I hit a goblin with a speed boat in the tropics on a lake

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Before I tell you my tale it’s important to tell you that I have a bit of a history with hitting things with vehicles. The front of my car used to be covered in dents from all the objects I’ve rammed. Many times have I plowed through boom barriers because the nosy boom barrier attendant refused to lift the barrier fast enough. These barriers are laughably fragile and my car could easily tear them down with only minor damage. Needless to say I have no scruples about ramming through anything that impeded my car. With that out of the way, let me tell you my tale.

The grocery store I work at, Tillmans market, organises a store wide vacation to various exotic locations every two years. This year my boss ricardo was able to snag a trip to the sunny caribbean shores of Nevis island. It might sound very unbelievable that a small grocery store would book an expensive trip for every member of the staff including interns who hand out free samples of products like me, but it is true. This is a true story, and that makes it all the more frightening, because it is very real and it all happened to me.

We were allowed to take one plus on the trip (that means that you can take one person with you not that you can take the mathematical symbol for additions with you). Since I am not married and don’t wish to get married to my current girlfriend I was planning on ignoring this option, sadly my dipshit cousin Dillian was able to blackmail me into taking him with me by forging fake evidence that I supposedly damaged his stupid car. I had no choice but to take him with me. Dillian is what you might call a “busta” in hood language. I can not stand him as he will often interrupt me when I’m impressing girls with my knowledge of tractor pulling. He’ll try to buy my beautiful babes drinks and steal my mojo, leaving my story of the short history of tractor pulling unfinished and me completely limp.

When the day to depart finally arrived I entered into Dillian’s infuriating car and sat in the back seat in an effort to avoid talking to him. We started on the 3 hour car trip and Dillian infuriatingly ignored taking the more scenic route for taking the interstate to “save time”. When we finally arrived I was exhausted as I failed to find a comfortable sitting position in the car. I got out of the car while Dillian was finding a place to park, the perfect time to ditch this guy! I ran into the airport towards the group of Tillmans market employees that had formed in the top right corner of the center of the room. My boss Ricardo approached me:
“Hey T. (I will refer to myself as T.) Here is the airplane ticket for you and your partner.” He said.
“I’m not gay, he’s my cousin” I yelled.
“Yeah, ok, whatever…” said Ricardo.
This was a nightmare, I had worked really hard to build up a cool, heterosexual persona in front of my coworkers. For them to believe I was gay would shatter that illusion like a Graham Cracker being pulled apart by a large tractor. I was so stunned that I allowed Dillian to catch up to me ruining my chances of escape. I quickly introduced Dillian as my cousin and not my gay lover to my colleagues and took my baggage from him. I started moving towards the little door hole without a door that beeps if you go through it with metal. The attendant signaled me to put my bag on a conveyor belt and put my stuff into a plastic container. I put in my two sets of keys, my pocket nail file, my small metal statuete and my loose coins. The male attendant pointed towards my crotch which gave me a chill of fright, but I realised he was pointing to my belt buckle. I told the man I didn’t need to take it off because it was only fake gold. I went towards the gate until i was suddenly surrounded by toned security guards.
“Sir, come with us.” They said.
I followed them with a heavy heart. They lead me to a small room and locked the door as I entered, or rather after I entered it. The main muscled security guard pulled out a gun in a plastic bag. “Cool” I thought in my mind, but I didn’t bring my gun. I’m not a terrorist and only a retard would bring his gun to an airport. I was in for a world of trouble who did this frame job to me. Then it hit me, Dillian! I had taken Dillian’s bag by mistake and now his blind stupidity would spell doom for me. I should explain that Dillian loves airsoft and probably took one of his toys with him. He wasn’t a terrorist or anything but liking airsoft comes close.

