TQP Ep 20: Not Another Nazi Podcast… Part 1!?


In the interest of preserving a history of talk radio hosts who engage in uncomfortable dialogues with questionable people (Bob Lassiter, William Cooper, and most recently, Roaming Millennial), Maddux wanted to get to the bottom of why some Americans would turn to National Socialism as the answer to America’s problems. And while Bryden Proctor may not be a National Socialist, he does have some things to say about it. Decide for yourself.

She Was Only A Clown Chapter 5

SHE WAS ONLY A CLOWN is a special serialized novella presented in weekly installments every Saturday through Halloween. Click here to read chapter 1, click here to read chapter 2, click here to read chapter 3 and click here to read chapter 4. 


Chapter 5

Gonna be a Nelson party out here tonight, boys!” Carl said as he pulled out his erect, ring-and-barbell adorned cock.

A Nelson party, Elwood reasoned, probably meant gang rape…

Jacob slowly whacked his pud in the clown girl’s face, pausing every once in a while to drop the heavy, sweating thing against her makeuped forehead, smearing the red and white grease paint and giving his dick the appearance of a wounded animal. Carl moved to the side and started to rub his bejeweled cock on the girl’s blue wig. “Real pretty hair you got here, girly. Shame if you got cum all up in it.”

Philip chuckled and centered himself in front of the clown’s breasts. “Big fuckin’ tits. Beggin for a big fuckin’ dick…” He trailed off as he spit onto her chest and squeezed her tits together. He rubbed his saliva in between them and then inserted his erection into the small space that was left.

For her part, even though she was being accosted by three brutish rednecks, the clown girl remained ever still, allowing the disgusting men to do to her as they pleased. Her eyes remained unfocused, as though she were nothing more than a living doll.

Their brother fucking her tits only made Jacob and Carl’s erections that much bigger and thicker and soon the three went silent. Their heavy breathing the only sound out there in the woods.

If Elwood was going to act, it would have to be now. If he waited until the Nelson brothers came, he would die out there in the woods.

Mark was still grinding his hard pecker into Elwood’s back, his attention completely on his brothers.

Elwood knew he couldn’t try to be sly about it this time. If he meant to do harm to Mark Nelson, he’d have to do so quickly, abruptly and savagely.

So why was he so scared?

Mark continued to rhythmically grind his dick into Elwood’s back, almost absentmindedly.

Elwood used this as an opportunity to inch forward, ever so slightly, allowing Mark’s thrusts to push him. In a few more strokes, he’d be close enough to grab hold of the broken sign post…

And then what? He asked himself. It’s not like Elwood was a tough guy. He’d run away from every fight he’d ever been in. Any time one of the ignorant town kids tried to fight him at school, he just walked away, even if that meant getting sucker punched for his trouble. If things got more violent than that, he ran.

So what did he expect would happen if he actually got ahold of the pointed stick in front of him? Mark was just as likely to yank it out of his hand and stab him with it as he was using it to defend himself long enough to get away.

His thoughts were cut short as the Nelson boys upped the ante in front of him.

Heffer got a rump on her, too!” Jacob said, reaching back and squeezing the clown girl’s bare buttocks.

This act seemed to incite the others as Carl laughed and grabbed the diminutive girl by her cheeks, yanking her face, turning her head to his side, forcing her lips into a comical, fish-like pose. “Hear that, bitch? My brother thinks you gotta nice ass. Know what that means?”

The burly redneck didn’t give her time to answer, instead forcing his ring adorned cock into her mouth, the jewlrey clanking off of her front teeth as his thick member forced her jaws open wide.

Philip cackled, phlegm catching in the back of his throat. He left it in his mouth as he spoke. “Means my brother done got a hankerin’ to fuck you up the ass, lil missy!”

All three brothers howled with laughter as though sodomy was the funniest thing any of them could imagine.

Ole Elwood found himself a good retard, didn’t he?” Jacob asked as he positioned himself behind the clown girl. “Cunt ass bitch just lets ya do whatever ya want.” Without bothering to lube up his penis with anything more than the girl’s greasepaint from her forehead, he eased his thickness inside her anus. “T’was me where yer at, I wouldn’t let the likes of us ruin her.” Jacob grinned, pushing the limp girl forward to get better positioning to anally rape her. “Cause boy, ain’t gonna be nothin’ left time we’re done!”

With that, the big redneck started to savagely fuck the clown girl from behind. Carl was forced to step to the side, losing his prime spot leaning over her tits. He instead took her by the hand and began to jack himself off with her limp wrist while his brothers simultaneously fucked her ass and mouth.

