An Edumacation for You Dumb Cunts: Part Drei
Madball
Hardcore Punk
1988-Present
So I'm chillin' in my bedroom one day thinking about what a s
hitty day I'd just had. I was fired from my job, my car got rear-ended by some as
shole with no insurance, and my girlfriend had just filed a restraining order against me. That bitch. So I did the only thing I could do to forget that the world had just had diarrhea in my mouth. I put on Madball's debut album,
Set It Off. As soon as I pressed play, Freddy Cricien, Madball's vocalist, busted a hole in my wall and stalked into my room. He then stepped up to me and punched me in the face. I was knocked back against the wall, and then he kicked me in the chest. This knocked the wind out of me and dropped me to the floor. He then kicked me in the face, shattering my nose. Blood was now gushing down my face and soaking my shirt. Crician proceeded to repeatedly punch me in the face, pounding my head against the wall, and knocked several of my teeth out. Not content with this wanton brutality, he grabbed me by the hair and kneed me in the face, breaking my jaw. He then dragged me by the hair into the middle of my room and began kicking me in the stomach. I was pretty sure that he'd broken several of my ribs, and possibly ruptured one of my kidneys. Now he grabbed my hair again and started slamming my head into the floor. In the pool of blood under my face I saw what remained of my front teeth. For the next twenty-six minutes and thirty-eight seconds he continued to beat me senseless. After the album was over Cricien loudly hocked a loogey, and spat on my broken body. With that he knocked another hole in my wall and left, stealing my Spiderman comic books along the way. Summoning the last of my strength I managed to crawl to my stereo. Then I pressed play...