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In Happy
I has a blog: Part 1 or, I'm Hungry and Odd
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#1
 01-19-2007 08:27 AM |
Hmmm, so this is a blog eh?
Well how's about some literature for this blog.
I killed a man once. I did it just to watch him die, and I killed his family as well. Wanna know why? Because I got a kick out of it. Ha! I know what you’re thinking... and you're right. I am insane. Many people have told me that. Who you ask? Well they couldn’t tell you even if they wanted to. See you need a tongue to speak and hands to write. I even cut off their feet to keep them from scribbling with those. Many people wonder when a person snaps, when they break, what is the breaking point. Well as from one who has broken let me tell you... it ain’t pretty.
I was normal not long ago... but that’s when it happened. That’s when he showed up. Picture this, you’re driving to work trying to make money to support your wife and two kids, You’re in a hurry so you go a little over the speed limit. That’s when Officer ObviouslyIhavenolifethatswhyIlove pickingonpoorpeople gets behind you and turns on his lights. Now you explain what happened. So okay, I really don’t have a wife and two kids. The wife is a blowup doll and the kids are these little puppets I stole from a children's outreach. So of course, Mr. Ihavenoheart writes you a one hundred dollar ticket. FOR WHAT! For going twenty over the limit in a school zone!!! They are kids for Christ’s sake, what do they have to look forward to? More finger painting? So of course, like all good citizens, I ripped it up, flipped him off, and pulled down my pants and stuck my ass out the window. This is where he reached for the mace and I let one rip. Lets just say that didn’t make him happy. So after he was through tazering me, he tossed me into the back of his squad car. That’s where I where I tried to cut a little deal with him you know. He lets me go and I will let him have what he wants. Well after he was through re-tazering me, he took me to jail. That’s not a pretty place let me tell you. Also... never drop the soap in the shower. Well that’s what this guy named Bubba tells me. I swear he kept saying, "Drop the soap and Bubba goin' get ya.” So after I was let out on a release for being "unstable", I was sent to get some things from my home.
That’s where the trouble really started you see. I came home and found my house vandalized. Someone had mistakenly spray painted the word, "Freak”, and "Sex Offender" all over it. After going in I saw what caused me to snap... My wife lying there on the living room floor, stabbed to death. Obviously by her position they had their fun first.... the devils. I ran into the children’s room to find them gone, only with a note, "We have taken these puppets back to where the belong. -Your local Children's Outreach Center".
So the bastards want to play rough, eh? Well two can play at this game. I ran into my room and locked the door. I knew the officer who drove me here was still waiting outside for me so I knew I had to be quick. I opened the closet and got out the M-16, with optional grenade launcher, that I had bought at the Army/Navy store. I also grabbed some extra ammo and grenades. I knew I had to act quickly if I wanted to succeed.
As I ran out the door screaming in Arabic to confuse the cop, I let the bullets fly. I was going to use a grenade but decided I could us his car. After I had neutralized that threat I hoped in that car. I had only one place I needed to go... the local Children's Outreach Center. As I drove I became more enraged.... with rage. As I pulled up I realized they had expected retaliation and put up a front. Who would expect a sixty-year-old woman helping retarded five year olds? I would... that’s who. As I jumped out I aimed at this bigheaded kid to my left. Why you ask? Mostly because I think someone with that freakishly large of a head should be killed. I fired a grenade into a circle of poor seven and eight year olds from the projects. I kicked in the door and fired a few shot to keep my enemy from firing at me. As the kids scattered I saw my target, or at least something that would lead me to my long lost children. It was like a sign.... well actually it was a sign, and it read, "Puppet Center". I remembered them referring to my children as their puppets, so I ran down that hallway firing ammo at these little demon creatures carrying crayons, they screamed like banshees they did. I fired a grenade behind me and into a room to keep them pinned down. All my thoughts were concentrated on getting little Billy and John back now.
While running I saw a doorway up ahead. I could see light spilling forth from it, mostly because my well-placed grenade blew the lights in most rooms. As I neared my heart grew cold... it was the puppet room. As I used my foot to swing the door open I fired at all that moved. Amidst the flying blood and loud screams I saw them... just hanging there on a wall... Like poor holocaust victims. I ran to them and grabbed the in my arms, but I knew we had to leave.
I reached over and grabbed a backpack that had been spared by my fury and placed them inside. I left it partially unzipped because Johnny had always been afraid of the dark. As I backtracked my way through the bloody halls I encountered some heavier resistance. I swear it was that bastard cop that started all of this. I raised my rifle at him, I was going to make him pay... but all he did was speak. "Mr. Smithenbock, please put that pencil down or I will have to give you another shot."
This dumbfounded me of course. As I started firing, my bullets seemed to have no effect. That’s when two giant men walk right through the walls. RIGHT THROUGH THEM! They grabbed me and the cop pulled out a syringe. "Its all going to be okay Mr. Smithenbock, this should make you feel better.
Believe me when I say that 'better' truly is a relative term. I felt woozy from the shot, and only the two giants held me up. The walls and spattered remains of my enemies all started melting away. All of the sudden it kinda had this hospital look. That’s when I must have passed out. When I woke up I was here... in this weird prison. Luckily my children are here as well. Every Tuesday night I get to go see them, but so do all the other 'prisoners'. They get up on this little stage and are forced to perform strange plays. I cry for them every night.... I wish I could tell you more, but I hear someone coming. If anyone gets this... please come help me. I turned on my locator so Superman can find me. I must go for now, bye.
"Mr. Smithenbock, you aren’t talking into the ping pong ball again are you?"
Oh, and remember:
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