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Skids McGee.


About 'Skids McGee'Edit

Situated in a small city lives a young boy named Skids. Skids wasn't like the rest of the townsfolk, nor did he bother to be like the rest of them. He had a tough life living with disgusted looks from everybody he saw, but this didn't stop Skids McGee and his plan. His plan was to get vengence on the world. The Skids way.


The Doctors name is Robert. He works in Hopeswell Hospital looking after mentally challenged people. Last week, we had a young kid turn up telling us about his skin. He says it just won't stop, we asked what he meant by this but he shrugged, as if to say I'm not even arsed mate. The Doctor questioning hated people like this..stubborn, thinks they're too-cool-for-school types. He grabbed his medical list, sighed, and left the kid in the waiting room. Upon returning to his office, Robert picked up the yellow pages. He knew this kid had an issue but it certainly wasn't 'mental'. He fingered through pages and pages until finding a Dr. Harris, whom specialises in skin-treatments, burns, acid burns, eczema etc. He dialed in the number until turning his head mildly to the right. The waiting room camera displayed on a screen by Robs desk, showed what could only be described as a snow globe. Rob rubbed his eyes and looked closer trying to figure out what he was seeing. A very fast, scratching little pygmy. He turned the microphone on but didn't speak, as all Rob could hear was a gibberish mound of noises. It sounded like a Leprachaun masturbating vigorously, whilst also sounding like a drunk who can't seem to win a bet. The lens had already built up a few inches of skin. Rob attached some rubber gloves and dashed to the waiting room instantly!


As Robert left his Doctors Office, all lights in the small corridor had been turned off. Just the slight woo'ing of electrics and a patter of heavy footsteps, scattering in unknown quarters of Hopeswell. Rob got to the door that led to the waiting room. Having blindly secured himself along the wall he could see through the window of the door. He saw no receptionist and no other people around. Just a light snowfall of skin flakes and a huge build up situated near the chair where the kid was sat. Rob flapped his Doctors Gown behind him like a cape and reached for a scalpel that he had attached to his belt. He pushed the door open and walked in clutching his senses as if the room was filled with potent poison gas. It strongly reaked of catpiss, a deep, in-the-wall type stench. His eyes began to water but he kept his act together. The leprachaun sounds came from behind the receptionist desk, Rob looked over there and the kid was definitely there, hiding, he could see a sifter of head hair moving back and forward. Rob clutched the scalpel and walked slowly over as if he was holding a loaded gun, avoiding thick floating skin flakes and kicking through mounds of the stuff just to step with ease. Ready to jut at any moment, the kid pounced up and scattered heavily to the corner of the room, behind the seated waiting area. He was still in clear view but pretending he wasn't - he continued to shred away at his arms and face. Scratching. Scratching. The sound of it on his face sounded like the typical 'fapping' sound. It made Rob heave roughly 13 times within the hour. His arms were malting away, some of the flakes made a tiny sound when hitting the floor. This kid really did mean what he said. He kept avoiding Rob as he was slowly walking with the scalpel. For a chubby ugly cunt, this kid moved quick! Rob shouted "I've had enough!!,' he threw the scalpel directly at this kids head. It stabbed into him but it didn't kill him. Stuck to his forehead like a dart would. Rob looked behind the reception, he screamed and literally puked this time.


The receptionist was crumpled on the floor with her backside in the air. Her tights and skirt still in tact (maybe he can't perform sexual acts) and her blouse was how it was this morning. However, she was face down and Rob had to check her status. He puppeted her throat to check her pulse, it was fine. He then turned her safely over whilst keeping a constant eye on the boy. Her face revealed a 60 second blackout to Rob. Her eyes had been clumsily pulled out of her sockets, half of her left eye which was burst and not fully removed looked like an unhappy fish eye. Both sockets, including her nose and mouth had been stuffed with skin flakes. They were so arid and dry and that when she muttered a breath, skin would flutter out like fluttering butterflies. It was however, a shame that this skin belonged to a derranged and psychotic freak and wasn't actual butterflies.


Skids McGee knew that Rob would faint. It bought Skid's a good few extra minutes to shave away at his thighs and stomach. He stood up and was constantly roughing his hair and arms. He walked up to Robs unconcious body and looked at it. Lifeless. He stood over him in a specific position and began to riff. It took Rob a mere 16 seconds to be fully engulfed in transparent leaves of skin. During the process, Rob could partly hear over the dry and rigid sounds of scratching what Skids was saying. Grunting and what seemed like orgasms, the last thing Rob heard was that leprechaun pygmy voice "I've dunnem all me. I fuck here. I fuck there. I have pussy all the time I do! I love it and it always comes my way. Doesn't it Grandma? Yesss. Yes it does. I do and it does. Yes. Yes". The scratching and breathing stopped. Rob was coming around when he faintly heard those fast and heavy footsteps again. Stomping far away.


Having woken up in a hospital bed, Rob found tubes attached to his face and he realised he was in Intensive Care. He looked around the room, there were 4 Doctors looking terrified standingd around him. Rob didn't even remember what happened. He didn't speak yet, but before he did Dr. Harris, whom he contacted about this child said, "Robert. I responded to your call, if you remember? Robs eyebrows lowered, looking confused. The kids name is Skids McGee. He has sadly killed your receptionist and...well, how can I put this Dr. Harris bit his bottom lip in deep thought. You have been exposed to Shedding. Now, it's completely managable so long as you apply the correct treatmen-" Rob suddenly shot out of his bed, all tubes detached and sharp needles to the blood stream wormed away frantically. Rob began to scratch so strongly that he clawed through all layers of his skin. A few doctors fainted from shock, but Dr. Harris stood in fear and amazement. He could hear Robs fingers and knuckles scratching against his rib bones. It sounded like pebbles on pebbles. As Rob looked up at Dr. Harris he still had a very confused face. He wasn't sure why he was scratching but also didn't care at all. His clawing had reached his shins. The bone that he had clawed to had now started splinting away. After Robs nails had detached from his finger tips, he began yanking at his inner cartilage and muscles. Just pulling them and snapping them. Some would pang back into places, causing Rob to have a body shudder. He fell to the floor in what now looked like a slaughter house. Dr. Harris slowly removed his glasses in absolute shock. He jacketed off the flakes that had clouded his glasses up. He casually picked his mobile phone from his pocket and dialed 999. A voice spoke "Hello, Hopeswell Emergency Services how may-"...the phone cracked away from his ear and to the floor right in a glunk of Robs flesh. Dr. Harris turned quickly but had also dropped his glasses during the spin. He saw a chubby little kid smiling right at his face. The kid then slit Dr. Harris' throat whilst he was seated. He remained seated as blood happily squirted across the length of the room. Dr. Harris began to lose more blood and vision and sound, things started to fade out until a beautiful patter of 'snow' began to fall. It was dreamy. They dropped like delicate thoughts..lots of it and it didn't stop. As Dr. Harris had his life in a casket an overwhelming scratching sound began to take over. A fuzzy and bland sight of Skids McGee is seen destroying what beauty Dr. Harris had remaining in his blurred vision.


Skids stood in that certain way, fully naked over his vicim and started to drown him with his skin. Dr. Harris could feel it filling him like shredded paper, his throat became so dry that he died of extreme dehydration.


Skids McGee was later found and shot dead at the scene of the crime.

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