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Texting Girl For Nudes And More Gaming

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Walking with a friend and texting a girl for nudes. Then we go home and play video games and I try to have a conversation.

Age Rating:

Donkey: send nudes

Laylee: Lets just talk

Donkey: Send nudes

Laylee: i hav a lot i want to talk 2 u about

Donkey: what is it now

“Donkey man let me do it you’re being too mean.”

“I got her, just chill out.”

We were walking back to his house and stopping to lean into the phone as he texted her.

Donkey: send nudes

“Stop with that she’s not gonna send you any fucking nudes that way.”

Donkey: well talk if you send nudes

Laylee: i jus want 2 talk to my boyfriend a little

Donkey: why

“Dude that’s not going to work.”

Laylee: cause you’re my BOYFRIEND

Donkey: send nudes

Laylee: not everything has 2 b about sex you know we can talk

Donkey: what do you want

Donkey: send nudes

“Is she even that hot?”

“She has that blonde pussy, mmm—you know for sure ’cause she’s seventeen and—”

“She’s seventeen?”

And half Switzerland and half Norwegiand but she’s from here so she’s not—you know.” he laughed. “Strudel with cream though, mmm. Nazi pussy. There’s only one way you’re not gettin on this train!”

Laylee: its just ive been having trouble lately and shits been FUCKED with my family and my bff is LEAVING me and its not my FAULT i need someone to lean on and a big shoulder to cry on cause shits been so fucked

Donkey: ill talk but you have to send nudes

Laylee: okay 1 second

Donkey: send nudes

“She’s not going to do it. This isn’t … I mean I don’t know maybe …”

His phone beeped and we stopped and leaned in to look.

Laylee: [image upload]

“Told you. It’s tight—you can see by this here,” he pointed to part of it.

“Yeah but that’s not really hers—the shot’s too clean. Is it hers?”

“It is—you can tell ’cause you can see the camera flash and the shadows and the angle—like that here—so you know no one else is holding the camera,” he told me professionally.

“That doesn’t mean it’s hers … okay let me text her.”

Fine, whatever. You’re gonna mess it up if you text like that.”

People passed us as we walked a few steps then stopped, and repeated; I moved closer to Donkey and we looked exclusively at the phone.

Donkey: thanks that was really hot

Laylee: yeah u know i wouldnt send it to just any1

Laylee: but since were dating

“Okay okay give it back Franz give it—”

We tussled and I let him win out.

Donkey: Djfowjroei

Laylee: ?

“She’s tryin with all that now.”

He held it, waiting.

Laylee: u there ?

Laylee: i thought e were going 2 talk

Laylee: hey!

“You have to text her back or she’s gonna leave, man.”

“Just … just chill, Franz. I got this.”

Donkey: send nudes

Laylee: no more pics 4 now

“See they try with that,” he said, “But you can’t let them be on top.”

“I like being nice to girls.”

“You’re way worse than me and you know it, Franz. … We just wait a moment, then …”

Donkey: what do i need you for?

Laylee: what do you NEED me for???

Donkey: yeah

“This is the moment—if she quits I have to wait a few days but I think I got her.”

I waited.

Laylee: how can u ask me that ?????? ?

Donkey: tell me your best qualities

Laylee: well im smart and im pretty and im really LOYAL and i think YOURE funny and im willing to be in a devoted relationship and im very kind to everyone i know

Donkey: i gtg

Laylee: reeeally?

“She’s just posing here,” he told me.

Donkey: ill text you later

Laylee: promise?

Laylee: your not gonna ghost?

Donkey: i gtg

He closed his phone.

“Damn, man.”

“See, it’s ’cause I set it up—for days. It’s still goin. You have to set it up.”

“It was kind of mean, you know.” I said after a moment of consideration. I felt bad for her. I’ve been ghosted too.

He got defensive, “Franz you have no idea how fucked that girl is—she’s like gaming with hacks and a busted controller.” he paused, then rode it and continued, “I respect women, you know I do. My mamma taught me right. But you can’t be too nice to the pussy, not all the time. She doesn’t even want me to be nice.”

“I like being nice to girls.”

“I know, school-shooter.”

I shrugged. “Whatever. … You know you’re my best friend, Donkey.”

“Yeah, I know.” he said slowly. Two people passed us.

“Aye!” Donkey shouted.

They turned around. “Aye Donkey, where you been?”

“Just around.” he glanced at me. He faced them again, “Aye maybe I’ll catch you online later.”


“Aye tell Sophia I asked about her!” he shouted as they walked away.

He turned back to me standing there.

“Franz, I like you, but just like … it doesn’t have to be like that, you know?”

“Hey I liked her pics as much as you.”

