Da Russian Chill Experimenizzle: Difference between revisions

 

After nine minutes tha straight-up original gangsta of dem started screamin yo. Dude ran tha length of tha chamber repeatedly yellin all up in tha top of his fuckin lungs fo' 3 minutes straight, his schmoooove ass continued attemptin ta scream but was only able ta produce occasionizzle squeaks. Da researchers postulated dat dat schmoooove muthafucka had physically torn his vocal cords. Da most surprisin thang bout dis behavior is how tha fuck tha other captives reacted ta dat shit... or rather didn't react ta dat shit. They continued whisperin ta tha microphones until tha second of tha captives started ta scream. Da 2 non-screamin captives took tha books apart, smeared page afta page wit they own feces n' pasted dem calmly over tha glass portholes. Da beatboxin promptly stopped.

Yo, so did tha whisperin ta tha microphones.

 

 

Dude pointed his wild lil' freakadelic glock all up in tha remainin subject, still restrained ta a funky-ass bed as tha remainin thugz of tha medicinal n' research crew fled tha room. "I won't be locked up in here wit these thangs muthafucka! Not wit you, nahmean biiiatch?" da perved-out muthafucka screamed all up in tha playa strapped ta tha table. "WHAT ARE YOU?" da ruffneck demanded. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! "I must know!"

Da subject smiled.

 

 

Da researcher paused. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Then aimed all up in tha subjectz ass n' fired. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! Da EEG flatlined as tha subject weakly choked out, "So... nearly... free..."

[[Category:Satire]]