In my extensive research of the founding of The United States of America, there always seemed to be a missing element. After tireless efforts, I believe I have found this missing link in history: the true father of our country. As a result of how interesting his life is and my own boredom with my life, I have taken the time to interview many people who have influenced his life, both in person, over the phone, and through a medium to the dead. I assure you that everything printed here is absolutely true, no matter how absurd it sounds or impossible it is. Without further ado, here it is:
(Ps: Much of this is extremely sexual in nature, though when Doc engages in it, it is art, so it is not obscene. It’s like the statue of David, except with a much bigger penis. Reader Discretion Advised)
The Legend of Doc: The Unknown Father of Our Country
Part I
By: Stephen Beck
It was a hot and sultry evening in 1759 in the Easley, South Carolina cabin of explorer Joseph Lawson and his thirteen-year-old concubine, Mary Carter. Joseph had recently returned from an exploration of the western United States, where he helped repopulate dozens of Native American tribes, saving them from extinction (In fairness, they were nearly extinct mostly because of him. Joseph was the most notorious and decorated Indian killer of his time). Many believe that Lewis and Clarke were the first American’s to explore the western half of the United States and discover the Northwest Passage, when in fact it was Joseph Lawson, who, after traversing the entire continent, decided there was no place better in the world than the Piedmont, where he would live out the rest of his days. “American by birth, Southern by the grace of God,” he used to say. Despite his many accomplishments (such as inventing American Football, the sea plane, and the dramatic pause), his greatest achievement would come on the night of May 26th, 1759, on that hot and sultry evening.
Joseph was on top of Mary, making intense, painful love to her, thrusting away, with all the windows closed and the heat turned up to about 82, so it would get sweaty… and hot. Mary tried to get away because she did not like it, but Joseph continued to thrust down on her. There was a feeling in the air that night. The type of feeling that only a man can feel. The type of feeling that’s all the way down in a man’s plums. Joseph heard a sound at the door and, when he looked, it was the Angel Gabriel, holding a golden harp and a decree from the Lord God himself. A sweet melody played on the harp (I think it was Bombs Over Baghdad). (Entire paragraph paraphrased from Will Ferrell)
“Joseph,” he cried out in a ghostly voice, reading from a scroll. “Your concubine will bear a son, and you will call him Jesus, which in Hebrew means, ‘karate champion.’” However, when Gabriel looked down from the scroll, he was staring down the barrel of a blunderbuss. Joseph had risen to his feet, still inside Mary, mind you, grabbed one of his many weapons, and wheeled around to point it at the angel.
“Get the fuck out of my house,” he screamed, without even halting his thrusts to address the intruder.
“You don’t understand. I come bearing a message from God about the next coming of the messiah, and that it will be your son.”
“I do understand. But if you don’t get the fuck out my house, I’ll blow you the fuck back to fairyland where you came from. You and that faggy stringed vagina (harp) you brought.”
With that, Gabriel disappeared and the painful lovemaking continued. Three days later when Joseph showed no signs of finishing (he had the power to control whenever he wanted to cum), Mary had an idea. Unbeknownst to Joseph, Mary had reached around Joseph’s back and was approaching his ass with her thumb. This was the first instance of assplay during sex since Julius Caesar famously put it in Cleopatra’s butt. At the very instant of insertion, an explosion occurred the likes of which were not seen again until the atomic bombs of 1945. Joseph came with such force that he shot Mary clean off of him, straight up into the air, causing her to fly through the ceiling and hundreds of feet into the air. When she finally returned, it was discovered she was in a coma.
Over a month later, Mary was still in the coma. By then, it was now known that she was to bear a child. Doctors frequented the Lawson cabin, though they all seemed to agree that, unless Mary came out of her coma, the baby could never be born. By the time July 3rd came around, a doctor was permanently in the room with Mary, hoping to awaken her and save her child. At around 7pm, Joseph stumbled into his concubine’s room, drunk as fuck.
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think she’s going to make it,” mumbled the doctor. “She’ll be dead within a few hours. There’s no way this baby will ever be born.” Joseph sat by her side during her last few hours, drinking heavily and considering whether it was wrong to fuck her while she was in a coma (too far? Yes, definitely). Just a few minutes before midnight, Joseph sat by Mary’s side, listening to her slow breathing, knowing she was only minutes from being sent straight to hell for her promiscuity. As the clock struck midnight, Mary’s breathing stopped and Joseph knew she was dead. It was the first time in his life Joseph had experienced sadness and he didn’t like it very much at all. He thought about how, if he were a pussy, or worse, a woman, he might cry. But he didn’t, because he was a man. The doctor just kind of sat in the corner of the room in silence the whole night, finally crying like a little bitch when she passed on.
Just then, an overpowering light emerged, covering the whole room and temporarily blinding Joseph. When he regained his sight, Joseph couldn’t believe what he saw. Emerging from the light was a, well he wasn’t sure what to call it. It was some sort of presence, but that was all he knew. The presence strutted straight out of Mary’s womb, strolling casually (3% at the fastest), swinging his dick around like it was a microphone on a chord, whistling a tune and smoking a cigar. ‘Straight Outta Compton’ blared throughout the room from a boom box in the corner, which was particularly odd because they wouldn’t be invented for another 200 years. It looked like a baby, but with certain features of an already grown man such as a six-pack, salt & pepper hair, big bushy eyebrows, and a dick longer than he was tall.
“Is it a ghost?” said the doctor, unaware that he was, at that very moment, pissing his pants.
“No…I think it’s my son… and I’m supposed to name him Jesus,” said Joseph.
“Both wrong,” said the presence. “I am your son. But my name’s not Jesus. It’s Lawson…Rob Mother Fucking Lawson. Born on the fourth of July.” With that, the man we know as Doc swung his dick around to hit his umbilical chord, slicing it in one fell swoop. He is still believed to be the only baby in history to cut his own umbilical chord, let alone to do it with his own dick. Doc turned and faced his mother, now a lifeless body on the bed. He snapped his fingers and she woke up, marking the first of many miracles performed by the super baby Rob Lawson. He casually walked away, now up to about 5%, and noticed the doctor had collapsed on the floor, dead of a heart attack, but did nothing. “I’ll let that pussy die,” said Doc nonchalantly. The only thing left to do was face his father, the great Joseph Lawson. Joseph sat in shock, unable to believe what he had just seen. Doc strolled over to him and spit on his face. “I’m the man of the house now.” And on that day, a child who was eight months premature and thought to be lost forever, waltzed into this world and changed it forever: he was, in every sense of the word, a miracle baby.
