legal! 
Thirteen:  Jesus that face is creepy and chipmunky. 
Me:  Plus her body looks all sorts of deformed. Also where is her luggage?
Thirteen:  what do you think her “boobs” are?
Me: WELP. FULL SPEED AHEAD, I GUESS. 

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Me:  noooooo you’re not. 
Thirteen:  I wanted to say “I bet you are, Lolita” but since we actually named them that it’s not even a joke.
Me:  Nothing is funny and everything hurts. 
Thirteen:  And just think, we choose this. And by “we” I mean “you”. 
Me:  Well. You didn’t even try to stop me so. 
Thirteen:  Okay fair
Thirteen: But still
Thirteen: Like you would have listened.
Me:  I wouldn’t have. You’re right. 
Thirteen:  …also, does this look like a hotel to you? Because it does to me. 
Me:  Yes, it does look like a creepy pedo hotel. 
Thirteen:  Man, she probably caught the eye of every one of his pedo neighbors.
Me:   Quick, Humbert! Piss on her! Claim your property 
Thirteen:  Is that on the fetish list? 
Me:  I just thought “Unfortunately no” and idk what that says about me as a person. 
Thirteen:  Well, it would be better than the bestiality. Mildly. 

So they awkwardly converse in the hallway for a while. She introduces herself as his daughter. Blah blah blah more bullshit about “Wow look at how much you’ve grown”. I’m sorry for being so rude blah blah blah. 

To be continued…

Video Game Mockaries: Dating My Daughter

NSFW Warning

And as always, with 13 as my captive audience, over 2000 miles away, we discovered something rather troubling. It was a game, of sorts, more like a dating sim. Where you date uh…your *ahem* …biological daughter whom you haven’t seen in several years following your divorce from her mother. 

Wonder why you got divorced dude. 

After much deliberation wherein Thirteen and I discuss my very sanity and the depth of my self-hatred, my curiosity got the better of me and I downloaded the game. 

And so it begins, with a loading screen. 

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Thirteen: Oh good. 
Thirteen: Well. At least it’s honest about the terrible, terrible thing it is from the beginning. 
Santiago: (my partner, off in the wings) Why is there a butt?
Me: Don’t ask. You really, really don’t want to know. 

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Me: What do we name him?
Thirteen:  I feel like it needs to be something appropriately horrid yet hilarious to fit out avat–Humbert? 
Me: Yes. 
Thirteen: Amazing. And terrifying. 

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Me: We must name the girl.
Thirteen:  Welp I mean the obvious answer is Lolita to match.
Me: Of course, but Delores or Lolita?
Thirteen:  Lolita. Dolores is a touch more subtle but I don’t see a reason to waste subtlety on this shit.

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Me: WE’RE ONE PAGE IN AND I’M ALREADY CHOKING HALF TO DEATH.
Thirteen:  Spoiler Alert: it was to avoid you, you disgusting subhuman filth! 
Me:  Also there’s no sound so this is fucking eerie as fuck. 
Thirteen:  Ew. 
Thirteen: Well.It was going to be super creepy anyway.
Me:  at least I can play it without headphones.

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Me:  These ellipses sure are ominous 
Thirteen:  I would say “only because we know where this is going” but no 
Thirteen:  They pretty much are regardless.
Thirteen:  And you know. I just KNOW every time people make sure to point out a character is 18 that that means they actually aren’t. 
Thirteen:  So. Yeah. :I

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Me:  Um. Someone is a little too excited. 
Thirteen:  o___o 
Thirteen:  This is really bad coming off Dream Daddy because I’m trying to squish down residual “awww” feelings because I know this is going to be terrible. 
Me:  I keep thinking about Dream Daddy too. It can’t save us now. 
Thirteen:  On one hand I need Golden Child and her totally-sweet-and-non-creepy dad to make things better, on the other I want them FOREVER AWAY FROM THIS.

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Thirteen: Is that a pile of weird dildos and/or other sex toys at the left
Me:  He’s only getting ready to entertain his daughter. 
Thirteen:  There’s totally at least two dicks in there.
Thirteen: Oh well of course
Thirteen:  Why didn’t I think of that

*DES IS GETTING ICE CREAM BREAK*

Flash Fiction: Chilly Weather, Bloody Sweater

SPOILERS FOR MARJORIE DIAZ BOOK ONE

You’ve been WARNED.

It was just starting to get cold, long sweaters and pumpkin spice lattes making their annual resurgence.

Marjorie Diaz walked down a crowded street in New York, slipping past several people and some friendly (mostly unfriendly) ghosts. It had taken some getting used to, living on this side of whatever insane magical veil the supernatural creatures of old had erected over the natural world. Especially considering her ex-boyfriend’s family basically ran the place.

The Watkins were supernatural royalty. Had been for generations. Something Lucian had neglected to tell her when she mentioned him a billion times in their late night half-asleep gush sessions. Now she’d pissed off an entire family of bloodthirsty vampires or whatever supernatural being this part of the Watkins family was. Probably vampires.

Though Patrick had seemed so normal. Then again, so had Lucian. And her entire family. Yet they had all been necromancers. For their whole lives. For as long as she’d known them. It was so strange to think about. The key Lucian had given her had unlocked so many things she hadn’t been able to see before.

Still, some part of her thought she should have known.

She was meeting Lucian downtown for Dim Sum. It had been awhile since they’d spent any time together. Lucian had moved back home after school to “complete her training” and Marjorie had moved to some dump in Brooklyn with a bunch of roommates. She didn’t mind them much, they were mostly nocturnal (werewolves).

She settled into a booth in the back of the restaurant and looked over the menu. She already knew what she wanted, but Lucian was late as always. She checked her phone just as Lucian settled down across from her.

Marjorie glanced up to greet her, but the words died in her throat. Lucian’s sweater was covered in blood. She nervously glanced around the shop, wondering if anyone else noticed.

“What?” Lucian asked, glancing up from her menu.

“Um,” Marjorie motioned to her sweater, eyes wide.

Lucian glanced down. “Oh,” she said, “I keep forgetting I gave you that key.”

Marjorie’s eyes nearly bugged completely out of her head. “How often do you do this?”

Lucian glanced at her sheepishly. “I’m literally always running late, sometimes I forget to change. It’s only chicken blood.”

“Still,” Marjorie said.

Lucian rolled her eyes. “Don’t make me regret granting you entrance to the ‘magical realm’.”