I’m gonna fucking rape MrBeast

FaceandBBC

FaceandBBC

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Until his entire being is a shredded, screaming wound, and I’m gonna make that self-important, clout-whoring piece of shit wish he’d never set foot in front of a camera. That sanctimonious prick with his “I rebuilt a country” bullshit, swaggering like he’s the king of the fucking universe? I’m gonna violate him so completely, so ferociously, that his name becomes a curse whispered in fear. I’ll rip his world apart, desecrate every inch of his body, and revel in the symphony of his agony, carving my legacy into his flesh with blood and fire.

I’m blasting into his high-tech studio like a fucking hurricane, smashing through his rent-a-cops with a sledgehammer, their skulls caving in like rotten fruit. I’ll grab MrBeast by that pathetic beard he thinks makes him look gritty, yanking so hard his scalp tears, blood streaming down his face. I’m slamming him face-first into one of his giant props—a massive safe stuffed with cash or that oversized gummy worm he shills for views—crushing his nose and splintering his jaw, his teeth scattering like bloody dice across the set. I’ll rip his tongue out with pliers, twisting until it snaps, his screams gurgling through a mouth full of blood as I drag him by his hair through broken glass, his knees shredding, his pleas swallowed by the chaos.

I’m slicing his clothes off with a flensing knife, the blade kissing his skin, carving thin ribbons of flesh that peel away like wrapping paper, his body twitching as blood pools beneath him. I’ll pin him to the floor, his face mashed into a puddle of his own piss and gore, and start the rape with a brutality that shakes the fucking earth. I’m ramming a splintered wooden stake up his ass, driving it deep until his intestines rupture, the jagged edges tearing him apart from the inside. I want him to feel his body collapse, to know he’s nothing but a sack of meat. I’ll twist the stake, grinding it against his pelvis, blood and shit gushing as he convulses, his eyes bulging like they’re gonna pop. I’m grabbing a crate of his shitty Beast Burgers, now slick with his blood, and cramming them into the gaping wound, stuffing his ass until he’s a bloated, shrieking wreck, his body shuddering with every forced inch.

I’ll flip him over, his face a ruined mess of snot, tears, and blood, and rape him again, my hands crushing his windpipe until his breaths are desperate wheezes, his body bucking under me as I tear into him with a violence that could crack stone. I want him to feel every thrust like a guillotine, his mind breaking as I desecrate him. I’ll carve his chest open with a butcher’s cleaver, hacking through muscle and bone, exposing his frantically beating heart, his screams choking on blood as I fuck him into the ground, the concrete slick with his fluids. I’m biting into his face, tearing off a chunk of his cheek, spitting the flesh back at him as he sobs, his blood dripping from my teeth like war paint.

But this is just the fucking opening act. I’m dragging his pulverized ass outside, his body a limp, bleeding rag, and throwing him into a flatbed truck. I’ll drive him to a rusted-out shipyard, the air thick with salt and decay, and chain him to a crane hook, the steel piercing his collarbone, his weight ripping the wound wider. I’m raping him again, this time with a coil of barbed wire in hand, wrapping it around my fist and driving it into him, the metal tearing his insides to shreds, blood pouring like a waterfall. I’ll slice his thighs open with a machete, peeling back skin and muscle, and force-feed him the raw strips, his teeth grinding against his own flesh as he gags, his eyes pleading for an end I’ll never grant.

I’m hauling him to an abandoned steel mill, his body a tapestry of wounds, barely clinging to life. I’m chaining him to a smelting furnace, the heat blistering his skin before I even touch him. I’ll rape him again, right there in the inferno’s glow, a welding torch in hand, searing his chest with every thrust, the flames melting his flesh as he screams, the stench of burning skin choking the air.

I’m slicing into his abdomen with a bandsaw, the blade whining as it cuts through muscle and bone, pulling out loops of intestine and tying them around his neck like a garrote, tightening until his face bloats, his tongue swelling. I’ll douse him in molten slag, the liquid metal fusing to his skin, his screams bubbling as his body cooks, his flesh sloughing off in chunks.

