Pinocchio ADW Style

So, by a count of eight to seven, my take on Pinocchio won the "next blog story."

Here you go:

Pinocchio (With comments by ADW)

Once upon a time, long ago, the wishing star shone brightly in the night sky. Its beams formed a shimmering pathway to a sleepy little village below. Only one house still had a light burning in the window, and that was the workshop of Geppetto, the kindly old woodcarver. Geppetto was happily finishing a puppet he had made out of wood.

First I would like to address the wishing star. Where is this village with a wishing star and how soon can I fly my broke ass over there? Are there limits to the amount of wishes that you can get from the star? Are there any sacrifices that need to be made to the star in order for it to grant the wisher's request? If so, I have a couple of useless, pain in the ass dogs and one wicked witch of a neighbor that I would be happy to sacrifice for the just cause of making myself deleriously wealthy, with the body of a goddess.

Why is everyone in the fucking village sleeping? I think that this is probably a fishing village, later proven correct in the book, and that they need their sleep for a long day of hauling in crabs, haddock and tuna. But, if this is indeed a blue-collar kind of place, what do they need an old wood carver for? Haven't these folks ever heard of scrimshaw?

"The kindly old woodcarver" has got to be another way of saying creepy, dirty pedophile. I am as sure of this as I am the fact that I am the sexiest person in this room right now. Certain I tell you. We shall see.

Page 2

"The only thing left to do now," said Geppetto to the puppet, "is to give you a name. Let's see... I shall call you Pinocchio!"

"What a grand name for such a handsome boy!" Jimminy Cricket said with a chirp.

That night, as Geppetto lay in bed, he looked out at the bright evening star and made a wish. Geppetto wished that Pinnochio were a real boy. Then he drifted off to sleep.

Here is where I insert how the story really should be written.

Crazy old Geppetty (a much cooler nickname for a loony-tune) started talking to the puppet, which is not much of a surprise when you take into account the fact that he is off his rocker. He told the puppet that he was going to name him Pinnochio. Probably so he would remember what name to call out when he was getting splinters in his dick.

Geppetty saw a cricket in the corner. "Oh look," he cried out! That is my friend Jiminy. "What are you saying," asked Geppetty?

Jiminy Cricket looked at Geppetty and rolled his eyes. "Crazy old fart. I ain't got nuthin to tell you 'bout nuthin. I'm outta here before I have to watch you violate that poor little puppet."

Geppetty looked at Pinocchio and then made a wish on that wacky evening star. (As opposed to the one that hovers about midday.) Geppetty wished that Pinochio was a real boy; there wouldn't be anymore splinters that way.

Page 3
By now I have realized that this is going to have to be a multiple part post, because I don't have the time or inclination to do this shit for 14 more pages right now. Not one more person could have fucking voted for me to write my fucking Christmas fucking story? Not one? I'm a hunt you bastards down who voted for this fucking Pinocchio story and fart on your faces. You sons of bitches.

Fuck!

Suddenly the Blue Fairy appeared in Geppetto's workshop. "Good Geppetto," whispered the fairy, "you have given so much happiness to others, you deserve to have your wish come true." Then, with a wave of her wand, the Blue Fairy brought Pinocchio to life.

"A-a-am I a REAL boy?" Pinicchio asked the Blue Fairy.

All of a sudden, a cracked out tranny appeared in the window of Geppetty's workshop/white slavery headquarters. While stumbling about, looking for some cash or easily pawned items to sell and score a quick fix, shim slipped and fell on something wooden.

At that moment, the shim, AKA the Blue Ball Fairy, farted, spewing semen and taint juice all over the puppet. And something magical happened. The puppet became animated from the con-cock-tion of man juice mixed with a little PCP.

"A-a-am I a real boy?" Pinnochio asked the Blue Ball Fairy.

Page 4
I have the stamina of a ninety-year old oil billionaire trying to keep his willie up. Fuck I'm tired. And all kinds of screwed up from this DST bullshit. Fuck.

"No, Pinnochio," she answered. "First you must prove yourself brave, truthful, and unselfish. You must also learn to choose between right and wrong. You conscience will help you."

"What's a conscience?" asked Pinocchio.

"That's the small voice that people don't always listen to" Jiminy Cricket answered.

The Blue Fairy made Jiminy Cricket kneel down before her, and she dubbed him Pinocchio's Official Conscience. It would be his job to see that Pinnochio did only what was right. Then the Blue Fairy vanished.

I just have to say, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME HERE? Seriously.

"Uh, I'm not real sure about that one little buddy. Maybe if you do some good things, you won't turn into a tricked-out, crack-head freak like me. Maybe you should follow your..... Oh shit, what was that thing called? It's the angel that sits on one shoulder. Fuck. Oops. Hee-hee. Guess I shouldn't swear in front of a kid...ish. Oh yeah, a conscience."

"What's that?", asked the little freakazoid.

Just then, Jiminy Cricket hopped up on the table and did a little jig. Then he told the boy-freak that a conscience was what helped you figure out right from wrong.

The Blue Ball Fairy, waved his willie at the cricket to make him go away. Bugs fucking creeped him/her out. But the fucker wasn't going anywhere. Then he/she thought of a better idea. He/She told the freak-boy that the cricket was his conscience.

Since there wasn't any cash or anything else worthwhile laying around, the Blue Ball Fairy high-tailed it out of there, looking for another house to break into.



OK fuckers, I'm done for now. I believe that this will be a 3 to 4 part post, which allows me to take a break and gives me a few more blog posts without having to think of anything else.

I hate you all. Well, not the ones that voted for the Christmas story. It's much more interesting than this made up shit.

But seriously? I was reading this story to my little peanut butter the other night and I was giving myself chills thinking of alternative dialogue in my head. Creepy.