Scratch jokes
I wanted to make a joke about dandruff.
People are still scratching their heads over it.
Jack opened his drying eyes, awoken by a piercing ray of sunlight shining through crooked blinds. A gentle smell wafted in from the corner of what his temporarily blinded eyes knew to be a dilapidated kitchen. It was the one good thing about his life, that smell. He closed his eyes once more and awaited his call.
“Jacky, breakfast time!” beckoned that oh-so-familiar girlish voice. “Oh, silly me, the handcuffs!”
The same footsteps he always heard, the only ones, tapped along the tile floor as each one of Jack’s limbs were freed from the cold metal that imprisoned them. He’d learned not to resist it, and the acceptance was blissful.
Jack slowly dragged himself to the kitchen table, still adjusting his eyes to the light. Moments later, a bowl was slid over to him by a hand he’d become all too familiar with. Oatmeal with little bits of dried apple mixed in. Even after four years, he still liked it.
“Thank you, Randy,” Jack muttered.
“Jill,” said the girl’s voice across from him. The girl’s voice vanished.
“You call me Randy when I’m having my way with you, boy. Understood?” said the balding, sweat-stained man from whom Jill’s voice came.
“Yes, sir.”
“Now hurry up and eat your food. I want to have some more fun before you expire.”
Jack ate obediently, but deep down he grew concerned. Expired? What could Randy mean by...expired?
He thought back to the day everything went wrong. The day he was deceived. His 14th birthday.
Four years...already? Was Jack really about to be an adult? Then expired means...
Jack stood up quickly, hitting his knees on the table with a thud.
“I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Which one?”
“The one you don’t like to watch,” Jack replied. Randy waved him away dismissively.
Jack paced around the small shack searching for the bathroom door. He passed the heavily locked front door, each lock a memento of his past escape attempts. Finally, he entered the bathroom. No lock, he had to be fast.
Jack searched desperately around the room for anything he could use. If this was his last round before Randy was through with him, it might be his only chance to escape. He opened drawers, scrounged through cupboards, scoured every inch of the floor, but found a small mirror.
“Almost done, Jacky?” called the voice of Jill. “Don’t keep daddy waiting.” grumbled Randy.
Startled, Jack lost his grip on the mirror. Jack froze the second it fell to the floor and shattered.
“Shit...shit!” he whispered sharply, trying to brush the mess away. In doing so, he found a shard large enough to be held. “This’ll have to do...”
Jack slid the shard in his pocket and returned to the living room he had woken up in. The same old deflated mattress was still there, iron bars and all. Randy lay sprawled across it, a pink lace bra covering his hairy chest, matching panties withholding his dense, greasy bush. His waist had grown so fat they hardly fit, until...
SNAP!
The panties seemed to vanish as the waistband broke, springing his embarrassing, already erect penis from side to side.
“Oopsies,” he cooed.
Jack took off his clothes, as was the ritual, and laid them at the foot of the mattress. His sore knees pressed into the stained fabric while he inched closer to Randy’s pulsating cock. Licking his lips, Jack bent down and took the member into his mouth. Randy groaned with pleasure as Jack’s tongue swirled around his tip, diving into the lining of his foreskin to gather what curds of smegma were present. Jack’s nausea at this had vanished long ago, he was merely going through the motions before enacting his plan.
As he throated Randy’s dick over and over again, the man who had trapped Jack for so long began to thrust upward into his mouth, lightly scratching his face with the overgrown pubes that lined the base of his cock. Jack wiggled his tongue in Randy’s urethra, just how he liked it. Anything to get this over with quicker.
“Ungh, fuck...don’t stop Jack, you dirty little whore...I’m so close,” Randy moaned.
Jack sucked harder and harder, faster and faster, all while his hand slowly inched toward the makeshift blade in his pants behind him. With the weapon in hand, Jack gave it everything he had.
“MMMPH FUCK YES, CMON BABY GIVE IT TO ME! OH JACK, OH, OH FUCK, I’M G-GONNA CUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!” screamed Randy, closing his eyes tightly.
He threw his head back and Jack took his chance. With one fell swoop of the glass shard, he sliced Randy’s dick clean off, spitting the half of it still in his mouth out. Jack lunged at the injured Randy, glass still in hand.
“AAARRGGHHHHHH, FUCK! HAAH...FUCK!” Randy cried, semen oozing out of his bloody stump of a penis. He opened his eyes just as Jack thrust the blade straight into his right one, then his left. Left weak from the orgasm, Randy could hardly fight back.
(To be continued in comments)
Q. How does an emo scratch an itch? A. With a razor blade.
Lemme tell you a little story.
It’s night. You’re in your room, trying to sleep. But you keep hearing it—scratching. Soft at first. Like fingernails on wood. You tell yourself it’s rats, or the house settling. But it keeps going. Slow... then faster.
So finally, you get outta bed. You get on your hands and knees, put your ear to the floor. And you hear it. A voice. Whispers. Crying.
Your heart’s pounding. You grab a crowbar. You pry up the floorboards. One by one. Your sweat’s dripping into the dust. The noise gets louder.
And finally... you peel back the last plank.
And you see these eyes. Wide and terrified. And a pale little face staring up at you.
BOOOOOOO!!!!
It’s Anne Frank.
I was in the corner shop to buy some lottery tickets, and the Indian woman was sporting a red dot on her forehead. I scratched it off and won a fucking Ford Focus!
I asked my now ex-boyfriend why he’s scared of my cat. He said it was because of the scratches on my arm.
