ALL CANDLES ARE $5 OFF FROM NOW UNTIL MONDAY
ANGRY STEPDAD
WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR, YOU CHEAPFUCK?
CANDLE
16 OUNCES
$29.99
$34.99
WAX MELTS
10 PIECES
$14.99
THE EXPERIENCE
IT'S 6PM ON A MONDAY. YOU'RE HOME FROM COLLEGE, ENJOYING AN ENTIRE SUMMER'S WORTH OF POUNDING OFF TO ANIME PORN IN YOUR OLD BEDROOM. YOU CAN'T EVEN REMEMBER HOW LONG YOU'VE BEEN IN THERE, BUT IF THE ENORMOUS PILE OF OLD. CRUSTY JIZZ RAGS IN THE CORNER IS ANY INDICATION, IT'S BEEN A WHILE. YOU'VE BEEN IN COMPLETE SOLITUDE THE WHOLE TIME. YOUR STEPDAD IS OUT OF TOWN FOR WORK AND YOUR MOM COMPLETELY FORGOT YOU EXISTED; LIKE SHE ALWAYS DOES. IT'S JUST BEEN YOU AND YOUR EXHAUSTED LITTLE SOFTDICK. YOU START TO FEEL LIGHT HEADED. YOU REALIZE YOU MIGHT NEED SOME GATORADE TO REPLENISH ALL THE FLUIDS YOU'VE BEEN LOSING; MAYBE SOME FUCKING YOGURT, TOO. AS YOU WALK THROUGH THE HOUSE, YOU NOTICE SHADOWS CASTING ALL OVER THE WALLS THROUGH THE WINDOWS. IT'S GRASS, OVER 3 FEET TALL. YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO MOW THE LAWN, BUT YOU WERE TOO BUSY BEING A SLOPPY, DEGENERATE LOSER. BY THE TIME YOU HEAR A PICKUP TRUCK PULLING INTO THE DRIVEWAY, IT'S TOO LATE. YOUR STEPDAD IS HOME AND HE'S FUCKING PISSED. YOU CAN FEEL HIS RAGE INCREASING WITH EACH STEP AS HIS CRISP BLUE DENIM JEANS ARE BUKKAKED WITH GRASS STAINS. HE KICKS THE FRONT DOOR OFF THE HINGES AND WALKS IN, GRIPPING HIS BELT TIGHTLY IN BOTH HANDS LIKE HE'S BRANDISHING A GREATSWORD. IT CRACKS THROUGH THE AIR AND SNAPS YOU RIGHT IN THE DICKLIPS FROM ACROSS THE LIVING ROOM. YOU FALL TO THE FLOOR, CURLING UP INTO THE FETAL POSITION. YOUR ATTEMPTS TO SUBMIT ONLY ANGER HIM MORE, SO HE PICKS YOU UP AND DRIBBLES YOU ALL OVER THE HOUSE LIKE A FUCKING BASKETBALL. YOU DON'T BOTHER CALLING FOR HELP. YOUR MOM IS HOME, BUT SHE WOULDN'T GIVE A SHIT. SHE'S BEEN IN BED ALL DAY, DRINKING WINE AND ICING HER FLAPS, RECOVERING FROM THE ABSOLUTE MEAT POUNDING HE GAVE HER BEFORE HE LEFT. (THIS GUY HAS A MUCH BIGGER DICK THAN YOUR ACTUAL DAD). HE TOSSES YOU IN THE AIR AND SUPLEXES YOU INTO THE COFFEE TABLE SO HARD YOU SHIT YOUR PANTS. WHEN YOU REGAIN CONSCIOUSNESS, YOU'RE LYING ON A PILE OF DEBRIS, COVERED IN PISS. YOU LICK YOUR LIPS. WAIT, THAT'S NOT PISS, THAT'S WHISKEY. IT'S NOT BAD EITHER; KIND OF SWEET AND STICKY. YOU WANT ANOTHER TASTE, SO YOU LICK YOUR LIPS AGAIN. NOPE, IT'S PISS, YOU WERE RIGHT THE FIRST TIME. YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHOSE PISS IT IS, TOO. BUT YOU WON'T DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT BECAUSE YOU'RE A COWARD AND A GIANT PUSSY. YOU RETREAT BACK TO YOUR ROOM, SO YOU CAN SPEND THE REST OF THE NIGHT JERKING OFF AND CRYING. YOU'RE PATHETIC.
SCENTS
BURBOUN - CUT GRASS - BELT LEATHER
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