Thursday, December 10, 2009

a story by my boy duce.

Rear-view mirror: check. Opcons working great. Like always, reliable. I love things I can rely on. But back to the situation, its amazing how much you can feel fine and in your zone, then with a quick walk across the parking lot; hell, mindlessness, repetition of destruction. Tearing you down lower then the floors you knew to be foundation. It doesn't help its 30 fucking degrees outside, and no one has taken care of your new responsibly of breaking down a million card board boxes, gutted for all they are worth. At least out here with a huge jacket, I don't look employed. No name tag, no logo. you could mistake me for any other mindless parasite in the god forsaken town. But I wonder if any of them have the same gut wrenching hangover that I do. The fucking sailor. Fuck! these drugs aren't working right. Maybe a piss and some warm water to thaw out my hands is what needs to happen. After walking in the front door, you are hit with the stench of these high class pigs complaining about their 75 dollar meal. And once you get past that, the echo of "can I refill that for ya" and "how is that cooked for ya" in this place is enough to drive anyone insane. Its amazing how nice people will be to a complete stranger for a few extra bucks. Scanning the room I see something that sticks out in this bland lifeless tomb. The biggest corn bread hillbilly I have ever seen. Mugging me up and down just as hard as I am him. This fucker looked and smelled like he spent the last 5 years sitting in a trailer in the middle of no where drinking bud light and watching jerry springer as he chain smoked himself to death. He was probably circumsized when he kneed his sister in the jaw. What he was doing here? Adding to the stench, ruining my day, who knows. All I know is that I need to take this piss before my bladder explodes. I enter the empty bathroom and check my eyes again. Apcons still working. BANG! I am startled by the loudest noise I've heard in a while. I'm not easily startled. I hear a thick southern accent "everyone get the fuck on the floor!" "terry, grab that faggot out of the bathroom." I think quick, back left pocket! My hand flies for it. Success. Reliable. I love things that I can rely on. I later came to find out that Terry Hickson had fled his bumb fuck town to avoid being thrown in jail for kidnap and rape. Sick mother fucker, I could see it in his eyes when they met mine. It doesn't seem like he thinks about the things he does too much, but I bet he would have thought twice about intruding that bathroom if he would have known me and my hatchet sized flip action pocket machete were waiting on the other side. It only took one swipe to make this man change his profession from robbery to gasping for air and pleading for his life. Their is nothing like the feeling that warm blood sends down your spine. Its ironic, terry came in here to demand things everyone had, and now he is begging me for things I can't do. At this point, a knee to the chin is all it took to shut him up. Limp lifeless bodies have a hard time holding onto possessions. In this case, terry had a roll of hundreds and a prescription bottle. It seems someone had a drug problem. Terry solved my drug problem. "Put the barrel in your mouth and give me all the money in the register." I can't believe how loud this guy was screaming. He was obviously louder then he was smart. I know that If your looking at the register, your back is to the bathroom door, and it just so happens Terry left my a nice little .357 extended clip semi automatic glock 33. It wasn't hard to open the door without him noticing, he was ranting and raving about killing everyone. I started at the floor, got the site fixed and worked my way up, the second it was at his dome piece, I pulled the trigger. BANG! I knew it would work. Glocks are reliable. I love things I can rely on. Luckily the cashier was a little shorter than oversized hillbilly number 2. Although I'm sure she didn't feel too lucky cleaning brain and blood out of her hair deep into the morning hours.
SNAP OUT OF IT! Jesus christ! Wake up, you need to take this piss before your blader explodes. Your eyes are fine. I guess these damn drugs are working like I want them too. I knew they would. Reliable. I love things I can rely on.