Berryboy

This article needs moar images. You can help by adding moar images.

Berryboy is the creation of a sick fuck namefagess known as cannes (Real name Alex) used to fulfill her fetishes and troll /co/. He is an XBOX HUEG anthropomorphic blueberry that acts like a scared retarded toddler. In addition to impersonating her original character, cannes abuses him while simultaneously demanding everybody pay her post-natal abortion affection. Berryboy has two little brothers called the Berrybabies because retards come in multiples.

Fapfiction

cannes insists people write a fanfiction about her creations. She provides the following guidelines:

1. Absolutely NOTHING sexual at ALL. Hugs, rubbing his belly and complimenting him is fine, and a kiss on the cheek is the farthest you can go.
2. Berryboy is an anthropomorphasized blueberry with infantile characteristics. All he does is eat, cry (with tears), and flap his hands.
3. He is almost completely immobile so you must roll him everywhere. The only mobility he has is when you take him out to the garden or put him in his play-pen where he can waddle VERY SLOWLY so long as the ground is soft, flat and without obstacles.
4. The way he speaks is that of a stereo-typical toddler. Can't pronounce 'r's or 'L's, except he can pronounce L when it's the beginning of a work IE Love.
5. Berryboy doesn't excrete therefore doesn't have genitals.
6. The story must have LOTS of detail and a good length.
7. It must start with Berryboy being loved and sticking to his daily schedule (I'll post it after this) but MUST end with him being BRUTALLY tortured and dismembered IE one of his hands being sawn off and biting off his nose and making him eat it.
8. Berryboy only has soft toys; all he can do with them is hold them and flap them in one of his hands.

The story needs to be a VERY good length. Like a short story.

That is all.

The schedule for looking after Berryboy:

8:30 am... Go into the nursery and wake Berryboy up. He normally cries so he needs to be comforted and fed.

9:30 am... Either put Berryboy in the play pen or take him to creche.
If in play pen, keep an eye on him incase he begins to cry or drops one of his toys.

10:00 am... Roll him out to the garden so that he can waddle around for a little bit and look at the flowers.
If he wants a flower, you must pick it for him but he is only allowed one a day.

11:00am... Read Berryboy a story. Normally something like a nursery rhyme or a fairytale.
Put on his mixed tape (contains songs like "if you're happy and you know it," etc. Something for Berryboy to flap his hands and wiggle his feet to).

12:00 pm... Feed Berryboy some lunch.

12:30 pm... Berryboy's nap. Roll him into his nursery and close the curtains, make sure he's not berry scared.

3:00 pm Wake Berryboy up, comfort him and show him some love to stop him from crying.
Give him some afternoon tea and put him in his play pen. Keep an eye on him. Put on the tv so he can watch his shows.
His favourites are Dora the explorer, Teletubbies and Barney.

5:30 pm... Feed him his dinner.

6:30 pm... Put him to bed.

Hints:
When Berryboy cries, give him a hug or rub his belly to comfort him.
Sometimes giving him a blanket or a cuddly toy is nice. Do his if he cries and says he wants love.

If Berryboy is at creche, you can do what you want for the day, but pick him up and 4:30 and put him in his play pen 'til dinner time.

The asspie herself

Not much is known about cannes, other than that she may have a cousin named Sharon Thomas in the United Kingdom helping to feed her fetish.

Videos

Previous Video | Next Video

Copypasta

An odd change

When I first found Berryboy, he had been picking flowers in a meadow. Don't ask me how, because God only knows how a great, bloated, blueberry boy had managed to move himself into a meadow of flowers and actually be able to pick them up. My only guess is that someone had put him there; but who?

In his left hand he held two flowers, and next to the right side of him was the patch he had picked them from. When Berryboy saw me, he began to cry. It was obvious he was upset because he didn't know who I was. I decided to approach him so that he would know that I didn't mean him any harm. As I carefully walked up to him (not too quickly and making sure I didn't trod on any flowers so that I didn't upset him), he began flapping his hands which caused him to drop his flowers. This seemed to upset him even more and as I got closer I could see tears running down his cheeks, down his round, blue body and onto the grass. I looked him square in the eyes and could see how scared he was, so I said "Don't worry! I'm not going to harm you!" I gave him a hug and rubbed his belly, hoping it would comfort him. I noticed that his crying seemed to recede the more I comforted him. Finally I asked him "What is your name?" But the poor thing didn't answer, merely looked at me with his bright, blue, frightened eyes. "Are you all here by yourself?" Berryboy nodded. I didn't understand: how could he have moved himself? Someone of his girth surely would leave a trail? Maybe he didn't want contact at the moment, should I leave him? "I think I had better leave you..." I told him, but as I began to walk away I heard a small cry. I turned around and tears were running down his blue, chubby cheeks. "No! Pwease! Help me! I'm sced!" Berryboy cried. He looked so upset, and I still didn't think he would be able to look after himself. Maybe I should take him back to my place? Would I know how to look after him? Well, he certainly didn't want me to leave, and he sure as hell was upset and scared. But taking him home was a big decision: I would have to feed him, wash him, love him, and look out for him (IE keep him away from anything sharp), so I needed to get more information from Berryboy himself first. "What are you scared of?" Berryboy flapped his hands "Evwyfing!" Oh dear. I was not about to make him endure this any longer, so I had no choice but to take him home with me. I saw the flowers he had dropped and picked them up. "You like flowers, don't you?" I asked him. Berryboy nodded.

It was around about 3 in the afternoon when I had managed to roll Berryboy to the front of my house. The whole time I had been rolling him, Berryboy had been completely silent, not said a word but I had seen tears dropping from his face. He must have been in a terrible and extremely mysterious living condition to be like this. "This is where I live. It's called a house." I felt ridiculous telling him this! But how was I supposed to know? He acted as though he didn't even know what I was! Berryboy sobbed "I know." I managed to roll him into the living room (via the garage) and positioned him onto his belly. "This is where you're going to live from now on, is that ok?" I asked him. Through all the sadness, fear and tears, Berryboy managed a small smile. "Now, is there anything you want?" "I want love," Berryboy replied. "Ummm, surely you want to be more specific than that, yeah?" "I want love!" Berryboy cried. "I WANT LOVE!!!"

That really did seem to be the most specific you could get. I gave him a cuddle, which made him smile, and then gave him a blanket so he had a little bit of comfort. He seemed to be a tiny bit happier after I showed him love, so I though 'Why not continue?' I put a plate of waffles in front of him, and went out of the room to get a vase for his flowers. When I came back I could see tears running down his cheeks again. "Oh I'm so sorry! I completely forgot!" How could I have been so stupid? He cant feed himself! I began feeding Berryboy the waffles, and he seemed a little better. When he was all done, I gave him another hug so that he was getting the love he needed. It was not long after when he began to drift off to sleep. The blanket only went over a portion of Berryboy, but it didn't seem to matter. He looked comfortable. I went and sat down on the couch, just for a little rest. '...maybe later I could... give him a wash... and... pick flowers and.........'