I told him that my cat doesn’t scratch, but he didn’t believe me. He realised what I meant when he noticed I kept hiding my wrist from everyone else.
(Kinda based on the fact that my ex is indeed scared of cats, and he has been scared of my cat, so yeah 😂)
I was in the corner shop and the Indian woman was sporting a red dot on her forehead. I scratched it off and won a fucking Ford Focus!
Why do cats leave scratches on arms? They don't; I do it myself.
Me: Do you ever just walk into a room and forget what you were doing?
Bank teller: [eyes wide] Uhhhhh...
Me: *scratches head with gun* Man, I hate it when this happens.
I’m literally scratching my itchy balls right now.
Why do women rub their eyes when they wake up?
'Cause they don't got balls to scratch.
What did the cat say when he got mad?
I'm hissed!
Little Johnny walks out to the garage and sees Dad smoking a cigarette. He asks, "Hey Dad, can I have a puff of that cigarette?" Dad asks, "Well, Johnny, can your dick reach your ass?" Little Johnny scratches his head and thinks about it for a moment. He then replies, "Well, no, Dad, my dick can't reach my ass." His Dad says, "There's your answer, Johnny..." Little Johnny goes back in the house.
About an hour later, Little Johnny comes back out to the garage and sees his Dad drinking a beer. He asks, "Hey Dad, can I have some of that beer?" Dad asks, "Well, Johnny, can your dick reach your ass?" Little Johnny scratches his head and thinks about it for a moment. He then replies, "Well, no, Dad, my dick can't reach my ass." His Dad says, "There's your answer, Johnny..." Little Johnny goes back in the house.
About an hour later, Little Johnny comes back out to the garage with a big plate of Tollhouse Chocolate Chip cookies, fresh from the oven. His Dad says, "Wow, Johnny, those sure look like some good cookies. You think I can have some?" Little Johnny asks his Dad, "Well Dad, can your dick reach your ass?" His Dad scratches his head and thinks about it for a moment. He then replies, "Well, yes, Johnny, I do believe my dick can reach my ass." Little Johnny says, "Well, Dad, you can go FUCK yourself, cuz Mom made these cookies for me!!!"
Why do girls scratch their eyes in the morning?
Because they don't have another pair of balls.
How do you tell if a blond is really stupid?
Put a scratch and sniff on a bleach pod.
Scratches on an icy road and kills 50 people on the bus, and when they get to Heaven, God feels so bad for them and grants them all one wish.
The first lady in the line was always worried about her looks, so she wished to be beautiful, and the guy behind her couldn’t think of what to wish about, so he also wished to be beautiful. This kept on going, but the guy at the end of the line started to laugh. When he got to God, God says, “What is your one wish, my son?” He said, “I wish you can make them all ugly again.”
So I ran into a woman the other day who says her vaginas is like a lottery ticket. She said it's because you have to be lucky to hit it... I thought it's because she was always scratching it.
What's the difference between a violinist and a dog?
The dog knows when to stop scratching.
Want to know what Juice WRLD would do if he were alive today?
Frantically scratch on the inside of his coffin.
As I’m lying down on the table for a radiation treatment, a small angel lands on one shoulder, a tiny devil on the other shoulder. And then the mind game begins:
Angel: This won’t last long. You are perfectly lined up. The treatment only lasts a few mins. Remember, stay absolutely still.
Devil: Did she just twitch?
Angel: No. She didn’t twitch.
Devil: I think I saw her finger twitch.
Angel: Well, even if it did, it’s her thigh the techs are aiming at.
Devil: She wants to scratch her face.
Angel: Stop it! She can handle staying still a few minutes.
Devil: But her cheek has an itchy spot.
Angel: She can just let it itch. She doesn’t need to scratch every itch. She will just have to think about something else.
Devil: Wow...that cheek is really itchy...
Angel: Think about: Flowers. Acrylic painting. Did the trash get picked up this morning? Her grandson Oliver’s smile...
Devil: How about a song?
Angel: Good idea!
Devil: How about... “Never going to give you up. Never going to let you down....”🎶
Angel: OMG! You just Rick-rolled her! She’s in the middle of a treatment! You know that’s the only part she knows!
Devil: That’s okay. She’ll just repeat the words she knows over and over and over and....
Angel: Don’t be so mean!
Devil: “Never going to give you up...🎶”
Angel: Stop it!
Devil: Her toe! Her big toe! Did you see that? She just twitched it!
Angel: No, she didn’t.
Devil: I bet it screwed up the test and they have to start over....
Angel: She didn’t screw anything up!
Devil: She totally screwed the test up and they were more than halfway done. If they start over at the beginning, she will get too much radiation, and they will end up slicing her whole leg off!
Angel: That’s not how it works...
Devil: Or they just stop all together and she only gets a partial treatment and her tumor won’t get enough radiation.
Angel: They know what they are doing!
Devil: ...And it won’t shrink the tumor and the whole thing fails. And the doctor will have to amputate her leg.
Angel: No! No! No! That’s not how any of this...
Devil: ...And when they amputate, it will be at the hip and not below the knee because the tumor is in her thigh.
Angel: Stop this right now!!
Devil: “Never going to give you up....🎶”
Angel: Stop!
Devil: “...never going let you down....🎶”
Angel: I’m not going to let you...
Devil: “Never going to give you up...🎶”
Techs: Okay. That’s it, Tammi! We are finished! How are you doing?
Tammi: ...Oh, I’m fine.....