A spiritually void and grotesque post-fatality ritual enacted by two train drivers who, instead of alerting emergency services, descend into a depraved state of edging-fuelled madness known as gorping. The scene begins with one driver stripping off his hi-vis, slathering himself in DAZ1901 axle grease, and whispering locomotive jargon as if invoking a dark rail deity. The recently deceased body — ideally pregnant in the most abominable variants — becomes the gorp vessel. The act involves intimate interaction with trauma sites, huffing bodily vapors, sliding against exposed abdominal tissue, and softly edging in sync with the rhythmic ding of nearby level crossing bells. The ritual peaks when one driver leaps off the station platform directly onto the body, while the second kneels on the ballast below, mouth agape, ready to catch any expelled viscera, fetus, or gore as a sacred communion of the rail. The act concludes with both men locked in a smegma-slick embrace, whispering “she’s ballast now.” Long-term consequences include bans from crib rooms, permanent pelvic tremors, and unshakable spiritual tinnitus.
Tom: "I didn’t want to do it, mate… I just froze. I was still holding the radio."
Dawko: "You saw her, Tom. She jumped for this. It was meant to be. I’ve never gorped that hard in my life."
Father Eric (emerging silently from the shadows and adjusting his collar): "The Aftertrack Agreement... this is not the way of the pill."
Dawko: "You saw her, Tom. She jumped for this. It was meant to be. I’ve never gorped that hard in my life."
Father Eric (emerging silently from the shadows and adjusting his collar): "The Aftertrack Agreement... this is not the way of the pill."
by King of Cum Junction July 26, 2025