Hands ain’t no good, man!” He protested after several seconds of jacking himself off with her limp hand. “Ain’t got no grip! I ain’t gonna cum fer shit like this!”

Git in her puss then, idiot!” Jacob scolded, obviously trying to enjoy the butt rape he was inflicting on the helpless girl.

Damn it Jacob, our dicks’s too big for that! We’ll split her in half I jam my pecker up there.”

So? We gonna kill her anyway when we cum. Cares what condition she’s in when we do it?”

Elwood’s blood went cold. He knew the neighbor boys meant to do him harm, but saying it out loud solidified it in his mind. These were his last moments. He was about to die a violent death.

As scared as he was, as much as he knew he did not want to die, he could not help but think, in that moment, that after what had happened to uncle Jeff and his cousin Jake, he probably deserved whatever awful fate the Nelsons had in mind for him.

Carl did as he was told. He dropped down to the ground and slid underneath the clown girl. Pulling her hips over his, he guided her down on top of him. Jacob continued to pound her from behind and Philip, for his part, never lost a stroke inside her mouth. It was as though the three had experience gang raping girls. Lots of experience.

Somehow both enormous dicks fit inside her tiny body. If any internal damage was being done as they rocked her back and forth, sliding her between them like a perverse game of catch, she never let on, remaining just as silent and just as still as ever.

Hey, I gots an idea…” Jacob said between huffs and puffs. “Gimmie that cum jar…”

Philip was currently in possession of the vile thing. He held it absent mindedly in one hand while he held the clown girl’s head in the other, face-fucking her with enough force and vigor that any normal woman would have choked, puked and passed out long before.

He handed spoiled jizz container off to his brother, smirking as he did so, clearly amused at whatever was about to transpire.

Jacob took the jar and sat it on the small of the woman’s back, balancing it on the flat area just before her hips and buttocks curved upward forming her plump ass.

Carefully, Jacob unscrewed the lid and tossed it off to the side. “Spill the jar, you win the prize!”

He and his brothers bust into laughter once again as they railed the poor girl, each thrust threatening to knock over the putrid container.

Aw damn, you better not get none of that jizzm on me god damnit!” Carl yelped from underneath the rape train.

Jacob grew a devilish grin and redoubled his efforts as he cornholed the helpless girl, thrashing his hips wildly.

Carl put a hand up on either side of the jar, trying to keep it from spilling over on top of him. Its contents had already begun to slosh over the sides. The liquidy center oozed out from under a harder film crusted on top like spoiled milk. It splashed down the sides of the jar onto Carl’s hands and the clown girl’s back.

God damn it!” Carl repeated as some of the brackish funk dripped onto his shirt.

Jacob and Philip cackled, thrusting harder and harder as their brother continued to spill rotten cum all over himself.

Carl finally pushed the jar off to one hand, gripped it by the rim and cast it aside, cussing and yelling the whole time. He wiped the thick gunk onto his shirt then yanked it over his head, tossing it aside as well.

Ya’ll are a couple of assholes, you know that? I was finn’a wear that shirt to church tomorrow!”

More laughter erupted from the brothers between grunts and thrusts.

Elwood watched all of this with morbid curiosity, compelled both by the brothers’ immense carnality and their utter disconnect from the awful deed they performed.

Without even realizing it, he had been leaning closer to the sharp-ended sign post. His hand was right in front of it. Without another thought, he gripped it in his hand, turned, and plunged it directly into Mark Nelson’s neck.

***

Be back here next Saturday, October 14th, for chapter 6! 

Jeremy Maddux’s Bizarro Boycott


In this brief monologue, Maddux commits to his first boycott, of Bizarro fiction. He doesn’t care if you are vehemently against it, indifferent to it or even if you support it. This is not to impress anyone. This is to simply say that no more of his money will go to paying the overhead on a company that allows repulsive personalities that whine about an ‘evil white man conspiracy’. Maddux also touches on Lazy Fascist Press shuttering their operation, and Cameron Pierce’s sudden regret to have even given his press that name. Why? Because politics… Just like Maddux and Strange said six months ago. This is no different than football fans telling the NFL they’re no longer willing to fund their antics.

The following is a transcription of Jeremy’s monologue:

Jeremy Maddux here with a heavy heart on this Tuesday, October 3rd. Why do I have a heavy heart? Because I have to say goodbye to a literary genre that has been my passion for the last five years. For newer listeners who don’t know what I’m talking about, it was a genre of fiction called Bizarro. Though there are opposing viewpoints on where these stories came from, it’s pretty much understood that Eraserhead Press popularized it to legions of readers with disenfranchised reading tastes and fans of B-Movies.