The guards herded me out of the room and shoved me against the wall in a forceful yet very clearly trained manner. My mind was racing I knew what would come and it would make me seem more gay then anything that had come before it. The guard made me spread my legs by hitting my calves with his rubber hitting stick so I had no choice but to go spread eagle. What was I to do if I didn’t want my life to come crumbling down? The man started fondling the sweet folds of my legs moving slowly upwards towards my male hetrosexual penis. Desperate i started yelling “I am not horny!” Over and over, louder and louder. the man continued by reaching into my pockets and fished out my sex condoms which I keep around for safe sex. He looked at them for a while. I panicked and yelled “Those condoms are for straight sex only we won’t be needing them!” Making a grammatical error in my panicked state. The fondling continued until I felt a third hand on my shoulder, I started crying as I imagined myself engaged in a passionate romp with two other men. It was Dillian’s hand and he told me he cleared up the airsoft problem and we should go board the plane. Mentally I promised I would make him pay for what he did.

My detention had taken a very long time and I barely had any time to buy stuff at the shops that litter the airport like garbage litters a downtown street. We boarded the plane and I sat down next to a crying baby while the seat next to Dillian was empty just to piss him off. I fell asleep onboard the plane and dreamt of the hot babes I would meet in this world of tropical fun (the Caribbean). I was rudely awakened by the plane’s very bumpy and unprofessional landing. I got out of the plane and was shocked to see the horrifying beauty of this tropical paradise. It only took a short while before Ricardo took to his usual fucking tricks and started bossing us around instructing us to follow him to the hotel he chose. He had a small conversation with the register man in some language that wasn’t English and then turned towards the group. He started handing out the hotel keys and the one I received froze my very soul. It was a one bed bedroom with a bed for two people, I’d have to share with Dillian which would be very gay. I turned to DIllian and looked him into his beady rat eyes and told him about the dire situation. He offered to sleep on the floor but that would mean he might be able to sneak a peek at my junk from down below when I got up to piss at night (I must sleep naked). So instead I offered to sleep in the bathtub filled with pillows for comfort. Dillian agreed.

Several days passed and needless to say I hit it off with the tropical chickatas like a baseball player hits it off with balls. I was partying in the beaches and boogie-ing around the palm trees. On the 4th to last day of the trip our boss expected us to go to a happy go lucky Carribean styled lu-aaua on the nearby boat docks docked at a lake, it was a lake on an island. I had to go mostly to keep Ricardo happy because I couldn’t lose my job. When I got there the party was rather boring and it didn’t have any alcohol. It was really lame, that was until I spotted a glorious stunner on a speedboat anchored at the docks. I approached her with my confident stride and before long she melted like slime in my hand. She recognised my authority and asked me to pilot her speedboat because she knew I had the skills to pilot it like no man before me.

So there I was, plowing the waves like a very horny Neptune. I conquered the sea as easily as I conquered the hot babe and was making top speeds that would make anyone’s jaw drop. Then I saw it, a strange otherworldly creature. What I saw looked like a man, a pale goblin of a man. Small yet radiating evil intent. It was bobbing up and down in an innertube. and was resting a tallboy precariously on the rim of his oversized pool tire. Since this was on a lake this was a lake monster. I knew what had to be done. I could not allow this filthy creature to live. Before when I came into contact with the supernatural I turned tail and ran. Now I was convinced to remain brave and do the right thing. I turned the prowl of the boat to face the goblin and put the speedboat boat speed to full steam ahead. At a rapid pace i was skimming towards the bobbing beast. Then I felt it, first a bump and then the sound of the propellor shredding up bone and flesh (and innertube). I returned the boat to the dock and bragged about killing a goblin to Ricardo who told me to go back to the hotel. We went home later that week and aside from finding one of Dilians pubes in the drain of the bath it was a very good time.

To this day I still recollect the joy of hitting the creature with my boat. I am currently saving up the money to buy a speedboat and have divided half the budget I was saving for a pulling tractor into it. I still have fond memories of the trip which will often be undermined by Dillian who disputes the facts pointing out how I never was on a speedboat. Sometimes he even claims we never went to the Caribbean and us taking an airplane and staying at a hotel did happen, but that was to attend our uncles funeral in Minnesota, and also I did claim to have hit a goblin at a work party but that was in a local high school gym. He claims I combined these two events as well as adding a Caribbean theme to sound cooler. Dillian, as always, was talking shit. He always does this to make me look bad. This is all real and it all really happened to me and that makes it scary. Got it?

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