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Some Barbarian Had Wet Sex In The Son Of A Boy Dad Studio And Didn't Clean Up At All

Yesterday, the Son of a Boy Dad team entered our brand new studio to a horrifying sight. The place had been fucked in, on, and through. This wasn't no gentle, tender love-making either; it was vengeful hate sex guided by pornographic expectations. Whoever had sex in our studio is a deviant with an insatiable appetite for flesh. 

Look at this place before:

Pristine. Sparkling. Unfucked. 

And then yesterday:

The big sign had been ripped off the wall and was lying on the ground. As though whoever had come in for their nut cannot stand the podcast and needed the SON OF A BOY DAD sign taken down in order to get it up. This person wanted to mark their mating territory and removed the most overt symbol we had before getting to business. Like when you'd go to bang in your parents' bedroom and you'd flip all the family photos facedown first. Animals! 

One of the extremely expensive microphones was shoved roughly behind the couch:

When we righted the microphone, it smelled strongly of a bouillabaisse filled with yesterday's catch. Poor Sas had to inhale vaginal discharge fumes for the entirety of the episode. 

Another picture had been taken down and sat flat on the couch. There were traces of cokey fishtails and wet fingerprints from gum-numbing thumb rubs:

Everywhere we looked, the signs of a bacchanalia grew ever more sickening. But by far the most disgusting, disrespectful act was what they did to our plant:

You can't tell from this angle but behind the plant is a pile of dirt mixed with human ejaculate. They then used this makeshift ink to write "Lil Sas is a cum trough" in the carpet. Vile doesn't even begin to describe it. 

The weirdest part of all this was that throughout our episode recording, various employees of the third floor kept opening the door and poking their heads in. They'd come in, realize we were in there, and then say "sorry, sorry" and back out quickly. 

I wish I were kidding about this. I mean this genuinely: what the fuck happened in here? How did the Son of a Boy Dad studio become the dirty mattress you find at truck stops for post-lunch lot lizard liaisons? Is this their revenge for the time we smoked cigars? Because that is not a tit-for-tat, folks. Not even close. 

We did our best to push through the filth on the episode. Give it a whirl: 

Watch, listen, enjoy