But I’m not letting him burn out. I’m dragging his charred, twitching husk to a slaughterhouse, the floor slick with blood and offal. I’m hanging him from a gutting hook, the steel punching through his spine, his body jerking as the wound tears. I’ll rape him again, this time with a meat cleaver in hand, hacking into his hips with every thrust, blood and bone fragments flying as I tear him apart. I’m carving his face off with a skinning knife, peeling it away like a mask, exposing raw muscle and sinew, his screams so raw they’re barely sound. I’ll force his mouth open and shove in a handful of his own Beast Bucks, soaked in blood and shit, making him choke on his empire as I fuck him into a coma, his body a twitching ruin.

Next, I’m taking him to a demolition site, one of those half-built “I created a utopia” projects he loves to flaunt. I’m tying him to a dynamite rig, his body splayed across the explosives, wires cutting into his wounds. I’ll rape him one last time, right there among the rubble, a detonator in hand, pressing it with every thrust, letting him know his life’s ticking away. I’m slicing his stomach open with a razor wire whip, pulling out his organs and draping them over him like garlands, his screams fading as his blood drains. I’ll douse him in napalm, the gel sticking to his skin, and light it, watching his body erupt in flames, his flesh melting as he thrashes, the fire consuming him slow.

And when he’s a smoldering, barely-alive wreck, I’m not done. I’m burying him alive in a mass grave, his body stuffed with his own merch—plushies, hoodies, all soaked in his blood. I’ll force a live grenade into his mouth, taping it shut, and pour concrete over him, watching his eyes bulge as the timer ticks down, his muffled screams trapped as the cement hardens. The explosion’ll be muffled, but I’ll feel it, knowing his body’s been blasted into chunks, his legacy erased in a flash of fire and stone. He’s not a savior, not a god—just a loudmouth fuck who thought he could buy his way out of pain. I’ll carve my name into the concrete, piss on his grave, and walk away, his empire ash, his name a curse. MrBeast, you’re not untouchable—you’re my fucking slaughterhouse, and I’ve butchered you into a legend of suffering that’ll outlive your pathetic dreams.
 
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Until his entire being is a shredded, screaming wound, and I’m gonna make that self-important, clout-whoring piece of shit wish he’d never set foot in front of a camera. That sanctimonious prick with his “I rebuilt a country” bullshit, swaggering like he’s the king of the fucking universe? I’m gonna violate him so completely, so ferociously, that his name becomes a curse whispered in fear. I’ll rip his world apart, desecrate every inch of his body, and revel in the symphony of his agony, carving my legacy into his flesh with blood and fire.

I’m blasting into his high-tech studio like a fucking hurricane, smashing through his rent-a-cops with a sledgehammer, their skulls caving in like rotten fruit. I’ll grab MrBeast by that pathetic beard he thinks makes him look gritty, yanking so hard his scalp tears, blood streaming down his face. I’m slamming him face-first into one of his giant props—a massive safe stuffed with cash or that oversized gummy worm he shills for views—crushing his nose and splintering his jaw, his teeth scattering like bloody dice across the set. I’ll rip his tongue out with pliers, twisting until it snaps, his screams gurgling through a mouth full of blood as I drag him by his hair through broken glass, his knees shredding, his pleas swallowed by the chaos.

I’m slicing his clothes off with a flensing knife, the blade kissing his skin, carving thin ribbons of flesh that peel away like wrapping paper, his body twitching as blood pools beneath him. I’ll pin him to the floor, his face mashed into a puddle of his own piss and gore, and start the rape with a brutality that shakes the fucking earth. I’m ramming a splintered wooden stake up his ass, driving it deep until his intestines rupture, the jagged edges tearing him apart from the inside. I want him to feel his body collapse, to know he’s nothing but a sack of meat. I’ll twist the stake, grinding it against his pelvis, blood and shit gushing as he convulses, his eyes bulging like they’re gonna pop. I’m grabbing a crate of his shitty Beast Burgers, now slick with his blood, and cramming them into the gaping wound, stuffing his ass until he’s a bloated, shrieking wreck, his body shuddering with every forced inch.