I fell so in love with these books that I was motivated to go meet the authors, who are mostly based in Portland, Oregon. I saw a lot of good and a lot of bad in my 2 weeks among that crowd. More or less, I felt like I’d found an extended family. I wanted to believe.

Then, I got home. And I started to see more bad than good. Instead of knocking on every door they possibly could to talk about their books, their wares, their community, all they wanted to talk about was the evil white man, rape scenes in Game of Thrones and how Travis Bickle in Taxi Driver was a sleeper agent for male patriarchy. These mostly white people never missed an opportunity to demonize other white people.

They were quick to signal their acceptance of all other cultures no matter what misogyny or cruelty lurked in said cultures, so long as they weren’t white. Now that I had advanced through this fraternal order, I began to field requests from these authors to ‘keep an eye’ on a problematic author named Kevin Strange due to ‘bad intel’ about his personal life, which I strongly felt was none of my or their business. To this day, none of them have apologized to Strange for prying around in his personal life. These people maintained toxic social media presences far longer than I did.

Then Trump got elected. They lost their minds. They literally became ugly people with base, aimless vitriol. Then the gloves were off. I said ‘fuck these people and their disgustingly permissive attitude towards all things progressive’, even turning on artists, other writers and filmmakers who didn’t share their strictly progressive regimen. They turned on everyone from Steve Martin to Tim Burton to Lloyd Kaufman.

Fast forward a few months… They are openly insulting a man with stage 4 cancer and they come after me for taking exception to this. I’m the bad guy for defending an ill man who is not a physical threat to anyone.

Now, one of their own, Tiffany Scandal, responds to the Las Vegas massacre not with sobering thoughts but it seems she can only muster more hatred for the white male patriarchy. “White men are the worst terrorists this world has ever seen.”

This is someone selling you books, all too glad to sell you books about how oppressed modern women are, oh, but they’re just as capable as men while still being victims, though! All too glad to sell them to white men who hate their own color and gender. How do you not see the insanity in that?

So here it is: My first boycott. I never do these. I think they’re bullshit and the people are usually bluffing. I am not bluffing. All told, I have spent thousands of dollars on Bizarro fiction in the last five years. That comes to an end now. No more New Bizarro Authors Series. No new Carlton Mellick books. No more proofreading for Rose. Sorry, Rose. I won’t even buy my good buddy Kevin Donihe’s books any longer, which is a shame because he’s an actual author not a novelty act like many of the people over there who won’t be writers at all five years from now.

I see all this heinous behavior going on over there that they refuse to even see as heinous. All this lashing out at customers, fans and readers by Jeff Burk over stupid social media disagreements. Hell, he did it in person too! Over what? The color blue, comic books, some stupid Howard the Duck bullshit. I see them trolling people with cancer, organizing their temper tantrum anthologies to bemoan the inauguration of Trump and Tiffany Scandal goes and hammers the final nail in the ol’ Bizarro baby coffin with this verbal detritus about white men being terrorists, nevermind that she’s dating one. She took one of the biggest mass shootings in US history and tried to make it about her.

They think they ‘triggered’ me. They love to use that terminology from early 2016. I am not triggered. I am flat out pissed off. There is no happy ending for Bizarro. I quarantined both of the Tiffany Scandal books that I owned. I don’t burn books but I had to do something, so I tore There is No Happy Ending down the middle to symbolize my official break with everything Bizarro. As for her other book, Jigsaw Youth? I used it as a piss mat.

I mentioned Rose and Carlton earlier, and I want to once again extend my apologies that things turned out this way. But, honest to God, they didn’t leave me much choice. People like Jeff Burk, Garrett Cook, Tiffany Scandal, Nathan Carson, Michael Kazepis. They actively work to alienate people, whether they realize it or not.

Rose and Carlton, all you had to do was step in and squash these antics when they were happening. Are you not the bosses? Do you think they would have respected you less or more if you told these individuals to snap out of it and get back to work? Carlton, I want to draw a comic book analogy and compare you to Black Bolt of the Inhumans. He’s their king, yet he always worked in the shadows and he never spoke, even when pressed to. Then, one day, during a very intense battle, he feels overwhelmed and he screams at the top of his lungs. His voice is so powerful it shakes Heaven and Earth. Be like Black Bolt, Carlton. When are you going to use your voice to set things right? Do you honestly think these people would challenge you if you asserted yourself in a way they’re not used to seeing?

I understand there is something to be said for friendship. But I hope it was worth losing this long time reader who truly, passionately believed in the forces of weird, someone who once dreamed of becoming a contributor to this once mighty press. Now? Well, now quite frankly, most of them are beneath me.