The Machine

Hugh was excited to finally be invited over to his hot neighbor Owen’s house. Owen had invited him and his dad. Mr. Magnussen looked like this:

Hugh rang the doorbell across the street. Owen answered, decked out in a swanky suit.

“Ah, you must be the Magnussens. Please, come on in. Have a seat in the living room. I’m waiting for the meatballs to heat up.”

“Where’s your dad?” asked Billy, Hugh’s dad.

“Oh, he died overseas, and my mom died in childbirth. I live alone, but it’s not that bad.”

“Oh,” Billy replied. “So, do you have a job?” The three continued the small talk for a few more minutes until the buzzer rang. Owen got up and took the meatballs out of the oven. Hugh and Billy couldn’t see this, but he injected two of them with a brown liquid.

“Let’s eat!” he announced. Owen made sure Hugh got both of the special meatballs. Dinner went well, and Hugh realized Owen was detached because this was his childhood home, which would have brought back many memories. After the entree was done, Hugh felt like he really needed to shit.

“Excuse me!” he announced, and rushed straight to the bathroom. He didn’t know what caused that sudden urge to defecate, but he entered the dining room to find his dad staring into a machine. The machine then clicked. “ALL DONE!” it cheerfully noted.

“What the fuck did you just do to my father?”

“Oh, he’s my mindless zombie slave now.”

“Why the fuck did you do that for?”

“You see, my dad didn’t really die overseas. The inventor of this machine right here wanted him, and used the device to control him. In return, I got possession of the device. Once you and your hot father moved in, I knew I had my next victim.”

“But you moved in later than us.”

“I have a property in every neighborhood in town. It was just a matter of changing houses.”

“So, my dad’s stuck like this, forever?”

“Yeah. You can keep him if you want, but the programming makes it so a biological relative can’t control them, yourself included.”

“You are a fucking psychopath, Owen!” He then grabbed the machine and threw it to the ground. To his surprise, it just stopped, with a total loss of momentum.

“That’s a non-Newtonian solid for you. The inventor made tons of little shock absorbers to absorb the momentum. It’s practically unbreakable.”

“I don’t want that fucking thing.”

“You need to take it. Who says a daddy isn’t in your future.”

“Well, I was eyeing this hot DILF at the gym.”

“Here, use it on him.” The machine was thrust into Hugh’s hands. He left the house, and heard his father’s first command as a zombie slave: “Strip completely.”

Anonymous, I hope this fulfills all your requests. If not, send another or a PM, if possible. Everyone else, feel free to send in a story idea. I’m very open.

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