Their shouts dropped ta a thugged-out dreadful silence fucked up by low chuckles.  Da glock was pulled away.  "No… you don’t git any favors from us, Security."  And it smashed against mah face.
      Da funk fuckin started. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.
I tried ta put up a gangbangin' fight.  I done did. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!  My fuckin hairy-ass legs might done been useless yo, but I could still swin dem around, n' mah grill hit dat shiznit just fine.  They grabbed mah floppin hairy-ass legs n' hauled mah crazy ass grill down over a cold-ass lil crate.  "Let’s stop her floppin round once n' fo' all!" one hollared, n' tha others laughed as they pinned down mah leg.  Then I felt a sharp stab.  "Pin her down, Nails."  Wait… what?
I didn’t scream.  Not all up in tha spike of pain dat went up mah foreleg as tha hammer struck tha head again n' again n' again n' again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.  Nor did I scream all up in tha second, higher up.  Fuck dat shit, it wasn’t until tha third one, just below where mah elbow had been, dat I cried out, ta they laughter n' shit.  I called dem every last muthafuckin variant of ‘fuckers’ I could as mah other foreleg was nailed ta tha floor like a muthafucka.  No matter how tha fuck I tugged, they weren’t comin free.  Not without leavin mah hairy-ass legs behind. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!  My fuckin rear hairy-ass legs was hauled apart, n' one… two… three… they was nailed ta tha floor as well.
I squirmed n' jerked; I couldn’t help dat shit.  Every move hurt, which kept me moving.  "How’s it feel, playaaaaaa, biatch?  Yo ass took every last muthafuckin thang from mah dirty ass."  That was tha one from Fallen Arch… I was gettin mo' betta at pickin up they voices.
I was barely able ta spit out, "I left you yo' game."
"Yeah.  Well, let me pay you back fo' tha favor," he replied. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!  Then mah tail was lifted n' I felt a tongue.  I couldn’t help mah dirty ass, I started ta shake.  I knew what tha fuck was coming.  I knew damned well.  Hell, I was invitin it… any indignity, pain, or humiliation.
Just keep focused on mah dirty ass.
It didn’t hurt like tha nails.  Those had hurt more, certainly.  Fuck dat shit, as dat shiznit was pushed tha fuck into me, I cried out… much ta they delight.  And as they gots going, mah own biologizzle betrayed me, easin tha violation. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.  I hated it yo, but so long as I didn’t hear Scotch cry up as well, I could endure.  I had to.  And so I let dem fill me however they wanted. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! This type'a shiznit happens all tha time.  And they laughed n' called mah crazy ass a supa-ho, as if lyrics could hurt me now, nahmeean, biatch?  Go ahead, I thought.  Take another ride.  Shoot another load. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!  I can take dat shit.
I couldn’t do anything…  But I could take dat shit.
Again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.
And again. I aint talkin' bout chicken n' gravy biatch.
And again.
But eventually, even violation gets boring.  And then a funky-ass buck holla'd from nearby, "Finish her up.  I’m goin ta peep if there’s anythang else worthwhile up in here…"
Da fuck yo ass is.  I bit hard on what tha fuck was tryin ta choke me, makin his ass cry n' pull out.  Then I jabbed mah horn tha fuck into tha side of tha one who’d just spoken.
I blew up his wild lil' freakadelic guts all over me wit a magic bullet.
Fun time was over.
"Cunt son!  Biatch!  Whore!"  Pretty unoriginal gangsta yo, but they was upset as they stomped mah dirty ass.  I fired again n' again n' again n' again n' again n' again until one of dem gots a hoof round mah neck.  I struggled. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka!  "Do dat shiznit son!  Do dat shiznit son!" they fuckin started ta cheer.
      I felt a sharp metal edge press against tha base of mah horn.
      One blow of tha hammer n' I screamed like I never had before.
      Two blows n' I felt blood trickle down mah face.
      With tha third, there was a resoundin crack, n' I felt a snap within mah head like a rubber crew breaking.  And I wailed like a gangbangin' foal. It aint nuthin but tha nick nack patty wack, I still gots tha bigger sack.  Da pain of tha nails was nothing… not a god damn thang at all… compared ta all dis bullshit.  An integral part of mah dirty ass had been torn away.  Finally, I went limp, mah body glazed up in at least three kindz of bodily fluid as I lay there over tha crate.  "Enough… fuckin end dis biiiatch."  My fuckin grill must done been maxed up in blood. Y'all KNOW dat shit, muthafucka! I be fly as a gangbangin' falcon, soarin all up in tha sky dawwwwg!  Wherever Roses was… I apologized ta her n' shit.
      "Come on… I can take… a lil more…" I whispered hoarsely, spittin up mo' than just saliva as I lay there, so peek-a-boo, clear tha way, I be comin' thru fo'sho.  Just a lil longer n' shit.  Just a lil more…
      …a lil more…
      Then I felt a sharp n' strangely cold pain erupt up in mah side.  Everythang seemed ta be oozin outta mah dirty ass.  What, didn’t I have enough holes, biatch?  "She’s done.  Now toss tha ship."