When I woke up it was early dawn. I could hear very faint sobbing, and then I remembered. I jumped up and perked my head towards Berryboy. I thought he was crying. I made my way over to him as fast as I could and saw he had indeed been crying. "What's wrong? Why are you crying?" "I'm bewwy scared!" Berryboy replied. I guess this was going to be a little more difficult than I thought, but I felt so sorry for him. He deserved a hug. The next few months of having Berryboy live with me created a routine. I would wash him daily, take him out for rolls, feed him, etc. I had to watch him 24/7 because the moment he began to feel a little lonely, unloved or unwanted, uncomfortable, nervous, anxious, scared, he would begin to cry. The tiniest thing could make him upset, so someone had to constantly be there to show him love and comfort. Needless to say, my life changed tremendously. I had to work harder so that I could look after him, I had to keep him comfortable and take him out for rolls. All most everyday, when I was rolling him down the street, I would get not confused looks from people, but angry and hateful glares. Occasionally someone would shout out an insult which caused Berryboy to start crying, or throw a rock at him. I really didn't understand. What was everyone's problem? Over time Berryboy would speak a little bit more, to the point where he was almost happy with the love I gave him. But also, as time went by, people looked as though they got more and more fed up. The amount of insults per day towards him increased, let alone the glares. It was saturday morning, around about 10am when we headed out. Berryboy had already been fed and washed, and now I was rolling him to the meadow to pick flowers. It was a beautiful day, birds were singing in the trees and the cloudless blue sky filled the horizon. On the way to the meadow we passed several houses, including that of Mrs Margaret Summers, an old lady well known throughout the community for her gardening skills. She had a very large, red rose bush out front which immediately grabbed Berryboy's attention. "Shawon," he had asked, "can I have a wose?" "Sorry, but they're not ours." I replied. Can you guess what happened next? Oh yes, he began to cry. I could see his tears dropping on the ground. "Well, maybe just a few then." Still to this very day I don't know what urged me to pick ALL the roses, but the fact of the matter is, I did. I took every single one and was about to hand them to Berryboy when we both noticed the hooklike thorns. This made Berryboy cry harder. Crap, we were doing so well! He was beginning to cry less! I gave him a cuddle, but it was just then that I noticed a huge mob of peope walking towards us from the direction we were going, and the door of the house opening too. I quickly hid the roses down my shirt. "My roses! My beautiful roses!" The voice of Margaret Summers cried. "It's Berryboy! Kill him! Kill him!" Screamed the voices of the people in the mob. "What happened to my roses?! Did you take them!" Margaret hissed at us. "No!" I lied. It was not long before Margaret and the mob of people had surrounded us. Berryboy was crying so hard he was almost screaming at all the harassment and hatred directed towards him. The mob was holding up needles, pitchforks, red hot pokers, some of them even had guns. "Death to the weak, bloated, blueberry!" They hollered, closing in on the poor thing. You bet this was the greatest terror Berryboy had ever seen! He was screaming, flapping his hands and even shaking his feet, but still the mob got closer. "STOP, OR I'LL CALL THE POLICE!" I shouted at the top of my lungs, and surprisingly, the mob halted. "What is it you all want?!" A large, middle aged man with tanned skin and black hair stepped forward, indicating that he was the leader of the mob. "We want death to this blown up menace!" He growled, glaring at Berryboy the whole time. Berryboy looked at him side-long, tears still rolling down his cheeks and onto the pavement but had practically been scared into silence by the man. "We don't want him here!" This puzzled me tremendously. "Why not?" I asked. Why were they so harsh to Berryboy? I didn't understand! "You mean you don't know? You don't know about this worthless shit that does nothing but take up space?" "No?" "I don't believ- oh what's the use. I'll tell you anyway. Several weeks ago, when you brought this piece of filth into town, it naturally made all of us ask questions. What was he? Who was he? Why was he here? All he had done is beg for love, and cried. He is nothing but a liability, and gives the town a bad name. We think it'd be best to put him down, so that he does not burden us any longer." "But how does he burden YOU? I'M the one looking after him, and it's ok with me!" "Well, as a community he is a burden upon all of us, but if that is the way you look at it. We will respect your individual rights. But I am warning you, to euthanise him would be the best option." Before I could say anything the man turned around and walked away, along with the rest of the mob who were uttering swears, curses and mutters of hatred towards Berryboy. This still left Margaret, however. Margaret knew that I had taken the roses. She knew that I had taken them for Berryboy, but she merely smiled, which seemed incredibly strange. "I assure you I did NOT take the flowers!" I lied again, but Margaret simply went right up to my ear and whispered "Doesn't he annoy you? Make you mad?" And with that she turned around and went back inside. I turned to face Berryboy. There was a puddle of tears on the sidewalk but Berryboy still didn't make a sound. "I think I had better take you home." Berryboy's eyes were closed the whole time, just letting out tears. He refused to speak. Does Berryboy make me angry? Does he irritate me? Phrases synonymous to Margaret's echoed throughout my head and wouldn't stop. Don't you just want to torture and maim him? No! This is ridiculous! She's poisoned my thoughts as revenge for stealing her roses. That's what she's done! But as I rolled Berryboy down the driveway, so many thoughts had run through my head that for fraction of a split second, my hand itched to strike him. I got him inside and put a blanket on his back. He finally opened his eyes and he started sobbing. 'Poor thing!' I thought. He needed some comfort, so I quickly grabbed a cuddly toy. I placed it in his left hand and gave him a hug. "Are you feeling better now?" "I want fwowers," Berryboy sobbed. It was just then I remembered the roses down my shirt! They had been there so long I had forgotten they were there. I tried pulling them out but the thorns had snagged on my singlet. Great, just my luck. Stolen roses and a damaged singlet. It took me a minute, but I finally got them out and placed them on the table. All of a sudden, that feeling of hatred I got when rolling Berryboy down the driveway shot through me, just for a second, but longer than before. "Here's your flowers," I growled. Berryboy grew more upset at my harsh tone and began crying. "Waaaahhh, I want love! I want love!" Berryboy cried, dropping his cuddly toy and his blanket falling off his back. I quickly picked up the toy, placed the blanket onto Berryboy's back again, and gave him a hug. He seemed a little better now. "I want love," Berryboy cried again. This time the feeling of hatred came back, but only as a seedling planted in fetile, moist soil. I began feeding him icecream. That would be ok wouldn't it? He won't be able to cry this way! And besides, I have 17 more boxes! I kept scooping up the icecream and feeding it to Berryboy despite his slight objection after the 4th scoop. His slight objection grew almost at the same speed as that of the seed of hatred planted inside me. By the time Berryboy had finished the first box of icecream, I was only just containing myself from harming him. He flapped his hands "Nnnh. So full," he sobbed. He was already full of blueberry juice, so that didn't surprise me. "How about some more?" I laughed as I got the second box out of the freezer. "No, too full. I want love. Dose people were big meanies," he cried out to me. I walked right up to him with the new box and opened it. "They were weren't they! But you were very brave. Now, open up!" I held the scoop of icecream towards his mouth. "No, no! Don't want icecweem, want love! Want love!" He seriously had been neglected, which probably explained why he wanted love so much. The seed of hatred had begun sprouting. "No!" I snapped. "You're having icecream!" Obviously this made Berryboy begin to cry, but I forcefed him the icecream despite all the tears. By the time I had forced him through half the container, he REALLY began to object. "Too full! Don't want icecweem! No!" But the hatred vine had grown too much for me to give it the chop. I just shoved the icecream into his mouth and eventually had to pinch his ear so that he would eat the next scoop. Between each scoop, Berryboy let out "Pwease! Stop!" and "Too full!" the best that he could. The problem was, he had made such a big deal out of everything that I didn't know if this was dangerous for him or not. 'The boy who cried wolf,' I giggled. For some reason I didn't care though. I kept feeding him until I heard a small *slash* sound. Berryboy then began screaming. Really screaming. I heard the sound of liquid on the carpet and saw that on his right side, a small part of his skin had split open and was leaking blueberry juice. I could only imagine how painful it must have been for him, but at the time I was too absorbed in hatred. "Oh dear! My poor carpet! Maybe we can block it with some icecream," I held a scoop of icecream to Berryboy's mouth but he didn't stop screaming! I tried to take my chances but when he saw the icecream he shut his mouth tight. But that didn't stop me: I smeared the icecream onto his closed mouth so hard that I began to push his head into his round, blue body; causing the juice to flow out faster and harder; causing Berryboy to scream in pain and allowing me to shove more icecream into his mouth. But he kept screaming. "Oh shut up!" I yelled at him, went to the cupboard and grabbed a roll of duct tape and kneeled down and the tear in Berryboy's skin. It took a second to patch up, but Berryboy kept screaming in pain. "I WANT LOVE! I WANT FWOWERS!" Berryboy kept screaming, causing rage to swell up inside me like you wouldn't believe. I went right up close to Berryboy's face and could smell his icecream breath. I began licking the icecream off his cheeks and around his mouth when a rage attack came upon me. I bit down hard into poor Berryboy's chubby cheek. I bit so hard that I could taste the mixture of tears and juice as it flooded into my mouth, and with Berryboy screaming into my ear. I don't know how Margaret gave me this rage and strength, but it didn't matter at the time. All I wanted was to make Berryboy suffer. I kept sinking my teeth down into his cheek until my teeth met. I pulled back until I was face to face with Berryboy, a huge chunk taken out of his right cheek, torn veins spouting blueberry juice. My right ear was ringing (Berryboy had been screaming in it) and I spat out the chunk of his cheek into my hand. "You see this?! See this?!" I yelled at him with maniacal laughter. Berryboy just kept screaming and flapping his hands. When he cried, and I could tell that the tears would cause his wound to sting. "It's your cheek!" I laughed. Berryboy squealed and I shoved the chunk into his mouth. "Eat it! Eat it now!" I digged my fingernails into his face. I could feel Berryboy try to scream so I slapped him HARD across his left cheek. "EAT IT NOW!" I repeated and slapped him again. I watched his pained expression as he chewed and swallowed. I could see a deep blue sludge dripping from his wound. I tasted it: it tasted like blueberry juice. "You are blueberry through and through aren't you!" I laughed at him as he screamed in pain. "And one thing I've noticed is that blueberries don't normally have hands, or feet or even a head! Maybe I should make an adjustment?" "No! No! Pwease! I just want some love!" "And 'fwowers' too?" I mocked. "You want 'fwowers? Here's your 'fwowers.' I picked up most of the roses (leaving 2 on the table) and shoved them all thorny-stem first into poor Berryboy's mouth. I could hear him try to scream as the thorns cut deeply into the inside of his mouth. I pushed down on his head and upwards on his jaw forcing him to bite into the roses, tears flowing down his cheeks. I picked up one of the roses on the table and grabbed his right hand and pinned the rose into his palm so that he couldn't drop it. I then squeezed his hand shut, doing the same with the other rose to his other hand a moment later. I took a step back to observe my work: Berryboy squealing with his cheek bitten off, 12 roses stuck in his mouth maiming it, and one on each of his hands. Every sound he made annoyed me. It made me so mad. So I kicked Berryboy HARD. "Stop crying!" I screamed at him. "Shut up you worthless, bloated mass!" I kicked him again, my toenail penetrating his skin, causing another leak. Berryboy squealed at the pain. I grabbed all the roses in his mouth and jerked them out as hard as I could, but I felt a little force. Force meant that the thorns had hooked into parts of his mouth and pulled them out with them. I could see the thorns pulling out much of the inside of his mouth, some of his tongue and his lips. Berryboy began screaming and crying again as blueberry juice leaked from his mouth, down his chin and body and onto the carpet. "I'm sorry but were you trying to say something?" I shouted at him as loud as possible into his ear. "Bleu blaar bliiii" Berryboy tried to say with his maimed mouth. I punched him as hard as I could in the face. But once wasn't enough. Again I punched him in the face, this time permanently breaking his nose, and then again pushing his nose into his face, and then again and again and again to the point I was pounding on his crying, chubby face. I yelled at him "What was that?! I don't understand you, speak clearer!" "Bla byge bfff" Berryboy tried again, and flapped his hands. "I'm sorry but I don't think you're gonna need your hands again. Maybe I should make you into a proper blueberry like I suggested before?" Berryboy cried and screamed.

Well, Berryboy certainly had changed afterwards. Rather than disposing of the hands (like I had done with his feet) I had carelessly sewn them on to Berryboy's lipless mouth. His left hand as the top lip, his right as the bottom. Blueberry juice leaked from the wounds on his face, the splitted skin on his round body and the stumps from where his limbs had been, but at least they were painful for Berryboy! The man who led the mob's name was Simon Cutler, whom I managed to contact. He gladly 'took care' of the 'changed' Berryboy. He arrived with a whole lot of other peole carrying whips and pokers. The last I ever saw of Berryboy was him crying, begging for love and screaming as the people roughly kicked him away, but it wasn't the last I heard of him! His screams could be heard all over town! When they exploded him and created a large blueberry pie, Simon had noticed that his head and shoulders were lying on the ground after the explosion; still intact and still alive. They all took great delight stabbing him in the face with a broken bottle and twisting it into his scared face. By the time everyone was done kicking Berryboy and stomping on his head, he was smeared all over the ground.

And to think, all innocent Berryboy wanted love.

I snapped

His arrival was unexpected. I thought it was impulsive of her to do it, but then again she was a very impulsive woman my mother was. She'd gone out, as she normally does, to hike through the bush. Well, it wasn't really a bush, it was more like a meadow blended in with a forest which had a trail slithering through it for local campers. "I was walking the usual route," she had told us, "when I thought I heard crying." The crying, she had told us, sounded exactly like that of an infant's; which had led her to assume that there was a woman giving birth in the area. "I looked around to see where it was coming from, when I saw their tent a short distance away." She described the tent as large and blue, eminating a baby's cries from it.

Assuming the woman was in there she made her way towards it, but she had a strange feeling of doubt that there was more going on than she thought. "As I looked harder I saw that the figure was round, like a giant sphere, and completely blue. But... on top was a head, looking down on everything and everyone. It was flapping two tiny, blue, vestigial hands poking out the side of its massive, round body." She had realised that this seemed be an anthropomorphicized blueberry. "Why, he's just a boy! But he's a blueberry!" She was thinking as she carefully approached him. With each step Berryboy cried - the cries sounding exactly like that of an infant's - and she was cautious as to not make too much noise to scare the creature. "I was not worried about him being scared away as I assumed he was either immobile or his movement was unbelieveably slow and limited, but I could see he was distressed, and he was looking right at me."