“No, you know what I mean—it’s not like that, like that that—I mean. It’s like, just … like it’s a canoe.” he said slowly, leading me, impressed with his wisdom, “It’s like the Indians—and you know how you talk about saving the planet and stuff and how they used canoes to get around—it’s like that, just going down a stream, in a canoe.”

“As opposed to an aircraft carrier? Why not juxtapose a beetle with a tambourine while we’re at it? Look—I don’t know what you’re talking about, Donkey. I have no idea. Literally. like. none. I was just saying you’re my best friend. That’s all. That was literally all I was saying.”

Donkey sighed.

We got to his house and went up to game. We sat down without talking, started it up while Donkey looked at memes, got in and started making classes.

“Let me go first,” I said.

“You went first last time.”

“That was a week ago.”

No,” he said with fake patience, “It was two days ago.”

“Oh, yeah,” I said. “But we only gamed for a few minutes.”

For his first class he did PDW-57, Skulls camo, laser sight, quickdraw, knife as backup, Bloodshot camo, Lightweight, Scavenger, Extreme Conditioning, 2x Flashbang, and Sticky Bomb. Then he changed Lightweight to Ghost, thought about it for a while, and changed it back. He switched the PDW to a KSG and gave it a long barrel, and Art of War camo, then back to PDW, Ronin camo, laser sight, quickdraw, then lost the quickdraw and gave himself a SMAW Art of War camo, then lost the SMAW and put a long barrel on the PDW. Skulls camo.

His next class he did Skorpion EVO, Skulls camo, laser sight, quick draw, Tac-45 dual wield Skulls camo, then he went back and forth over the options for a long time and deleted the dual wield and did Primary Gunfighter and added long barrel to the Skorpion, then Scavenger, Extreme Conditioning, and 2x Flashbang, then one Flashbang and a Sticky. Then he switched the Sticky to a combat ax, and the Tac-45 to knife, Skulls camo, then switched to Executioner and looked over the camos, Ronin camo, then no Flashbang and a laser sight on the Executioner, then back to Tac-45 Art of War camo, and switched his combat ax to a Sticky

“Jesus Christ, Donkey.”

and gave himself a Flashbang. He changed the Tac-45 to Skulls camo.

“Wha—that’s what you had originally!”

He shrugged.

“Okay whatever my turn.”

“Let me do one more.”

No, come on, Donkey, it’s my turn. You’ve been going for ten minutes.”

“Let me do one more.” he started and did knife, Art of War camo, Lightweight, Extreme Conditioning, Fast Hands, 2x Flashbang

“You know shock charge is better than flashbang.”

“Shock charge sticks, it doesn’t bounce.”

“But flashbang won’t stay after you throw it.”

“Yeah but it doesn’t bounce.”

Sticky bomb, and SMAW as backup. With Bloodshot camo.

“Okay let me go.”


I set mine up—PDW-57, quickdraw, suppressor, Primary Gunfighter, fastmag, Scavenger, 2x Shock Charge, knife as back up, Extreme Conditioning, and Bouncing Betty. I had it memorized.

“Aright let’s go.”

“Let me do another class.”

“You don’t need two.”

“You have three.”

“You don’t need two, Franz.”


He started setting up the game.

“Put no time limit.” I said.


“Put it on Regular.”

“I like Hardened.”

“Let’s do just us versus a bunch of them.”

“My girl like it on hardened too.”

“No actually let’s do Kill Confirmed.”

“I like TDM. Let’s go.”

The countdown beeped away as we sat silently and it started loading. The progress bar jumped, ticked forward slowly, then stuck at about a third, like it always did.

“You know I don’t really feel like doing this,” Donkey finally said. “Let’s do GTA—it’s better.”

“… Okay. Maybe I’ll go home.”

“You can if you want,” he got out of BO2 and started loading GTA. Zoomed out. Blue screen. Orange screen. Green screen. Zoom in. Blue screen. Orange screen. Zoom in. Blue screen. Zoom in. Color. Trevor’s throwing some guy off a bridge; we laughed at that a little. Donkey went to get the jet.

“But you are my best friend, you know.”

He kept gaming; he was skydiving and parachuting to safety most of the time.

“You’re like a brother. To me.”

“Yeah.” He bailed out of the jet and fell and didn’t activate his parachute.

“Look out.”

He splatted against the ground and his body bounced and skidded until he respawned.

“You lost another five thousand.”

“I have more than a billion.”

“It can run out.”

“I spend five thousand on hookers every week.”

“They give me a discount.”

“That ain’t the only thing about you that’s discounted!” Donkey started cackling. “Hai! You pay five dalla! Five-and-a-half-inch dalla! WOOOOO!”

I laughed a little, too. “Hey, Donkey.”

