Damien’s Easter Surprise!

Neckbeard, communal narcadoodle and Area 51 test subject Damien Ulysses Hurlbutt is busy dreaming up ways to escape his captors from his Dreamland cell.

“Hey Damien, we have an Easter surprise for you!” the guard says to the imprisoned moron who tried to storm the underground Nevada laboratory, thinking he could get away with it.

“Oh boy, oh boy! What is it?” the creepy fool asks, devilish grin spreading across his face and day-glow orange beard. Visions of over-the-top baskets fill his head, not unlike the ones with which he used to love-bomb his targets of potential narcissistic supply.

”If we told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise!”

Damien, filled with glee to be free from his cell and daily flatulence testing at the Alternative Fuel Source Department somewhere deep inside the dry lake-bed known as Groom, the world’s largest source of natural gas is led down the hall. He and the guards make their way past the cafeteria, alien deejays and party at the discotheque.

Hoping to hear some Starland Vocal Band over the intercom, Damien wonders what the staff will give him, to make his afternoon delicious.

Much to the delight of the staff, and the dismay of the nincompoop Damien, the orange neckheard gets hauled into a tiny room and strapped to a table for experimentation ordered by Division Chief Dr. Jen Jenner. A tattoo artist emerges, and begins to carve egg-shaped designs into the narc-a-doodle’s bum for a research project carried out by the Pain Tolerance Department.

HAPPY KIESTER! (OK, you can have that one for free).

Violated.

Part 1: https://moronicarts.com/2024/11/24/get-lost-sonya/

“Hey Sonya, we’re having you for supper! Come with us!” Area 51 Prinicpal Instigator and Pain Tolerance Department Manager Dr. Jen Jenner tells the shapeshifting humanoid turkey vulture and malignant narcadoodle Sonya Marie Smith Moran, who has been pecking back and forth with her cellmate, narc of the communal kind Damien Ulysses Hurlbutt.

“Hot Dawg!”

“No wieners or winners, just you for supper. Sonya, your hair is a rat’s nest. Violation! Clean your cage, there are bird turds everywhere, even in your water dish! Violation!”

“What? MY cage? YOU put me here!”


“Yes, this is your home now and you’re coming with us!”

“Knock it off!” Sonya says to the raptor-captors at Area 51.

“We can smell your bum-waste clear cross the High Desert. Violation! You freeloaders trash this place that your tax dollars pay for! Violation! Cha-cha-cha. Violation! Cha-cha-cha.” the guards scold the Midwestern scumlord and malignant narcissist as they read from the Code of Federal Regulations.

Sonya hisses at the guards surrounding Dr. Jenner, flaps her wings, taking a defensive stand.

“Violation! Haha. Alright, imma carve this turkey!”

The guards rush toward Ms. Moran, with chainsaw in tow, and yank the caged lady from her cell.

“Oh yum. I can’t wait for turkey dinner. I’ve had nothing but corn and corn-derivatives since I got here two years ago,” says her cellmate and fellow narcadoodle Damien Ulysses Hurlbutt, as he rubs his hands together. “Oh boy, oh boy, oh b–“
“I’m a dang vulture, not a turkey, you stupid neckbeard!” Sonya screams as she gets hauled away to a deep, dark crevice hidden within the bowels of the dry lake known as Groom.

TO BE CONTINUED