I was in the kitchen having a drink when I could see out the window Mum driving the silver pick-up truck down the driveway. What caught my eye was a large, blue mass carried in the trailer. I couldn't think of what it could be; not a single idea came into my head. But as the vehicle got closer I saw a head on top of the round mass, tears streaming from it's eyes. 'What the fuck is that?' I had thought to myself, while sprinting out the door and onto the driveway. Mum pulled in and I ran straight up to the blue mass, but before I got within a metre of the mass I heard a baby start crying! I looked around to see where the baby was but then I saw Berryboy's head: He was crying. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Mum screeched at me. "What the-" "You frightened him!" "What's going on?!" I screamed at Mum, as she untied the ropes holding Berryboy to the truck. Mum explained to me that Berryboy was all alone in the forest and was very scared, so we were going to look after him from now on. We set up a nursery for him, bought some cuddly toys and a play-pen, Mum even gave up her job so that she could look after the creature. She was totally devoted to looking after him, and my 7-year-old sister, Kim, loved Berryboy to bits! She would often hold little tea parties with Berryboy, his cuddly toys and maybe one of her friends, as well as pick flowers with him. I, however, did not like him one bit. The moment I saw Berryboy I loathed him. Everything about him. The way he spoke, the way he looked, how he was so innocent and was alway crying, how he had become part of the family. I despised his very nature. I despised him. We all had to make sacrifices for Berryboy, I had to baby-sit Berryboy whenever my parents went away, and it irritated me like you wouldn't believe. Here was his daily schedule:

8:30 am... Go into the nursery and wake Berryboy up. He would cry so I had to comfort and feed him.

9:30 am... Either put Berryboy in the play pen or take him to the creche. If he went to creche I had a free day until 4:30 pm. If in play pen, I had to keep an eye on him incase he began to cry or he dropped one of his toys.

10:00 am... I had to roll him out to the garden so that he could waddle around for a little bit and look at the flowers. If he wanted a flower, I had to pick it for him but he was only allowed one a day.

11:00am... Read Berryboy a story. Normally something like a nursery rhyme or a fairytale. Put on his mixed tape (contains songs like "if you're happy and you know it," etc. Something for Berryboy to flap his hands and wiggle his feet to).

12:00 pm... Feed Berryboy some lunch.

12:30 pm... Berryboy's nap. I had to roll him into his nursery and close the curtains, making sure he wasn't scared.

3:00 pm I had to wake Berryboy up, comfort him and show him some love to stop him from crying. Give him some afternoon tea and put him in his play pen. Keep an eye on him. Put on the tv so he can watch his shows. His favourites were Dora the explorer, Teletubbies and Barney.

5:30 pm... Feed him his dinner.

6:30 pm... Put him to bed.

Almost every weekend I had to do this rather than go into town with my friends, and all that did was make me despise Berryboy even more, which at the time I thought was impossible. Speaking of friends, they had a few things to say about me. I would get a lot of "Wow you're family's fucked up." One time when we went to the mall... with my family, and we had to take Berryboy with us. I don't know why. We were signing him in to the creche when a few people I knew were there. Oh they pointed and laughed, making me feel uncomfortable and VERY angry at Berryboy. Another time I was at the local swimming pool, and Mum decided it was a good idea for Berryboy to come as well. I was in the pool, splashing around when I saw over in the kiddie/paddling pool Berryboy. He was lying on his belly in the middle of it, with my mother gently splashing him and Kim playing with him and the pool toys. The very sight filled me with rage, and yet I didn't know why.

It was early morning, October 30th. At 8:30 my alarm clock went, which pissed me off as I normally would sleep in. Instead, I was going to have to look after Berryboy all day. I got up, got dressed and slowly opened the door to the nursery. Berryboy was lying on his Belly on the nice soft carpet my parents got him, with a blanket on his back. "Berryboy," I spoke softly, being careful not to frighten him. "Berryboy, it's time to wake up." Berryboy's hands flinched, and then he veeeerrry slowly opened his eyes. He realised he was tired so he began crying and flapping his tiny hands uselessly. "Aaaaahhh! I want love!" He cried, tears rolling down his cheeks. I rushed over to him and gave him a hug. "There there, Berryboy! Don't cry!" I rubbed his belly until he stopped crying. "Now lets go and get you some breakfast!" I rolled Berryboy into the kitchen and opened up the cupboard. "What would you like?" "Ceweal! Ceweal!" He yelled as he flapped his tiny hands. "What kind?" "Wice pops!" "Rice pops it is." I poured them into the bowl followed by the milk and rolled Berryboy over to the table and placed his cereal in front of him. I brought out a tea spoon and began feeding it into his slightly-smaller-than-mine mouth. He had almost finished the whole bowl when he shut his mouth tight, began squealing and shaking his head. "No!" He squealed. "Too full!" "<sigh> Ok." I emptied out the rest of the cereal and placed the bowl in the sink, Berryboy still at the table, flapping his hands. I opened to gate to his play pen and very gently rolled Berryboy into it so that he ended up on his two feet. I placed one of his cuddly toys in his right hand and closed the gate. He waddled around his play pen, flapping the cuddly toy he was holding until he said "I want dat one!" I would pick up a different toy and give it to Berryboy as he dropped the other. He then continued to waddle round until it was 10:00am. He dropped his toy as I opened the gate and rolled him out into the garden. The flowers were in bloom and it almost pained me to know that we were going to lose one of them to a death by endless flapping. Berryboy waddled up and down the flowers, admiring how pretty they were. But how slow he was! It took him 5 minutes to get from oneside to the other, and he could only move on soft, flat, obstacleless terrain. After a while he saw a yellow flower and stopped waddling. "I want dat fwower!" he flapped his tiny hands. "Which one?" I asked. "Da yelow one!" I picked the flower and put it into one of his hands. He then continued slowly waddling/shuffling around until it was time 11:00am. I rolled him inside to the living room, and got out the cassette player. I got out Berryboy's mixed tape, put it in the player and pressed start:

If you're happy and you know it clap your hands. Berryboy flapped his hands in rhythm to the claps *flap!* *flap!* If you're happy and you know it clap your hands.

• flap!* *flap!*

If you're happy and you know it and you really want to show it if you're happy and you know it clap your hands!

• flap!* *flap!*

If you're happy and you know it stomp your feet Berryboy wiggled his feet in rhythm to the stops *wiggle* *wiggle* if you're happy and you know it stomp your feet

• wiggle* *wiggle*

if you're happy and you know it and you really want to show it if you're happy and you know it stop your feet!

• wiggle* *wiggle*

If you're happy and you know it nod your head

• nod* *nod*

if you're happy and you know it nod your head

• nod* *nod*

if you're happy and you know it and you really want to show it if you're happy and you know it nod you're head!

