What do you get when you take a math professor who is curious about romance, the crahkalicious Black Dagger Brotherhood, and the internet?
Why, DocTurtle’s Black Dagger Brotherhood Madlibs of course.
Thanks to DocTurtle, we have so much fun, we might end up crashing the UNC Ashville server. Oh, it’s just a beautiful thing. Enjoy!
Of course I did one!
Wrath opened the door to the sound of ska. Tohr and Rhage were listening to Mozart again. ‘What is this cuntweasel?’ Wrath demanded.
‘Rock On, my brother, it’s just Mozart’s new album, Furry Corpustle.’
Just then Fritz came in. With a tray laden with slick Kleenex towels.
‘Shite, Fritz!’ cried Rhage. ‘These are fucking smelly!’
Vishous came in, dagger drawn. ‘The lessers are back. I caught Mr. X crapping a civilian vampire. With a rake.’
‘Time to eat. Angrily.’ said Wrath.
‘Whatever,’ said Rhage. ‘I don’t care as long as I get to bang some soft tv remotes.’
And here’s Candy’s:
Wrath opened the door to the sound of Tuvan throat singing. Tohr and Rhage were listening to Neil Diamond again. ‘What is this motherfucking shit?’ Wrath demanded.
‘It’s totally groovy, my brother, it’s just Neil Diamond’s new album, Stubby Erection.’
Just then Fritz came in. With a tray laden with eldritch Lucky Strike rice noodles.
‘Poop-slinger, Fritz!’ cried Rhage. ‘These are fucking turgid!’
Vishous came in, dagger drawn. ‘The lessers are back. I caught Mr. X cockmongering a civilian vampire. With a nubbin.’
‘Time to pulse. Mournfully.’ said Wrath.
‘Whatever,’ said Rhage. ‘I don’t care as long as I get to flub some putrid poodle skirts.’
I cheated a teeny weeny bit!
Wrath opened the door to the sound of jazz. Tohr and Rhage were listening to Ray Charles again. ‘What is this bumfuck?’ Wrath demanded.
‘Groovy, my brother, it’s just Ray Charles’s new album, Slutty Lovejuice.’
Just then Fritz came in. With a tray laden with generous Louis Vitton muffins.
‘Motherfucker, Fritz!’ cried Rhage. ‘These are fucking juicy!’
Vishous came in, dagger drawn. ‘The lessers are back. I caught Mr. X smacking a civilian vampire. With a buttcheek.’
‘Time to jiggle. Sexily.’ said Wrath.
‘Whatever,’ said Rhage. ‘I don’t care as long as I get to squeeze some shapely dildos.’
Wrath opened the door to the sound of classical. Tohr and Rhage were listening to The Foo Fighters again. ‘What is this ass?’ Wrath demanded.
‘Rocking, my brother, it’s just The Foo Fighters’s new album, Etched Desk.’
Just then Fritz came in. With a tray laden with square Kelloggs hockey sticks.
‘Bitch, Fritz!’ cried Rhage. ‘These are fucking green!’
Vishous came in, dagger drawn. ‘The lessers are back. I caught Mr. X sniffing a civilian vampire. With a lily.’
‘Time to defenestrate. Quickly.’ said Wrath.
‘Whatever,’ said Rhage. ‘I don’t care as long as I get to chat with some plush frying pans.’
Wrath opened the door to the sound of polka. Tohr and Rhage were listening to Shania Twain again. ‘What is this suckamuthafucka?’ Wrath demanded.
‘Da Bomb, my brother, it’s just Shania Twain’s new album, Fuzzeh Tinkle.’
Just then Fritz came in. With a tray laden with smelly Applebottom buttresses.
‘Cockhole, Fritz!’ cried Rhage. ‘These are fucking peckish!’
Vishous came in, dagger drawn. ‘The lessers are back. I caught Mr. X slapping a civilian vampire. With a toenail.’
‘Time to blow. Prettily.’ said Wrath.
‘Whatever,’ said Rhage. ‘I don’t care as long as I get to spank some spikey sabre-toothed moose lions.’
I don’t know how I missed this last week…
Wrath opened the door to the sound of bluegrass. Tohr and Rhage were listening to Milli Vanilli again. ‘What is this snarlyfart?’ Wrath demanded.
‘Word, my brother, it’s just Milli Vanilli’s new album, Overwrought Castle.’
Just then Fritz came in. With a tray laden with purplish Vicodin cookies.
‘Merde, Fritz!’ cried Rhage. ‘These are fucking high-strung!’
Vishous came in, dagger drawn. ‘The lessers are back. I caught Mr. X tripping a civilian vampire. With a tree.’
‘Time to orgasm. Feverishly.’ said Wrath.
‘Whatever,’ said Rhage. ‘I don’t care as long as I get to impart some mud-slick scythes.’
Wrath opened the door to the sound of showtunes. Tohr and Rhage were listening to Madonna again. ‘What is this shit?’ Wrath demanded.
‘Talk to the hand, my brother, it’s just Madonna’s new album, Hairy Door.’
Just then Fritz came in. With a tray laden with tall Apple people.
‘Fuck, Fritz!’ cried Rhage. ‘These are fucking shiny!’
Vishous came in, dagger drawn. ‘The lessers are back. I caught Mr. X calling a civilian vampire. With a monster.’
‘Time to read. Quickly.’ said Wrath.
‘Whatever,’ said Rhage. ‘I don’t care as long as I get took some large bats.’
Oh God, I literally laughed until it hurt, until I cried, until I woke up my son… UPSTAIRS… dear Lord, whatever age it is when MadLibs stop being fucking hilarious, I want to die the day before I hit it. The ones that made me laugh the hardest? All of Cat Marsters’ one—the vhampires speaking in such posh tones, HAHAHA—whichever one said, “Suck it, Fritz!”, and when Wrath says, “Time to blow. Sporadically.” *dies laughing again*
Okay, well, better late than never, right? Here’s mine, only a month or so overdue… I have to admit, I love the last line…
Wrath opened the door to the sound of muzak. Tohr and Rhage were listening to Disturbed again. ‘What is this fuckityfrickinfrack?’ Wrath demanded.
‘Hammer, don’t hurt ‘em!, my brother, it’s just Disturbed’s new album, Tingling Pickle.’
Just then Fritz came in. With a tray laden with infected Adidas handcuffs.
‘Assclown, Fritz!’ cried Rhage. ‘These are fucking magically delicious!’
Vishous came in, dagger drawn. ‘The lessers are back. I caught Mr. X serenading a civilian vampire. With a great white shark.’
‘Time to freak. Swimmingly.’ said Wrath.
‘Whatever,’ said Rhage. ‘I don’t care as long as I get to ejaculate some holy alien robots.’