The Cursed Drum Kit

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...Or in all situations, at any time, any place, and by any audience for that matter.

I used to be skeptic about everything...

Until this happened.

My day started off as the usual, me playing my drum kit. Then, out of nowhere, my snare drum broke. I was like "God fucking shit!" I was so furious, that I took a shit in rage. I told my mother, who was fucking some dude in the ass, if I could go to Guitar Center. She hesitated, at first, but she said with a sneer "You have a car! You have a fucking job! Go do it yourself, you failed abortion!" And I was twelve at the time.

So, waking up my drunk father, I asked him to take me to Guitar Center. He said no, and he was hungover from drinking to much. So, I had to take 40 mile walk to guitar center. As I got inside the store, the air blew into my face. I was so relieved that I was there. I went to the drum section, but I fucked around with the other stuff (guitars, basses, keyboards, microphones, the D.J equipment, and the sound area.) I went into the drums and I asked this friendly, but pedophilish, staff.

I asked the cuddly pedobear "Do you have any Pearl Snares?" With every breath he took to mutter out some words, he said "No... sorry... But you can look at the other drum kits, and see if you like those snares!" I was so pissed off, that I kicked the person in the shin. I screamed at him "RIP OFF ARTIST!" And ran out of the store, and into a different Guitar Center.

As I went into another store, which was in the next state. I went into the drum section, yet again. This time, it was a tall, skinny guy. Why, so skinny, that if a girl was fucking him, she would be fucking a skeleton. I asked Mr. Boney, he had the same name, the same question that I asked before. He said, with a creepy tone, "suuuuuuuree... Folloooowww meeeeee"

I followed the man, which of course I had a better chance of not being violated, to the back room. There was a drum kit. It looked sweet as fuck! It was a double bass, Pearl Reference drum kit. It had 7 toms, and 2 floor toms, and 12 cymbals (4 crashes, 2 china's, 2 splashes, 1 hihat, and 1 ride.) I swear to god, I believed I orgasmed at the sight of that drum kit. I asked him if I could play it, and he said "Go right ahead..."

I went behind the kit, and the man wasn't there. I didn't care anyways, because I was so excited! I hit the hihat, and started playing a beat. Then, out of nowhere, a skeleton popped out, and took me to the realms of Satan himself, to butt fuck me in the ass for eternity!

Then I died, in hell. The End

Written by Fatal Disease
Content is available under CC BY-SA

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