The cassette finished the song and flicked to the next. I turned the machine off. "Moar! Moar!" Berryboy yelled as he flapped his hands. "No, Berryboy. It's storytime now." I got out a book from his nursery and began reading it to him. It was unbearably childish and predictable, but Berryboy was entertained, I wondered if Berryboy only liked looking at the pictures... The story seemed unbearably long for me, but too short for Berryboy. "Moar! Moar!" Berryboy quickly flapped his tiny hands and yelled when I finished, but it was now time for his lunch. His lunch was some peas, boiled carrots and potato mashed together and heated up in a bowl. I rolled him over to the table began feeding him his meal with a small spoon. The food was nice and warm and Berryboy was pleased as I fed it to him and he flapped his hands. It was not long before he had finished the whole bowl and it was time for his nap. "Good boy, Berryboy! You finished the whole thing!" Berryboy flapped his little hands. "Nnnh. So full. Want love" "It's time for your nap now." "Want love. Want love! WANT LOVE!" Berryboy began panicking so I quickly gave him a hug and rubbed his Belly. Mum had told me that Berryboy was very sneaky in some of the things he did. "Ok, I've given you some love, but now it's time for your nap." Berryboy squealed and sort of recoiled his tiny head into his massive round body, like a tortoise going into its shell. He shook his head quickly too. "No! No! Not tired! Want love! I want love!" Ah. That was it. Whenever he panicks he yells he wants love so people will comfort him, but he was doing this to get out of his nap. He was tired, but he didn't know it. What should I do? Appease him? Or do the opposite? "Berryboy, I've given you a hug. Now you need to have a nap." Berryboy cried and flapped his hands. The tears rolled down his chubby little blue cheeks and down his belly. I rolled him into the nursery against his objection. I put a blanket on his back and gave him a hug to comfort him, but he wouldn't stop crying. "Berryboy, you're tired. You need to take a nap!" Berryboy shut his eyes tight shut so he didn't need to look at me, and he shook his head from side to side. "No! No! No! Not tired! Want love!" "But I already gave you some! Please don't stress me out!" I panicked and didn't know what to do! How did my mum handle these situations? Appeasement seemed like the only option. "Berryboy, I'll give you some love so long as you promise you'll go to sleep. Deal?" "Yes! Yes! I want love!" I gave Berryboy a hug, rubbed his belly gently and gave him a little butterfly kiss one of his cheeks. "Ok," I said softly, letting go of Berryboy. "Time for you to go to sleep." But Berryboy started crying again and flapping his little hands uselessly. "No! No! Not tired!" Berryboy blubbered with such sorrow. I didn't say anything. He broke his promise, and I could see right through his sneaky trick. I closed the curtains and closed the door, leaving behind Berryboy's cries. It was not long before the cries turned into screams. When I say screams, I mean he was really SCREAMING. I thought he was just desperate for attention, so I continued walking. But he didn't stop, he just kept on screaming. A minute went by and it was only then I heard that he was not screaming for love. I rushed into his nursery and turned on the lights. Nothing had happened, only Berryboy was screaming. "What's wrong?!" I yelled, panicking and thinking he was in serious danger. "It was daak! I couldn't see! It was bewwy scewwy!" Tears were streaming from his eyes and he was flapping his little hands like wings. I guess it was my fault - I had forgotten one of Mum's warnings: Berryboy was VERY scared of the dark. "I WANT LOVE!" Berryboy screamed. I gave Berryboy a hug and comforted him until he stopped crying. I sat there rubbing his belly as he slowly drifted off to sleep. I snuck out the room and quietly closed the door, being very careful not to wake him. It was 1:00pm. Great - it had taken me half an hour to put Berryboy to sleep - now I only had 2 hours of precious free time. Could I go meet up with friends? No, 2 hours isn't long enough. Should I study? No, I need a good break. It was Halloween tomorrow, maybe I could rent a movie? Nah, can't be fucked. I sat down on the couch and turn on the TV and my laptop simultaneously, letting out a sigh of relief at being able to relax. I was filled with rage when the two hours were up and I heard crying. I closed unplugged my laptop, and placed it on the table. I walked over to the nursery and opened the door, and yes, Berryboy was crying. His tears were dripping onto the carpet and he looked quite scared. He said nothing. I rolled him out into his play pen and gave him one of his cuddly toys. He flapped it in his left hand and waddled around in his pen for several minutes. I was downloading a film when he dropped his stuffed animal. For a minute he was just sitting there, not moving or making a sound; which is what make me look up. A tear was rolling down one of his chubbly little cheeks and he was looking right at me at me; just staring me right in the eyes with a sorrowful expression. I pulled out my earphones, got up, and walked over to him, not making a sound either. "You dropped your toy," I said while picking it up. "Here you go!" But Berryboy didn't move or make a sound, just looked at me. "What is it?" I asked. "I wanna watch bahney," said Berryboy. "Sure thing!" I replied, half-glad he was ok, yet still loathing him. I placed my arms around his huge, round body, my chin resting on his belly, and turned the juice-filled blueberry towards the TV with him flapping his little hands in the process. I placed the DVD into the player and turned on the TV, pressed play, etc, etc. For over an hour Berryboy sat there staring at the singing dinosaur and children, occasionally flapping his hands. I wondered how he could possibly find that entertaining, but I paid little attention to it. 5:30 came but the episode hadn't finished. "Berryboy, it's dinnertime." Berryboy flapped his tiny hands uselessly and squealed. "Nnnno!!! Not finished! Don't want dinner yet, pwease!" "Hmmmm, ok. But when the episode finishes I'm going to turn that off." This (luckily) didn't take too long, but it also gave me enough time to fix him some soup. I rolled him over to the table and fed him, the whole time Berryboy going on and on about what happened. "And den *slurps spoonful* dey went outside and pwayed at da pwagwound and den dey saw *slurp* a wed cah and dey dwove in it *slurp* and..." The whole time I was nodding to show I acknowledged what he was saying but thinking to myself how pathetic this was, and how I couldn't give a fuck about what the purple dinosaur said or sang about. Berryboy finished his soup and began looking quite tired. It was 6:10 and I realised I needed to have bathed him sometime today. Fuuuuuuuckin' hell, that meant I was going to have to listen to him blabber on about 'Bahney' and the 'Pwetty fwowers' he saw today... Ffffuuuuuuuck... "Ok Berryboy, It's time for your bath now. Do you want me to put in some nice, fluffy bubbles in?" Berryboy lit up and flapped his hands like wings. "Yea! Yea! I love bubbles!" I rolled Berryboy to our industrial-sized bath we had built for him over a year ago, a little while after Mum found him, and turned on the warm water. I also poured in half a bottle of bubble-bath mixture until all the bubbles had frothed up and the nice warm water had reached the right level. I rolled him in so that he was lying on his belly, the bubbles reaching his little hands and feet. Bathing Berryboy was an extremely tedious process as I had to scrub his whole body, including his face which sometimes made him cry, and had to wash his hair. Once again, however, I was lucky enough for Berryboy to not go on about Barney or something ridiculous that he thought I gave a fuck about. It was almost just about 6:30 when I had finished drying him off. I rolled him into the nursery and put on his night-light, put a blanket on his back, gave him some love so that he could sleep comfortably and then closed the door. FINALLY I was free! I could do what ever I wanted! It was not long before I was lazing in front of the TV on my laptop. Eventually I zoned-out and lost track of time, but I was slapped viciously back into reality when the phone rang. I grunted, put my laptop aside and heaved myself up to pick up the phone: "Hello?" "Hey Sweetie, it's me." "Hey Mum." "I'm just calling to say that Kim, your father and I aren't going to be back 'til the 7th." "What?! Why? I thought you guys would be home tomorrow morning!" "I know, Honey, we're at the airport now. There's been a huge issue with our visas we won't be back until we can renew them. It will take a week at the most. I'm gonna need you to look after Berryboy until then." "For another week?! Mum he was hard enough to look after for one day! He cries every half hour, always complains about how much he wants love, and I actually have to fucking watch him waddle around in his play-pen just case he drops one of his toys! And guess what he does when that happens? He starts crying!" "Don't you dare use that language with me, young lady. But I don't want to burden you, Sweetie. Try to take him to the creche tomorrow so you get the day off. Your dad will cover however much it costs." "If it's not full. It's the only day-care in the area, and I hate going out in public with him." "I'm really sorry about that, but we all have to make sacrafices." "Sacrifices? I was going to go out tomorrow night! But instead I have to make sure Berryboy doesn't wake up in the dark!" "Oh it's Halloween isn't it! Well maybe you could have a fun night with Berryboy." "..." "Honey, I don't want this to be difficult for you. I promise I'll make it up to you when we get back, but in the meantime you're gonna have to put up with this. I know you can do this, I just want to make it as easy as possible for you." "I'm not optimistic but what were you going to suggest?" "Well, you could maybe dress Berryboy and yourself up, just nothing too scary for him." "Fun..." "Well it's up to you. Anyway I have to go now, we're in the car so the phone's gonna cut out any second. Love you! Bye!" "Bye! Love you too!" I slammed the phone down, not too violently as I didn't want to wake the blueberry monster. Fuck my life. I was so pissed off. It wasn't Mum or Dad or Kims fault any of this happened. And I guess it wasn't really Berryboy's fault they couldn't get home, but still. I didn't want to look after him for another whole week! Especially as I was going to go to a party tomorrow. Maybe I could call the creche and see if they can take him tomorrow? I looked at the time: 10:32 pm. I like how Mum knew I'd be up. But damnit! It's too late to call them. I'm probably going to have to look after Berryboy myself tomorrow, meaning I'd need to get up early. Maybe I should just have a little rest and then tell everyone I can't come to the party. I sat down on the couch and lay my head down on one of the cushions. It was not very long at all before I drifted off to sleeeeeeeeeeeep...........

"OH MY G- WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" My head propped up to see my mother standing in the middle of the living room yelling at me. In the background I could hear Berryboy screaming like an infant in his nursery, and my sister in his play-pen demanding I set up a tea party. "I'm so sorry!" I yelled back and Mum. "I didn't mean to!" "You did! Don't you dare lie to me!" "But this wouldn't have happened if you hadn't brought him back!" "IT'S YOUR FAULT!" My mother screeched at me. I got up off the couch and sprinted towards the nursery. The entire house was FILLED with Berryboy's screaming. It was so loud I could see out the windows that every single house on our street had lit up. As I got closer and closer to the nursery the screaming got louder and louder, so loud in fact I honestly couldn't hear myself think! I rushed straight past the play-pen with my sister in it at a small table. The screaming was at an unbearable volume, but yet I heard my sister yell "It's so icky!" as I ran past her. I got to the nursery door and all of a sudden became frightened of what was inside. It was then I became aware of how load the screaming was. I blocked my ears but to no avail, so I pushed open the door to end it all. But what I saw haunted me: Berryboy was on his belly, with a blanket on his back, on the soft mat/nest/bed, flapping his hands and screaming. However his eyes were shut tight and he was crying so much his nursery was filled to the same level as his bath with warm tears. Giant, furry, black and orange tarantula legs hand ripped out of Berryboy's sides and were touching the walls. The wounds where his skin had been painfully split open to make way for the legs, were bleeding/leaking blueberry juice. The front two giant-spider legs were moving - trying to get as Berryboy's head while Berryboy screamed and flapped his hands uselessly in fear. On Berryboy's back, underneath where the blanket covered but above his little head were a large group of red eyes, glowing from underneath Berryboy's thin, blue, sensitive skin. I could see that the giant spider/monster was trying to rip out of Berryboy, causing him great pain and horror. Right underneath the eyes I saw two fangs slowly protruding out against the skin in an attempt to penetrate. The fangs got longer and longer as Berryboy screamed and cried louder and louder until the fangs ripped through his skin, causing the infant great agony. The Exposed fangs were silver and shiny, but dripping with berry juice. The rip they had caused began to spread right round his entire body; - I watched with utter terror as his skin separated and the veins snapped, and I felt my ears almost split at the noise Berryboy was making. "Pwease help me! It herts! IT HERTS!!!! Until finally........ He completely exploded in a torrential explosion of blueberry juice, skin, and body parts. The monster was now unleashed. Berryboy's head landed next to me with a splash; I hardly noticed. I was looking at the great tarantula right in the eyes, and it was looking at me. Then the spider screamed so loud that-

I woke up with the alarm clock screaming in my ear. What a weird dream! I looked at my clock: it had gone off half an hour early. That's strange, I guess I'll go and do what I need to do. I rose from the couch and quietly sneaked through the hallway down to the basement carrying a box. I was going to need a few materials for Berryboy's halloween costume.

