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Tell Me Your Most Brutal Story
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2019-12-18 at 5:18 AM UTC
Originally posted by ORACLE 1998 a buddy and I were blazing up I-25 in New Mexico trying to make it to Denver from ABQ before sunset in his beat up ass '85 Cherokee.
Somewhere a little north of Santa Fe, about 4:30 we passed a little ride-in with 4 gas pumps, a Pizza Hut and what seemed like a mile of abandoned tractor trailers in the back that raised questions nobody wanted to investigate.
We pulled in to buy drinks and top up before gunning for Denver as hard as we could without stopping. As we rolled around to park beside the building. My buddy gets out to go inside and pay for stuff, I decide to take the opportunity to stretch my legs. I wandered towards the back and heard voices. A Firebird, driver side door open, was parked angled away from me. A woman and a man.
I peered around the corner. I didn't want to get involved, it just sounded like a domestic and it was none of my business. The voices got louder and more frantic, so I looked again.
I heard the distinctive sound of flesh on flesh, followed by a short silence. Then a low and distant whining ensued. The passenger door opened, and I got back and started to walk away. Lover's quarrel. I wanted no part, I didn't want to risk being seen. I went inside the building to see what my friend was up to, apparently he had gone to use the bathroom. I decided to take care of the drink picked out some juices, cokes, water bottles etc. My friend comes out, finishes paying up and we both get back to the car. As we pull around, he doesn't even notice, but I do: across the back seat, I saw the guys head, and the top of her head. As we drove past, I heard muffled screams, barely audible. We drove away. I didn't say anything. I had to get to Denver.
Oh snap bro u gotta call the cops -
2019-12-18 at 5:20 AM UTC
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2019-12-18 at 5:38 AM UTCi ate out this chick's chaunch that shit smelled and tasted like battery acid.
i was coked out so i continued on -
2019-12-18 at 6:16 AM UTC
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2019-12-18 at 6:52 AM UTC
Originally posted by CASPER Oh snap bro u gotta call the cops
With what, my car phone? Calling the cops = stopping around the front, asking to use the phone while a rape or strangulation or some shit was happening in the back and then, what, helping stop it? Getting shot up by a psycho? Nah. I got my drinks. Sometimes 1998 be like that. -
2019-12-18 at 10:35 PM UTCMan that Cherokee didn't even have air conditioning. In New Mexico. We drove with the rear windows cracked all the way. Thank jesus for ice cold coca cola.