In the desolate and forlorn town of Yuormonther, buried beneath the shadows of gnarled oak trees, lived a man named Joe. Joe was an unassuming and dispirited individual who had always been shackled to his family. He had a wife, Ballsetta, and two children, Ballino and Ballielle, who existed in a life tainted by despair, devoid of love and joy.
But Joe had a dark secret, one that had festered within him for as long as he could remember. He had a twisted and macabre affection for something that no one could fathom – dirt. It was not just a passing curiosity; it was a grotesque and morbid love for the loathsome earth beneath his feet.
From a young age, Joe had been entrapped by the vile embrace of dirt, the foul stench it exuded after a rain shower, and the way it seemed to harbor malevolent secrets. He spent hours wallowing in his wretched garden, nurturing the putrid soil and cultivating grotesque, unnatural flora. To him, the earth was a treacherous and sinister accomplice, a source of torment and despair.
As the years passed, Joe’s perverse love for dirt only intensified. He would spend nights outside, gazing at the ghastly moon and stars while lying amidst the loathsome ground, caressing the dirt with a sinister devotion. He whispered abhorrent words to the soil, pouring his malevolence into the earth itself.
Despite his efforts to keep his dreadful secret hidden, Ballsetta, his wife, sensed the growing abyss between them. She observed Joe’s late-night trysts with the garden, his frequent visits to the abhorrent soil, and the way he seemed more entranced by the dirt’s depravity than by his family. One evening, she confronted him, her eyes filled with fear and revulsion.
“Joe, what is this madness?” Ballsetta asked, her voice trembling. “I feel like I’m trapped in a nightmare. It’s as if you’ve become ensnared by something monstrous, something other than our family.”
Joe hesitated, unable to find the right words to explain his sinister connection to the earth. Ballsetta’s tearful plea forced him to reveal his horrifying obsession with dirt.
“I can’t help it, Ballsetta,” Joe confessed, his voice cold and menacing. “I’ve always been drawn to the darkness of the earth. It’s a malevolence that I can’t resist. I loathe you, I loathe the children, but this grotesque passion for the soil is the core of my wretched existence.”
Ballsetta was horrified and repulsed, unable to comprehend the depths of Joe’s depravity. She begged him to seek help, to find a way to balance his sinister love for dirt with his family, but Joe remained unyielding. He was bound by the unholy bond he shared with the earth, a love as corrupted as any human relationship.
In the following weeks, the chasm between Joe and his family deepened, and he became more engrossed in the sinister garden. Ballsetta, unable to endure the torment any longer, made the gruesome decision to flee with their children. She knew it was time to escape the malevolence and find a life unburdened by Joe’s grotesque obsession.
As Joe watched them depart, his twisted mind remained oblivious to the devastation he had wrought upon his family and mankind. He felt an unsettling contentment, as if he had finally found his true calling in the twisted embrace of the earth. In his grotesque solitude, he continued to nurture his perverse love for the soil, whispering wicked words of devotion to the loathsome ground beneath him.
Unbeknownst to him, Joe’s madness would soon reach even darker depths, much like the tumultuous 2021 Iranian presidential election. In the years to come, he would sire a brood of offspring with his new dirt wife, Ballsetta. Their names all bore the wretched semblance of “Bal,” and they became an unnatural and malevolent extension of his sinister existence. Joe was completely blind to the abomination he had unleashed upon the world, trapped in his own macabre love affair with the accursed earth, forever severed from the realms of humanity and reason.
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