"Berryboy, it's time to wake up." Berryboy slowly opened his eyes, realised he was tired, and began to cry. "There there, Berryboy. Don't cry!" Tears rolled down from Berryboy's eyes and he flapped his tiny hands uselessly. "I want love!" I was feeling weird today. I was thinking of how he deserved a hug. I hugged him and rubbed his belly until he stopped crying. "Now lets get you fed." I rolled him out into the kitchen and opened up the cupboard. "What would you like me to fix you?" "Ceweal! Ceweal!" Berryboy flapped his little hands. "Actually, I think you should have waffles!" I rolled Berryboy over to the table despite his slight objection and discomfort. "You like waffles!" I opened up the packet of frozen waffles and poured them all on to a plate, and slid it in front of Berryboy. Berryboy flapped his hands in protest and squealed. "No! Don't want waffles! Want ceweal! Want ceweal!" Berryboy shook his head quickly as well. I picked up my box of stuff I had collected from the basement. "But Berryboy, if you eat all your waffles I'll make you a costume for Halloween tonight! I won't make it too scary either! Something like a flower, or a blueberry. "I want fwowers!" "Not 'til you've finished your waffles." Berryboy flapped his little hands as I picked up one of the frozen, uncooked pieces of dough and brought it up to his little mouth. "Open wide!" I placed the waffle into his mouth and he tries to bite down, but his baby teeth couldn't do it. I made him bite down harder and harder until he finally managed to break a bite off and eat it. "Dats yucky! No moar!" "Well then I guess you aren't going to see what I have in my box!" Berryboy began to cry and flap his hands. "Eaaaahhh!!!! I want love! I want love!" "Sorry, Berryboy. I couldn't hear you. Say that again? " "I WANT LOVE! I WANT LOVE!" Flaps hands. "I WANT LOVE!" It was just then the meaning of the dream came into my mind. The rage and loathing I held towards Berryboy was to be unleashed, for Berryboy was nothing but a liability. I climbed up onto the table and looked Berryboy right in the eyes. He was sorrowful, screaming, and tears were rolling down his chubbly little cheeks. I placed my hands on either side of his head and brought my mouth right up to his. My mouths silenced his one that was crying for love, but what I did was only the beginning. I bit down hard into Berryboy's upper lip. So hard in fact Berryboy was unable to scream. All he could do was flap his tiny hands and let tears stream from his eyes. The rage made me bite down harder and harder so that my teeth would sink down deeper and deeper. The taste of blueberryjuice entered my mouth, telling me that I had penetrated his sensitive skin. But then my teeth met. I retracted with his upper lip still in my mouth until I heard a loud <SNAP!> as it ripped off. I spat out the bleeding/leaking lip into my palm and looked at Berryboy. Blueberry juice was flooding from his ripped skin where his upper lip used to be, exposeing his teeth and gums. He was screaming and crying, but that didn't stop me. "Pwease!" He cried. "Stop! Yor herting me! I want love!" But I wasn't finished yet. I went to left side of the screaming berry's body and grabbed one of his little, flapping hands. "Pwease don't hert me! Pwease!" I placed my hand around his middle finger, and pulled back so hard that I heard a cracking sound. Berryboy starting screaming so loud it was as though I was living my dream again, which reminded me of the spiders. I finished breaking all of his little fingers when I reached into my box again and pulled out a saw. All Berryboy was saying when he screamed was "I want love!" And "Pwease don't hert me!" So I held the saw up to his little, flapping right hand. "Pwease don't hert me! I want love! I won't have any ceweal! I'll have naps! I pwomise! I love you!" But none of those stopped me. I pushed down hard into Berryboy's wrist and began sawing throught his sensitive flesh and bone, until his hand was almost hanging via thread/vein. A small yank disconnected it. "Pwease stop! Yor herting me!" He flapped his broken-fingered left hand and realised how much pain it caused him. "Eaaaaahhh!!!! I'm sowwy! I'm sowwy! I don't want ceweal! Don't want ceweal!" "Good! Coz you aren't havin' any 'ceweal.' I have something that's heaps better and tastes BERRY good!" I reached into the box and pulled out a jar full or densely packed spiders I had collected in the basement. The jar had so many spiders in it that NONE of them could move, so you couldn't tell which ones were alive or not. When Berryboy saw the spiders he started screaming. I unscrewed the lid and quickly shoved the jar's end into the screaming infantile's mouth as laughed ferociously as the spiders poured in. It was not long before the jar had been emptied, do I quickly pulled out the jar and held his maimed mouth shut. He groaned as the spiders tried to move around in his mouth and crawl down his throat. A tear ran down his cheek and landed on the carpet, so I slapped him in the face with my free hand. "Swallow." I said, but Berryboy refused by squealing. "Swallow!" But Berryboy just squealed. I had predicted this would happen so once again with my free hand I reached into the box and pulled out a needle and thread. I saw Berryboy's innocent eyes widen as he knew what I was going to do. I slid my hand slowly and cautiously across his mouth so that I could reveal I tiny sid of it. Berryboy tried desperately to open his mouth to spit out all the spiders and plead, but I quickly stabbed the needle into his lower lip and up through his ripped skin to prevent him from doing so. I genly sewed up his bleeding mouth. This was hilariously satisfying! I could finally do what I always wanted to! I could let out all my feelings towards this lowlife. I picked up the pliers and opened them up. Berryboy turned his head to see what I was doing but I grabbed his hair and yanked his head HARD back to his originaly position and held it there. I held the open plier blades so that they were on either side of one of his little, blue ears. "Take this!" I screamed as I cut into the cartilage. Had Berryboy's maimed mouth not been sewn up, he would be screaming, but instead all he could do was squeal and shake his head. Berryjuice bled rapidly from his ear so I moved over to the other side, this time chopping carelessly into his earlobe while thinking of things he did to make me made. Watching my mother playfully but gently splash him while he lies on his belly in the kiddie pool. Signing Berryboy in to the creche for the day while I was at the mall. The way he flapped the cuddly toy in his had as he shuffled around his play-pen like a penguin, but way too much slower. It was now I noticed how much berry juice had stained the carpet. "Berryboy! Look what you've done! You are going to pay through the nose you little fuck! But first I think it's time for you to take another bath." I rolled Berryboy into the large bathroom and turned the water on the hottest temperature it could go. Berryboy's head was facing the tap and he saw what I was doing. He squealed as loud as he could and recoiled. "Tell you what, Berryboy. I'll cut the threads on your mouth so long as you finish all your spiders!" Berryboy chewed and swallowed painfully, a tear running down his cheek. I placed my fingers between the gaps in the thread and pulled hard enough to separate his mouth. I then got the pliers and cut all the threads, but didn't bother to pull them out. "Eeeeaaaahhhhh!!!! It herts!!!!! It herts!!!! Pwease don't hit me!!!! I WANT LOVE!" "I'll give you some love Berryboy. But now you need to follow this simple rule: you must never speak unless I give you permission. If you break this rule there will be SERIOUS consequencesl" Right next to the bath was his bucket and some rubber dish-washing gloves. I put on the gloves and used the bucket to scoop up a whole lot of the near boiling hot water. I threw is some bubblebath and frothed up the water with a brush. "But right now, I'll give you a nice wash, Berryboy!" I dipped the sponge into the 'berry' hot and soapy, almost burning my arm, and brought the sponge up towards Berryboy's large, round body. "Pwease don't hert me! I want love!" I sighed angrily. "I said NO talking without my permission!" I threw the sponge into the bucket of near-boiling water and picked up the pliers. I held them to Berryboy's broken pinky, and squeezed them as hard as I could to cut it off. Berryboy screamed at the pain and begged me to stop. I continued until his pinky landed on the bathroom floor, bleeding berry juice. "EAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!! IT HERTS! IT HERTS! PWEASE STOP! WANT LOVE! I WANT LOVE! I PWOMISE I WON'T HAVE CEWEAL! I'LL HAVE NAPS!!! "Berryboy, I suggest you shut your spider-hole or I'll bite your nose off!" Berryboy stopped speaking and whimpered. "That's better." I picked up the boiling hot sponge and began scrubbing his belly roughly. Berryboy winced at the pain of having a layer of his sensitive skin burnt and scrubbed off painfully, but he dared not speak having learned what will happen to him if he did. After his painful bathing experience I rolled Berryboy into his play-pen but didn't bother handing him a cuddly toy. Heck, I didn't even him on to his feet so that he could waddle around. Instead I just left him sitting there oh his belly, bleeding but not making a sound. Occasionally he would flap his 4-broken-fingered hand but would mainly shut his eyes tight so that he could make it through all the pain. I decided to go out into town and take the day off. I'm sure Berryboy was too busy coping with his wounds to look at flowers, or watch Barney, or waddle around, so I took my time. It was around about 2:30pm when I got home with all my things. Berryboy was still bleeding, but not as much as before, and he was still crying, but not daring to make a sound. "Berryboy! I'm home!" I yelled as I dumped my things on the table. Berryboy didn't answer. "I'll make your lunch, then you'll go outside, then you're having a nap. Ok?" Berryboy still didn't answer. His back was turned to me. I walked over to the other side of the pen to see that Berryboy was stilling blubbering. "Did you hear what I said? I'll give you permission to say yes or no." "Yes." Said Berryboy sorrowfully. "Good. I'll just go and fix you something." I quickly went down to the basement and managed to find quite a few other spiders, bigger, and more frightening. I roughly rolled Berryboy out of his play pen so that he was facing me with his sorrowful, teary eyes. "Now, Berryboy, would you like some of the mashed peas, carrots and potato from yesterday? Or some mashed spiders from the basement? I'm not giving you permission to speak by the way." The infantile stared at me with pleading eyes, begging for some of the baby food he had yesterday, but more worried about what I'll do to him if he spoke. "If you don't speak up I'm going to give you spiders..." Berrboy opened his little, maimed mouth as if you say what he needed to, but I quickly reached for the pliers. "Oh! You were lucky there weren't you! I'll just mash up these spiders. You go make yourself comfortable!" I quickly mashed the raw spiders into a paste and scooped it into a bowl.

It was the early evening, and I was getting ready to go out. Berryboy was still sitting in his play-pen, neglected, and I was running through all the things I would have had to do with him today: Watch him, feed him while he blabbered on about what songs they sang in Barney or one of the pretty flowers he saw today. But now he was far to scared to even dare speak; I liked it. I couldn't take Berryboy to the creche as it was closed, and he was too scared to have a nanny look after him. He might not be after having me care for him? No, not after what I've done to him. They'll call the police. I needed to hide him but I also make him suffer, but how? If I put him in the nursery he might start screaming and then the neighbours would find out, or I could shove him in the basement - it's dark down there and most people don't even know we have one! - That's a great idea! I walked over to Berryboy and roughly turned his entire body so that he was facing where I normally would be. "Berryboy, I'm going out now so you're gonna to bed in the basement." Berryboy squealed and shook his head quickly in objection. He was blubbering inaudibly quiet words too afraid to speak out loud. "Or would you rather go in your nursery?" Berryboy kept blubbering and whimpering like a puppy as tears streamed from his eyes. "Basement it is then!" I walked over to the basement door and opened it. I gazed into the darkness below, dreading to be the one going down there. I didn't turn the lights on, instead I rolled/kicked Berryboy out of his play-pen towards the door. I rolled him upright so that his back was facing the doorway, and the front part of his body was facing me. "It's quite cold and dark down there, but I guess that's where you wanna be, so..." I was just about to to pushe Berryboy in when he cried out "Pwease don't put me down dere! Pwease! I'm herting! It's scewwy down dere! I want to go to my nuwsewy or to cweche!!! I pwomise I'll go to sweep! I pwomise! Pwease don't make me go down dere! I don't want to! I won't have any ceweal!" "I did not give you permission to speak!" I yelled at him, and slapped the infantile HARD across the cheek. Berryboy squealed and winced at the pain, but went down to a whimper. "I can't really chop off any of your fingers, so you're gonna sleep in that basement as punishment. I would stay silent if I were you." Berryboy blubber as I placed both my hands on his round belly and pushed him violently throught the doorway, but he got stuck in the process! Berryboy winced at the pain so I just pushed harder and harder, scraping his sides. Finally he popped through and all I had to do was let go so he could go plummeting into the dark abyss below. He looked at me with scared, pleading eyes with tears streaming from them. "See you tomorrow, Berryboy." I let go and he toppled/rolled violently down the stairs at a dangerous speed, with Berryboy screaming the whole time. I heard a bump, a crash, then a scream. "Shut up and go to sleep!" And with that I slammed the door shut, locking Berryboy in the pitch-black basement.

