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Smurfette found dead in gym bag

County Coroner Brevin Bufang rises before dawn and covers his penis with multiple layers of clothing. He fixes a light breakfast of bacon and orange juice, but no eggs. Eggs make him nauseous.

In a warehouse downtown, a pair of small black eyes peer out of a desecrated gym bag. A severed blue head, lifeless but still terrified in its expression, patiently awaits discovery inside. A few locks of golden hair, still soft to the touch and remarkably shiny, curl their way around the zipper before becoming frayed and twisted in its teeth. To anyone born in the 1980s, there’s no mistaking the bag’s contents. Smurfette – the sex kitten who once shook the bourgeois cartoon world to its very core – has been murdered.

The 1980s were the perfect backdrop for blue girls who just wanted to have fun, and Smurfette was the bluest bitch in town. In 1983, she gained notoriety by deflowering Diff’rent Strokes actor Gary Coleman, who was a mere 15 years old at the time. In 1985, she completely shattered her innocent persona by posing for a sultry pictorial in Buttfuckers Magazine. In 1988, she was banned from the Nickelodeon Kids’ Choice Awards for throwing a lit crack pipe at host Tony Danza.

“I’m not afraid to die,” said Smurfette in a 1989 interview for The Disney Channel. “I’ve seen unspeakable things in this world. Death can wait its goddamn turn. I’ve got 10 boyfriends and 100 girlfriends, and anybody who doesn’t like it can suck me! I can’t wait for God to come and cut me down.”

Smurfette then spat chewing tobacco into the cameraman’s eye.

Coroner Bufang is running late, so he quickly climaxes inside Mrs. Bufang. On his way out the door, she hands him a paper bag containing a peanut butter sandwich, a banana and two Fig Newtons. She knows not to include any eggs in his lunch. Eggs make him nauseous.

Downtown at the crime scene, a rookie cop uses a hose to clean his own sick off his shoes. The discovery of Smurfette chopped into 17 distinct pieces will live in his head for a long time. He was once in love with her rebellious sex appeal. This mangled blue wreckage is the result. The blinking neon light of the liquor store across the street croons like a siren, luring yet another lost soul.

Born Natalia Strogannov, daughter of famed Russian poet Boris Strogannov, Smurfette took her first breath inside a forced labor camp in Russia’s Perm region. Like many dissidents critical of the Russian government in the late 1960s, her parents were assassinated, in this case mere moments after her birth. She was adopted and raised by the very soldier who pulled the trigger.

The Gulag and its inhabitants were not kind to Smurfette. Her childhood was more of a tangled knot than a pretty bow. She was often forced to sleep outside in frigid temperatures as punishment for childhood mischief. The frostbite is to blame for Smurfette’s raspy Katharine Hepburn-esque voice, which would eventually earn her top dollar in the world of Dutch pornography.

Beaten and bruised by every person she had ever met, Smurfette fled the Gulag through the howls of a perilous snowstorm, seeking asylum and quick money in the Netherlands. The TV camera became her first and most trusted friend. Classic adult films like “Ik Stront in je Mond!” and “Verontschuldigen, Ik Heb Je Hele Gezicht met mijn Penis Vernietigd” brought a mass following. When television executives at NBC saw her steely gaze, they purchased her contract outright. “The Smurfs” was custom-tailored for her stardom; a flame that burned brightly for over ten years.

Middle age is rarely fun for pretty starlets coasting by on their looks. After years of complete obscurity and inspiring levels of drug abuse, Universal’s 2011 “The Smurfs” reboot showed a much older, creepier looking Smurfette. Audiences were so repulsed by the disturbing live action adaptation that Universal only produced one sequel instead of the industry standard six to eight. Broke again and filled to the brim with hobo semen, Smurfette returned to the crack pipe that had nurtured her most of her life.

The train wasn’t busy the day Smurfette died. Cameras show only one man entering the car after her that morning. Internet conspiracy theorists swear it was the very same Russian guard who raised her in the labor camps all those years ago. Others claim it was Strawberry Shortcake voice actor Russi Taylor. All that remains is grainy footage. Perhaps the mystery and controversy is what Smurfette would have wanted.

Coroner Bufang approaches the crime scene, coffee in hand. He adds one cream, two sugars and no eggs. Eggs make him nauseous. After a few seconds studying the victim, Bufang’s phone buzzes, marking his lunch break. He lays the sandwich, the banana and the Fig Newtons neatly on the table next to the gym bag full of Smurfette and solemnly takes a bite of his sandwich.

“Yep, she’s dead,” said Bufang, completing his work for the day. “God, her mangled body looks just like scrambled eggs. It’s a good thing I always skip the eggs. No eggs is my thing! I’ve been really pushing the idea to that reporter. Kinda mysterious, right? Maybe I’ll get laid.”


 One Response to “Smurfette found dead in gym bag”

  1. Annielewis says:

    Lay down is also a relief

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