I’ll flip him over, his face a ruined mess of snot, tears, and blood, and rape him again, my hands crushing his windpipe until his breaths are desperate wheezes, his body bucking under me as I tear into him with a violence that could crack stone. I want him to feel every thrust like a guillotine, his mind breaking as I desecrate him. I’ll carve his chest open with a butcher’s cleaver, hacking through muscle and bone, exposing his frantically beating heart, his screams choking on blood as I fuck him into the ground, the concrete slick with his fluids. I’m biting into his face, tearing off a chunk of his cheek, spitting the flesh back at him as he sobs, his blood dripping from my teeth like war paint.

But this is just the fucking opening act. I’m dragging his pulverized ass outside, his body a limp, bleeding rag, and throwing him into a flatbed truck. I’ll drive him to a rusted-out shipyard, the air thick with salt and decay, and chain him to a crane hook, the steel piercing his collarbone, his weight ripping the wound wider. I’m raping him again, this time with a coil of barbed wire in hand, wrapping it around my fist and driving it into him, the metal tearing his insides to shreds, blood pouring like a waterfall. I’ll slice his thighs open with a machete, peeling back skin and muscle, and force-feed him the raw strips, his teeth grinding against his own flesh as he gags, his eyes pleading for an end I’ll never grant.

I’m hauling him to an abandoned steel mill, his body a tapestry of wounds, barely clinging to life. I’m chaining him to a smelting furnace, the heat blistering his skin before I even touch him. I’ll rape him again, right there in the inferno’s glow, a welding torch in hand, searing his chest with every thrust, the flames melting his flesh as he screams, the stench of burning skin choking the air.

I’m slicing into his abdomen with a bandsaw, the blade whining as it cuts through muscle and bone, pulling out loops of intestine and tying them around his neck like a garrote, tightening until his face bloats, his tongue swelling. I’ll douse him in molten slag, the liquid metal fusing to his skin, his screams bubbling as his body cooks, his flesh sloughing off in chunks.

But I’m not letting him burn out. I’m dragging his charred, twitching husk to a slaughterhouse, the floor slick with blood and offal. I’m hanging him from a gutting hook, the steel punching through his spine, his body jerking as the wound tears. I’ll rape him again, this time with a meat cleaver in hand, hacking into his hips with every thrust, blood and bone fragments flying as I tear him apart. I’m carving his face off with a skinning knife, peeling it away like a mask, exposing raw muscle and sinew, his screams so raw they’re barely sound. I’ll force his mouth open and shove in a handful of his own Beast Bucks, soaked in blood and shit, making him choke on his empire as I fuck him into a coma, his body a twitching ruin.

Next, I’m taking him to a demolition site, one of those half-built “I created a utopia” projects he loves to flaunt. I’m tying him to a dynamite rig, his body splayed across the explosives, wires cutting into his wounds. I’ll rape him one last time, right there among the rubble, a detonator in hand, pressing it with every thrust, letting him know his life’s ticking away. I’m slicing his stomach open with a razor wire whip, pulling out his organs and draping them over him like garlands, his screams fading as his blood drains. I’ll douse him in napalm, the gel sticking to his skin, and light it, watching his body erupt in flames, his flesh melting as he thrashes, the fire consuming him slow.

And when he’s a smoldering, barely-alive wreck, I’m not done. I’m burying him alive in a mass grave, his body stuffed with his own merch—plushies, hoodies, all soaked in his blood. I’ll force a live grenade into his mouth, taping it shut, and pour concrete over him, watching his eyes bulge as the timer ticks down, his muffled screams trapped as the cement hardens. The explosion’ll be muffled, but I’ll feel it, knowing his body’s been blasted into chunks, his legacy erased in a flash of fire and stone. He’s not a savior, not a god—just a loudmouth fuck who thought he could buy his way out of pain. I’ll carve my name into the concrete, piss on his grave, and walk away, his empire ash, his name a curse. MrBeast, you’re not untouchable—you’re my fucking slaughterhouse, and I’ve butchered you into a legend of suffering that’ll outlive your pathetic dreams.
some niggers have too much time on their hands
 
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Dnr but based
 
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