I got back at about 4:30 in the morning. The house was silent. Glad to have the burden of looking after Berryboy, I lay down on the couch and relaxed again. My sleep was interrupted by the sound of screaming from down in the basement. My head propped up but not to see my mother yelling at me. The screaming filled the entire house and I couldn't tell if I was dreaming or not. I rushed to the basement door, opened it up and turned on the light. I flew down the stairs to see what was the matter. Berryboy had landed in the basement quite violently to start with, as he had smashed into the work bench and a whole lot of tools had fallen on him. The room was freezing cold, like a large fridge, and crawling on Berryboy was a large tarantula. Once again Berryboy was far too scared to say anything to me, so he just screamed. The tarantula was so large, I felt disturbed at how much it reminded me of the one ripping out of Berryboy in the dream. I plucked up enough courage to shoo the animal-arachnid off of the screaming Berryboy, and roll him up right. The only thing was, he didn't stop screaming. I placed my glass bottle of gin on the bench and was feeling kind of sympathetic to this very creature I hated so much. Probably because I kept seeing that spider rip it's way out of him rather that just crawl around. "What's the matter? It got it off you! Why you screamin'?" "It was bewwy daak and scewwy!" I'd had it. That was just too much for me. How dare he take advantage of my hungover, sympathetic to tell me he was scared. He blubbered, whimpered and squealed slightly as I reached for my bottle. I grabbed it my the clear bottle-neck and lifted it up high above Berryboy's face in a dagger-like fashion. Berryboy screamed as I brought the bottle end down hard onto Berryboy's face, smashing his little nose and bruising him badly. Berryboy was screaming and berry juice was leaking out of his crumpled nose, but I pounded him in the nose once again with the bottle, and again and again and again I pounded pour Berryboy's face in a "Pan's Labyrinth" style. I put the juice-stained bottle and down and took a step back to see how badly maimed his face was. It was past recognisable, and Berryboy was crying terribly. My best way was to put him out of his misery; I had no other choice. I smashed the empty gin bottle against the bench, shattering it. I picked up one of the sharp pieces, and moved towards Berryboy. Berryboy knew what I was going ot do so he squealed and shook his head. "Pwease don't! I don't wanna die! I want love!" "Shut up you worthless piece of shit!" I kicked him hard in the head. He squealed and was silent, except for his sorrowful blubbering. I held the glass right up to his side and said "You, Berryboy, aren't fucking getting anything!" And I pierced his skin with the glass. Berryboy started screaming, I pulled out the shard out and grabbed either side of his would and pulled with all my strength, separating his skin and allowing the rip to travel painfully around his big, round body. Berryboy's screams sounded exactle like the one's in my dream, giving me a hunch as to what was going to happen next.

He let out one last tear, flap of the hand, wiggle of the feet, and one last scream before his entire body exploded.

A huge splash of blueberry juice bowled me over, and pieces of blue skin and body parts flew all over the place. Just like in the dream, Berryboy's head landed right next to me and I quickly picked it up. I could see that he was dying, but not dead yet. Berryboy was conscious and he was looking at me, trying to scream and blubber but to no avail without lungs. He looked me right in the eyes knowing he was going to die, and that filled me with rage. I slammed his head on the ground and stomped on it until his skull split open and blueberry juice flooded out. Berryboy, was finally dead.

I walked up the stairs, leaving behind a basement ankle-deep in berry juice, skin and body parts.

Berries

10:00 in the morning. I've definately overslept.

With my head resting on the soft pillow and my back on the springy bed, I stared blankly up at the white ceiling, my mind buzzing with all the things I was going to have to do today. I knew I had overslept, but my eyelids kept very slowly closing themselves over my tired eyes, and when I tried to move my legs or arms, they felt like they were frozen in lead. I small tapping sound reached my ears from behind the door, like the pitter-patter of small feet wandering around quickly and aimlessly. The sound traveled around the entire inside of the house but stopped at my door. A small surge of nervousness/pain rang through my chest as I dreaded what was going to happen next. The brown doorknob of my white door very slowly turned, and the door was gently pushed open, but without much care - like they did not care whether I was tired or not. I gathered up all the strength I had an pulled myself up with ease, to my surprise the weighted feeling had been lifted, and turned my sleepy eyes towards the open doorway. In it stood a small, blue blob with a head. Poking out the sides were two small blue, vestigial hands. One holding a pink and white rattle. His face was blue, chubby and baby-like, a pacifyer was in his mouth, and he had blue hair on top. He was a Berrybaby. Behind him was another Berrybaby, only he was holding a brown teddy bear. The first Berrybaby shuffled into my room like a penguin waving his rattle, followed by the second Berrybaby. The babies weren't saying anything, just waddling around aimlessly waiting for me to get up, feed them and put them in their play pen with Berryboy. Getting out of bed, I scooped my arms around both of the Berrybabies smooth, delicate skin and carried out the door. The sun was shining through the windows creating a spectrum on the carpet, which (sadly) the Berrybabies had noticed. Berryboy was out of his playpen too, and was waddling around hopelessly looking for me, when he also noticed the spectrum. "Wainbow! Wainbow!" Berryboy cried as he spat out his pacifyer and flapped his hands. The Berrybabies also began shouting "Wainbow! Look! Wainbow!" "Yes! Amazing!" I responded sarcastically, but they didn't notice. "Now come over here Berryboy, it's time for your breakfast. Berryboy waddled over to the table as I slid the Berrybabies into their high-chairs. All three babies looked at me eagerly for their meal while I picked up Berryboy's pacifyer from the ground. "What would you like for you're breakfast?" One of the Berrybabies flapped their hands. "Ceweal! Ceweal!" He cried. The other Berrybaby spat out his pacifyer and said wanted cereal as well. Berryboy flapped his hands and cried "I want wice pops!" The other Berrybabies began crying out "Wice pops! I want wice pops!" I'd been living with these three babies for 7 years now, and they hadn't changed one single bit, physically or mentally. They still cried at the smallest thing, looked the same, and still drove my head in. I carelessly got out three bowls, spoons, ricepops and the milk and set a bowl in front of each of the blue infants. Feeding them was a tedious and tiring job: I had to feed a Berrybaby a spoonful, then the other Berrybaby, then Berryboy, and go in that order. If I was too slow, the other two would start crying so I'd have to do it quickly. When one would squeal, shut their mouth tight and shake their head that meant they were too full and I would just feed the other two. After a while Berryboy and the Berrybabies had finished their breakfast so I took all three bowls up to the sink. My mother would alway leave me to look after the infants when she went on holiday. And that, I tell you, happened a lot. She had found the Berrybabies two years after finding Berryboy, and seemed to think that I'd happily take care of all three for the rest of my life, seeing as how they're going to remain the way they are. I rolled Berryboy into his play-pen, followed by the Berrybabies who proceeded to rummage through all the toys. After a short time Berryboy said "I want to watch bahnee! I want bahnee!" He waddled around in a little circle and flapped his baby hands. This was followed by the Berrybabies crying out that they too wanted me to put on a Barney DVD for them. I did what they wanted and very soon all three babies were gathered round the TV in their play-pen watching the singing dinosaur. I used this time to take a break, but I couldn't quite rest properly. I kept having these weird dreams that were only about Berryboy; one being about me changing and stuffing thorns in his mouth, another being I forced him to eat spiders and put him in the basement. Interesting, but I didn't give the 'dreams' much though. When Barney had finished the berries wanted me to take them to the play ground, but I thought that was a bad idea seeing as how that meant pushing the Berrybabies in their pram while rolling Berryboy. It was not only difficult, but it was also as embarrassing as Hell! "I want to go to da pway gwound!" Berryboy said, flapping his baby hands. "Yeah! Pway gwound! Pway gwound!" A Berrybaby responded. Grrrr!! Will it ever end????!!!! "Sure! Play ground it is!" I exclaimed with a tinge of anger. "Let's go!" But it was just then the other Berryboy cried out "No! No! Don't want to go to da pway gwound! Wanna watch moar bahnee!" "No! Pway gwound!" "Bahnee!" I was about to intervene when the phone rang. I picked it up but what I heard changed my life forever...

Crying at a funeral seems natural. Mourners have lost a loved one and they bawl their eyes out for weeks. But crying and screeching at a funeral because you want some baby food, to watch the Teletubbies, to go to the play ground, want the flowers on the coffin, or want a toy to play with is not only disrespectful to the mourners, but to the deceased too. Berrybaby didn't understand that you aren't supposed to say "I want dose fwowers!" when my uncle puts a bouquet of flowers upon the coffin. Yes, my uncle gave the Berrybaby a nasty look. Berryboy didn't realise that crying loudly while my cousin spoke about our grandmother was unacceptable, and the other Berrybaby wasn't aware of the fact that yelling out that he wanted to watch Barney was very displeasing to all the mourners. I ended up having to leave because trying to comfort three crying berries while holding back my own tears had become too much. You would not believe the hateful glares I got when pushing the Berrybabies in their pram and rolling Berryboy out the door while they cried and screeched showing no respect whatsoever for my dead grandmother. 'I'm so sorry, Grandma. Really, I am! I feel so awful, these... stupid babies have disrespected you! If you were still alive, you ought to teach them a lesson.' As I transported the upset berries back home I began asking myself questions: Why was I looking after them? What was in it for me? Etc... We got home, but the berries were still screeching and crying. "Okay, it's time for your nap now." "NNOOO!!!! NOO!!! PWEASE! NOT TIRED! NOT TIRED!!" Cried Berryboy. "You ARE tired Berryboy, you have to take a nap. That goes for you too, Berrybabies." "Waaaaaahh!!!! Not tired! NOT TIRED!!!" The berries were crying. I left crying Berryboy in the living room as I took the Berrybabies to their cots. They shared the same nursery that Berryboy did, only their cots were on either side of Berryboy's nest which was in the middle. The first Berrybaby slid out of my arm and into his cot, screeching. The second Berrybaby did the same as I placed him gently into his cot. I then rolled Berryboy into the nursery so he was lying on his stomach on his nest. I wrapped the first Berrybaby in a yellow and red blanket, the other in a blue and white, and I put a pink blanket on Berryboy's back. All three berries were crying and screeching that they weren't tired but I just sat there. They were tired, but they didn't know it. After five minutes Berryboy dropped off to sleep, followed by the Berrybabies. I quietly left the nursery being sure not to wake any of the berries, closing the door behind me. For two and a half hours I had the freedom to do whatever I wanted... around the house that is. I fixed myself some lunch, watched TV and had a little rest myself. As much as I hate to say it, the Berries' nap simply flew by, and very soon cries from the nursery echoes down the hall. They wanted feeding, and then they would probably want me to take them to the play ground. I made my way back to the nursery and braced myself. Opening the door of the nursery I could see that all three berries were upset, and desperate for some baby food. "I want love!" Cried one of the Berrybabies. "No! I want love! WANT LOVE!" Cried Berryboy. I was quick to comfort the three, and it was not long before the Berrybabies were in their high chairs flapping their tiny blue hands, and Berryboy waiting with them following suit. I mashed up some boiled carrot, apple, potato and peas into three separate bowls, and began feeding the berries. I tried so hard to rid myself of the anger I felt towards them due to how they squabbled so much at the funeral, but I contained myself and continued with their feeding. After all three babies squealed and said "No! Too full!" while shaking their heads, I put the bowls back in the sink. A Berrybaby then exclaimed "I wanna go to da pway gwound!" Berryboy and the other Berrybaby wanted to go too, so I lifted both the Berrybabies onto the ground as I went to go and grab my coat. As they had done before, the Berries waddled around the room slowly and aimlessly waiting for me, whom they relied upon totally. One of the Berrybabies hobbled into the play-pen and picked up his teddy bear, and Berryboy tried to find his pacifier. Obviously he was unsuccessful, so I returned to see Berryboy crying with the Berrybabies just waddling around. "Eheh! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeh!!!! Eeeeeeeeehh!!!!" Berryboy cried and flapped his hands. He was distressed, and wanting me to get it for him. It was just in his nursery, and as I was putting it into his mouth I was relieved that it shut him up. After the painstaking journey of pushing the Berrybabies in their pram while rolling Berryboy, we arrived at the local playground. Luckily it was empty, so I didn't need to be too cautious about disputes between the baby berries and the other children. There had been one time when someone hit Berryboy, causing him to cry and scream, but thankfully it was my mother who was looking after them, not me. She was away right now, because of my Grandmother, so it was just me. But... hang on. Shouldn't we be there too? Wait, it's because of Berryboy and the Berrybabies we aren't. They deserve to be punished after what they did! "Mewwy-go-wound! Want mewwy-go-wound!" Yelled Berryboy. "No! Want swings!" Demanded a Berrybaby. "NNNOOOO!!!!! WANT SWIDE! WANT SWIDE!" "Okay, Berries," I said to them with a tinge of anger and hatred in my voice. "Let's have some fun..."