“Go up to a bitch, say, ‘The word of the day is “Legs”. So let’s go back to my place and spread the word.’—Giggity-giggity. Say, ‘I’m like a Rubik’s cube: the more you play with me the harder I get.’ Or you can say, ’You be the iceberg I’m the Titanic: I’mma go down on dat ass.’ Mmm.”

“My dick’s named Vlad the Impaler.”

Vladuueck. That sound like fuckin rotten fish.

I … get that ripe pussy. Like it’s a fruit growing on trees I can reach and you can’t. Need this eleven and a half inch reach. Smaash … Fall on my head be like, ’Aye, I guess she’s ripe. … Your honor for my opening statement I’d like to say that she look way riper than she is.’ Then they take you to jail be like, ’I likes ya, an I wants ya. Now we can do this the easy way, or da hard way. The choice is yours.’ ’Cause you know when you another man’s bitch an you get out you can’t just go back to your woman and be like, ‘Aye.’ and everything is alright. That stays with you.”

“Let’s talk about your future. Really, Donkey: we need to. You need to have a plan.”

Iplan on … stuffin … deez nuts into yo girlfriend.” he finished concisely. “Mmm, lil white girl. We can dress her up and call her Turkey. Gobble-gobble, that’s right. And you know who she bout to get the gravy from, don’t you? Mmm!

Really. Come on, Donkey.”

“Franz can we not start this?” he shot a woman who walks by talking on the phone and always says, ‘Guess what? I’m pregnant again.’

“What are you going to do when you get out of high school? Donkey you have no education—”

“I actually have at least a B in every class.”

“—you’re not passionate about anything—why don’t you write a book? Or get some exercise. I know you look great but you’re out of shape, man. Just ’cause you look good doesn’t make you an athlete.”

“I did like two hundred pushups with hardly any break a week ago.”

“Yeah, a week ago—you have to do it consistently.”

“I run around my block five times every morning.”

“I’m here with you a lot of mornings and you’ve literally never done that.”

“I usually do, though.”

No, you don’t.”

“How are you gonna tell me?”

“I’m trying to help you.”

He gamed for twenty minutes without either of us talking. I was getting bored and depressed.

“Remember the time we were gaming together and there was like a wind rising between us? … Donkey.”


“Remember the ti—”

Which time—you’re over here all the time, how am I even supposed to know?”

“When there was like a real wind rising between us. On Nuketown, like a year ago.”

“I don’t know … Yeah, I think I know what you mean.”

“It was a lot of fun.” I said. The lights were making me sick again; it’s orange and green contrasting that does that to me most—like out past Vinewood in the Senora desert or wherever—when I’m gaming.

Donkey got the cops on him.

I started, “Oh yeah and it’s not Kate Upton—the selfie girl. It’s not her.”

“I know her name’s Shelby Welinder.”

“You told me it was Kate Upton.”

“It’s Shelby Welinder.”

“Remember the time you and me and your other friend and your cousin went to the courts and no one was there and we started playing dodgeball with two footballs and a basketball—remember? I got a busted nose—but I was laughing. And your other friend hit your cousin in the nuts. And they almost got in a fight. Remember?”

He didn’t answer for a moment, but then a smile lit his face a little, “And remember I threw the football at Dave’s head and it came this close to hitting him and I was like, ’You saw yo life flash before yo eyes, boy!’”

“Yeah, that was great. That was one of the best times, right?”

Donkey nodded, but kept looking at the game.

“You remember when I got so hungry sleeping over at three AM and I put that shitty bacon in the microwave and the plate melted?”

Donkey laughed a little but still didn’t look at me.

He landed an impressive jump on his Ferrari and said, “When the pussy smell like that you say, ’Uuh, bitch, how many trains been in this tunnel? Fuckin John Henry up in here.” he started cackling; in a bad Indian accent, “I had a dream that you would take a shower!’”

Maybe he was working with me.

I thought where to take it. “Just make sure to wear a condom. Have you been laid lately?”

Donkey didn’t answer at first and I could see as he shrunk back into wishing I’d go home.

“Not really. … Not for a few weeks.”

“A few weeks. Well why not?”

“I don’t know, Franz, I just haven’t been around the right chicks. You have to set it up.”

“Well tell me when you’re around the right girls next. Okay?”

He was Trevor and he’d dressed him up and shaved his head and given him a mustache so he looked Mexican, and he was in Rage and had a grenade launcher and was shooting it randomly in the air around Sandy Shores and a stolen Lamborghini was nearby and Donkey blew it up and himself along with it and respawned and started punching civilians while running along the street and took out an MK II and quick-scoped a woman across the street from him, then put on a Dark Ape Mask and drew a hatchet and started running after a dog.

But he didn’t catch it and turned on invincibility instead and started blowing things up.

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