Each baby berry wanted to play on a different part of the playground. One Berrybaby wanted to go down the slide, the other wanted to go on the swings, and Berryboy wanted to go on the Merry-go-round. "Mewwy-go-wound! Mewwy-go-wound!" Berryboy said and flapped his little hands. "I want to go on da swings!!!!" Cried a Berrybaby. "No! Swide!!" Cried the other Berrybaby. It was a hot day, and most of the playground was made of metal with chipping paint. It was 2 in the afternoon and it couldn't get any hotter. We were taking a little rest from the walk, and you could say I was pondering a few things. The Berrybabies had a shade in their pram so they didn't have to put up with the hot sun beating down, and the same applied to Berryboy who was taking up all the shade under the only tree in the area. The berries were crying and arguing, and all the while I was becoming more and more fed up. They should be lucky I'm even looking after them after the way the disrespected my grandmother, and yet they still have the nerve to whine about what part of the playground they want me to take them to. I can't take this anymore. This is too much. But it was at that moment, a simple idea popped into my head. We were only a block away from home... yes. "Berryboy, Berrybabies, I just have to pop home for a minute so I'll just get you guys all set." "Mewwy-go-wound!" Berryboy cried out. "Swings!" Cried a Berrybaby. "Swide!" Cried the other. I pushed the double pram into the centre of the playground and rolled Berryboy to the hot merry-go-round. None of the infants knew that the metal had been heated up to a rather uncomfortable temperature due to the sun. I looked around and saw no one in sight. Perfect.... "I have a special treat for all of you!" The Berries stared at me eagerly and excitely, and flapped their tiny hands like wings. "You all get to go on airplane rides!!!" "Ehpwane! Ehpwane wide!" The Berries cried out, thrilled. "I'll just go home and get ready, but that means you guys have to do exactly as I say. Ok?" "Yes! Yes!" Said Berryboy, followed by the Berrybabies. First of all, I picked up a Berrybaby and carried him over to the swings. He turned his head to face the direction we were going and didn't say a word. There were two swings, one for infants and one for anyone to use. The infant swing was shaped like a diaper, whereas the other one was just a seat. I had to put the Berrybaby in the infant swing as the other was too dangerous for someone as little as him, only it was black. The hot sun had heated up the toddler swing to such an uncomfortable temperature I couldn't even touch it for a second. To avoid hesitation I quickly slid the juice-filled baby into the scolding hot swing, and withing several seconds the Berrybaby began to cry and flap his little hands. "Ow! Ow! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhh!!! Stoooop!!!! STOP!!!" The Berrybaby cried. "It's herting me! Too hot! TOO HOT!!" "It's ok, Berrybaby!" I hugged the Berrybaby, and he rested his little head on my shoulder. "I'm just going to go away for one minute." "Eeeeeeeeeehhh!!!!! EEEEEEEHHHHH!!!! Too hot!!! It's herting!!!!!!" The Berrybaby screeched, tears were streaming from his eyes. "See you soon!" I pulled the hot swing further and further back (You bet my hand felt like it was burning) until Berrybaby was high over my head. "Ready?" "No! NO! IT HERTS!!! NO! TOO HIGH! TOO HIGH!!!" The Berrybaby screamed, but ignoring the infant's pleas I pushed the frying hot swing as hard as possible. I walked away from the screaming and swinging Berrybaby carelessly and made my way to Berryboy. "Want to go on mewwy-go-wound!" Said Berryboy, as he looked at me and flapped his hands. "Are you sure, Berryboy?" I grinned mockingly at the infant, but he didn't notice. "Yes! Yes! Yes! Want mewwy-go-wound!" I rolled Berryboy onto the scolding hot, rotating platform and he began screaming. "Eheh! Eeeeeeehhh!!! It herts! Too hot! Don't want mewwy-go-wound!" Berryboy cried. "But don't you want your airplane ride?" "Yes! Yes! But dis is herting me! Too hot! Want ehpwane wide! No moar mewwy-go-wound!" I began spinning the burning hot merry-go-round with Berryboy on it. Berryboy was screaming and begging me to stop and get him off, but I just span the hot metal faster. Berryboy had become a huge, big blur which eminated infantile screams. "Stop! STOP!!! Too fast! It's herting me!! MOMMY!!! MOMMY!!!" Satisfied with the height of Berrybaby's swings, and the speed of Berryboy's spins, I moved on to the Berrybaby waiting in the pram. He had seen what I was doing, and squealed and flapped his hands when he saw me walking towards him. He desperately tried to get out of his pram but was too slow: I grabbed him as he struggled to get away and screamed. I lifted him up and he began to cry. "No! Nooo!!! Howlp!! Mommy! MOMMY!" The baby berry screamed. "Mommy's not here! Do you know why?" "Eeeeeeehhh!!! Mommy! MOMMY!!" I slapped the baby across the face. "SHUT UP! STOP CRYING!" I yelled at the Berrybaby, but he only cried harder. Next to the play ground was a field, and I knew that if I left the Berrybaby in the middle of the field he couldn't wadde very far while I was gone. I could also chase him around as he screamed for his mommy, as he wasn't 'Berry' fast at waddling for a laugh. I held the Berrybaby as you would a normal infant, and he saw I was taking him to the field. His crying made my arm itch to strike him again, but I managed to contain myself, and drop him in the middle of grassy reserve. "I'll be back here in a minute, so don't even think about trying to get away." "Mommy! Mommy! Hooooowwwwlllp!!! Pwease!" The Berrybaby just cried. So with that, I sprinted back towards the home, leaving behind the Berrybaby desperate for help, the other Berrybaby on a burning hot swing swinging far too high, and past screaming Berryboy on the scolding hot merry-go-round spinning faster than was safe for an infant. The baby berries were able to contain oxygen in their blueberry juice which meant that if you strangled one, he would feel the same pain we do when we don't breathe, only he wouldn't die. I was going to use this to my advantage. If there was a hole in the ground, I could carry the Berrybabies around giving them airplane rides, and then hurl them into the hole which I'd bury them alive in. This was my plan. I was going home to get a shovel.

It was late afternoon when I returned to the playground with a shovel. Berryboy was still on the merry-go-round which was still turning, only now much slower. He was crying and screaming for his 'mommy'; my mother, but she was away at the funeral and the baby berries all totally relied on me. Berryboy was flapping his two vestigial hands, screaming to get off of the hot playground, but I just smiled and ignored the distressed infant. Berrybaby was still on the swing, kicking his little feet and flapping his little blue hands desperate to get off of the swing. But like I had done with Berryboy, I ignored this infant too. The other Berrybaby, as predicted, had not been able to waddle far and was frantically trying to find somewhere safe. From where I was, I could only see a little blue dot on the field waddling around, so I moved closer. I was about halfway there when the upset berry noticed me, and tried as hard as he could to waddle as far away from me he could. But he was slow. So slow in fact that I decided to let him try and get away while I dug the hole in the ground. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhh!!! MOMMAY!!! MOMMAAAAAAAAAAAAYYY!!!!!" The Berrybaby screamed, but I only replied with "Mommy's at the funeral! You would be there too had you not misbehaved the way you did." "MOMMY! PWEASE!" "Mommy's not here! I'm looking after you!" I laughed as I kept digging the hole, deeper and wider until it was about 2 metres deep and 1.5 metres wide. "Now, Berrybaby!" I announced with passion. "Time for your airplane ride!" The Berrybaby knew what I was going to do, so he just kept on screaming. "No! NO PWEASE! I WANT MOMMAY! MOMMAAAAAAAAAAYY!!!! I WANT MOMMAY!!!!" I charged at the Berrybaby who was desperately trying to get away from me, I grabbed him tightly and swang him around at a dangerous speed. Berrybaby was screaming, but I only swung him faster and faster. I took him over to the hole I dug and violent threw him into the hole so that he landed hard on the ground. Berryboy sat there on his back looking up at me with pleading, tearful eyes. "Pwease! Don't!" He begged, but I just shoveled a huge mound of dirt onto him. I piled another on top of the blue infant, and another, and another. I looked down and couldn't see the Berrybaby, but I could see the dirt move. I also heard faint, muffled screams eminate from the movement, so I only piled more and more dirt until the entire hole was filled. Berrybaby would be suffocating in there, but not dying, which meant that I could leave him there for as long as I wanted, but I planned on digging him up eventually. The other blueberry babies had seen everything that had happened, and knew that I, as their caregiver, was now hostile to them. They were both crying over numerous things: They had seen Berrybaby get buried alive, they were in pain, they were hungry, and they were 'Berry' scared of what I was going to do to them. It was now early evening, and the playground had cooled down. Berrybaby was still in the swing and Berryboy was still on the merry-go-round, waiting for me to take them home, but I had no intention of doing so just yet. Both berries were crying, but I marched straight past the Berrybaby and towards Berryboy. Berryboy looked at me, flapped his hands and cried. "Eheh! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhh!!! No! Pwease! Want mommy! Want love!" Berryboy begged and cried. "But what about your airplane ride?" I grinned, maliciously. "No! Don't want ehpwane wide! Want love! Pwease don't hert me! DON'T HERT ME! WANT MOMMY!" I climbed up on top of Berryboy's belly, so that I was right by the baby berry's head. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaahhh!! Want Mommay!!!!" He screamed. I grabbed his mouth and began prying it open. Berryboy screamed and kept flapping his hands. I opened it more and more, so that the infant's face and skin began painfully reaching their limits, but I ignored his screams and kept opening. The sides of his mouth began to split, causing Berryboy tremendous pain which resulted in him screaming loudly and rapidly flapping his little blue baby hands like wings, but I only kept on opening. The splits tore across both of the blue baby's cheeks until his head (from his jaw up) went straight back in a crudely comical embellishment of a large mouth. All of his teeth were facing up, his facial features were all upside down and berry juice bled from the baby's torn skin. He was screaming, and like the berry juice, tears were streaming from his eyes onto his huge, round, blue body next to his tiny flapping vestigial hands. "Aaaahh!! Aaaahh! Aaaaa aaaa aaaahh!!!! Eeh! Eeeeeaaaa eaaaaaaa aaaaa aaaa!!!" Berryboy tried to scream for help but couldn't. "What's that Berryboy? Do you want to go for your airplane ride now?" "Aaaahh!!! Eheh! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhh eeeeh eeeeeeehaaaaaaaaaaaahh!!! Aaaahh aaahh aahh!!!" The infant was frantically trying to call for his mommy as he was in great pain, but this was only the beginning. "Sorry, was that a yes? Your airplane ride is me spinning you on the merry-go-round just so you know, so do you want me to spin you?" The baby was terrified. All he could do was flap his hands and scream from his maimed mouth. "Okay then, Berryboy!" "Aaaaaaa aaaaa aaaa!!!! Eeeaaaa!!!" Berryboy was distressed, but that didn't stop me.

I began turning the merry-go-round, slowly at first, but getting faster and faster. Berryboy was screaming and flapping his little blue hands, but I just kept on spinning. It was not long before the merry-go-round was too fast for me to continue spinning, so I took a few steps back. A sudden image of the torn part of Berryboy's head flying off of his body due to the speed he was spinning at and landing next to me flashed through my mind, but I brushed it off as unlikely. "Eh! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehh!!!" Berryboy screamed, but I just left the baby as he was. A small splutter of berry juice and tears hit my shoe as I was about to walk away, telling me that Berryboy was crying, but I just walked off. Berrybaby was still sitting on the swing. He had seen everything that had happened, and knew he was next. Berrybaby began to cry.

Berrybaby was shocked when I treated him like my mother or I did any other day: take him home, feed him, bathe him, play with him and put him to bed. He didn't dare complain to be about anything after seeing what I had done to Berryboy and the other Berrybaby: I'd opened Berryboy's mouth so big that his cheeks had split and his mouth was open at a 160 degree angle and left him spinning and screaming on the merry go round. I'd buried the other Berrybaby alive. Berrybaby put up no fuss when I put him to bed, but I had plans for him. I had plans for all three baby berries. The morning grew into a golden summer haze as I lifted from my slumber. My plan of attack for today was to feed Berrybaby, get some course work done, get some groceries, and pick up the other two baby berries from the playground. I walked into the nursery to find an empty cot, and empty nest (where Berryboy slept) and Berrybaby fast asleep in his cot. "Berrybaby," I whispered softly, a mocking element of sweetness in my tone. "It's time to wake up." Very slowly Berrybaby opened his little, blue eyes and began to cry. "Eheh! Eeeeeeeeeeeeehhhh!!! Eeeeeehhhh!!!!!" I picked up the blue infant and cuddled him gently. Berrybaby released his tears and rested his head on my shoulder. He seemed to have forgotten about my vicious hostility towards the baby berries and continued crying. "Hush now!" I patted the blue baby's back. "Let's get you fed. I'm taking you to creche today." The morning followed the a much simpler routine. I only had to feed one Berrybaby, and I found I had a lot more time on my hands. I was a very hot day, and I knew that Berryboy was most likely still on the hot merry go round, but I decided to let the big blue infant suffer some more. It was about 1pm when I headed off to the creche with Berrybaby; he didn't say a word the entire time. After dropping him off I proceeded to the playground, which was only a few short blocks away, where I would pick up the other two baby berries. When I arrived I wasn't surprised to see Berryboy still on merry go round, only there was something strange about him. Literally, there was what looked like a dark cloud around his head. As I loomed closer I noticed that the cloud was moving rather quickly; so quickly in fact I immediately recognized what they were: flies. A swarm of flies buzzing around Berryboy's 160 degree angle open mouth, sapping up the berry juice leaking from the baby's torn cheeks, and planting maggots in his ripped flesh. Berryboy was flapping his little hands, and was crying. He could feel the maggots squirming in his torn cheeks, but I had no sympathy for him. It took longer than I thought for Berryboy to notice me but then again, he only saw me from his sleepless, upside down eyes. I knew that Berryboy was still in pain, and because of this had been awake ever since I'd torn his mouth. Berryboy panicked when he saw me. "Aaaa!! Aaa eeh aaaa!!! AAAA AAAAAYYY!!! AAA AAAAYYY!!! I EHEEEE EEEEAAAAHH!!!!" Berryboy desperately tried to scream for help, or most likely his mommy, but I paid no heed to the distressed baby's cries. With several swishes of my arms I shooed away the flies, leaving only the maggots behind. Berryboy kept on crying and screaming, so I got out a needle and thread to fix him. I climbed up onto the big berry's belly and closed his mouth. Completely ignoring the berry's cries and the squirming maggots I began stitching up Berryboy's ripped cheeks. After a few minutes his cheeks were all stitched but sadly, Berryboy now had his ability to speak again. "Pwease! Ow! Don't hit me! I'm bewwy sced! I want mommy! Pwease don't hit me! I want love! It herts! I want love! Eeeeehhh!!!!" I didn't reply, but instead I gave Berryboy a hug so that he wouldn't continue with his 'I want love' nonsense, but he didn't stop there. "Ow!!! It still herts!!! Pwease! Get dem off me! IT HERTS!!! MOMMY!! I pulled out of my pocket Berryboy's pacifier and showed it to him. "No! Don't want! Pwease! Don't want! It herts!" I didn't want this big baby bothering my ears any longer. I had always wanted to do this: I stuck the pacifier into Berryboy's mouth and immediately began sewing it to his face. He squealed and flapped his hands, and tried to push it out with his little tongue but I continued crudely sewing the pacifier onto the baby's mouth. Berryboy was squealing and flapping his hands, berry juice was bleeding out from where I'd punctured his skin but I just kept on sewing. It was not long before the pacifier was stuck on good and tight to the baby's wounded face, so I took a step back to admire my work. Berryboy was crying and more distressed than ever, but this was only the beginning. Berryboy hadn't slept, ate or drank in almost 24 hours, but being a blueberry he was able to last a BERRY long time without food or drink (he still experiences hunger and thirst at the same rate as we do remember), so he was tired, hungry and thirsty. It was now that I decided to make the other Berrybaby suffer a little more: I would leave him under the ground for a few more days and would take Berryboy home right now. I began rolling Berryboy back home leaving behind the pram and reminding myself to wipe up all the berry juice bleeding from Berryboy's face and down his belly. "Berryboy, when we get home do you want to play?" "Mmmm!!! Mmmm!!!" Berryboy squealed. He didn't want to play, he wanted some baby food, he wanted milk and he wanted to sleep, but I had no intention of showing him these. "Well, let me give you a choice, Berryboy. Either you play or you have dinner, watch Barney and then go to sleep. What do you choose, the first or second?" "Mmmm!! Mmmmmmmm!!! MMMMMM!!!" Berryboy's muffled screams echoed down his body even in a desperate attempt for the baby to tell me he was tired, but I just laughed. "Is that a yes to playing?" "Mmmm mmm! Mmmm mmmm!!!" Berryboy squealed and flapped his hands. "I'll take that as a yes!" We got home, and it was now that I decided to have some fun with Berryboy. He hadn't been able to sleep, so I decided to make it impossible for him. I first felt his forehead, and could feel how warm it was. The infant was much less energetic, which told me he had a terrible headache. He desperately needed sleep, so I decided to show him a little mercy. "Okay Berryboy, I'll let you sleep," Berryboy flapped his hands, "AFTER we've finished the game." Berryboy tried to cry out as I rolled him onto the kitchen floor. "Remember the merry-go-round?" Tears streamed from Berryboy's eyes. "I'll take that as a yes." I began spinning Berryboy, the smooth kitchen floor making it easy. I span him fast and faster, the whole time Berryboy flapping his hands and crying. I could only imagine the pain he would have been feeling. After a few minutes I slowed Berryboy down to a stop, and climbed up to his head. The baby didn't look well. "Mmmmmmmm hhhh mmmmm hhh mmmm hhh mmmmmm." Berryboy was trying to scream, but he knew it was useless. His headache must have been killing him, and he also looked as though he felt like throwing up. He was crying, that's all he was doing, crying as babies do. He was frantically trying to get the pacifier out of his mouth, but I had sewn it tightly to his lips. That reminded me I had to clean up all that berry juice bleeding from the stitchings. "Okay Berryboy, we can stop now." "Mmmmm hhh mmmm hh mmmm hhh mmmm hh mmmmm." Tears were streaming from the baby's eyes, and he wasn't even flapping his hands. He was in excruciating pain, must have been hungry and thirsty and his head was killing him. "Now I'm going to remove your pacifier so long as you promise to behave. OK?" Berryboy flapped his hands and nodded in agreement. I grabbed the ring around the pacifier, and pulled, ripping out all the stitching form the berry's mouth. "Eheh! Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeehhh!!! Eeeeeeeeeeaaaaahhh!! It herts! It herts!" Berryboy cried, but that angered me. I brought up my arm, which Berryboy saw me do. "No! No! Pwease! Mommy!" I slapped the baby hard across the face. "Shut up!" "Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaahh!!! I want mommay!!!" "I *SLAP!* said *SLAP* SHUT *SLAP!* UP! *SLAP*" But Berryboy kept on crying. I repeatedly slapped the infant until he shut up, so you bet I went and sewed that pacifier back on to his mouth. I did however leave a small gap in the stitchings to feed Berryboy through. I went into the fridge and got out some milk. I filled up a baby bottle and heated it up in the microwave, the whole time with Berryboy flapping his hands and screeching. I quickly mashed up some banana and heated that up too. I began feeding the berry. An hour later Berryboy had finished his baby food and his milk, so I stitched up his mouth completely rolled him into his nursery. Luckily, Berrybaby was able to stay overnight at the creche, so I didn't have to be careful of waking any Berrybabies. I gently rolled Berryboy into a comfortable position but I didn't give him a cuddle. This distressed Berryboy and he flapped his hands, a tear running down his cheek. I pulled out of my pocket a clothes peg; I leaned in close to the baby's face and looked him right in the eye. "I hate you."

I closed the peg over Berryboy's nose and walked out the room, closed the door on the suffocating infant.

See also

• Inflation art
• /co/
• Asperger's syndrome
• Sharty - Revived in 2022 award.

External links

• Iloveberryboy
• gurglesound
• Trolling example

Berryboy is part of the following series:

• 
  DeviantArt
• 
  Memes
• 
  Trolls