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Music Addict
Join Date: Apr 2008
Posts: 203
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Here's a new one for you lovers, wannabe lovers, internet creepers, miscellaneous, etc. It was a brief exercise please don't be overly critical it would hurt me so.
My Party
“Tell me where they are, or the other nipple gets it,” I utter fist gently squeezing clippers.
“Wait, no, dear god,” my victim croons, in between spurts of blood, one nipple lying on the floor in a pool of blood. “I didn't do anything with your family, man. Oh God,” and he starts sobbing.
I flashback to military training camp. Now, when you spot an Iraqi with his family he's playing the family man. It's an act, he's armed, he knows where your family is and is plotting to kill them. Shoot to kill, the Southern drawl drowns from my consciousness.
“Goddamn it tell me where!” My fingers curl, a nipple comes off, like a broken fountain pen blood spurts on my Denim jacket. A bloodcurdling fills the air tearing it open like a can opener and some pineapples.
That was useless, I think, leaving the house. I walk on the pavement the sun rays rising under me shimmering. Always a good time for a drink so I pop in a bar. One lager please I tell him. “Always a good time for a drink,” I say to the fellow sitting beside me. A-huh-a-huh-a-huh, he is crying. “Why are you crying fellow?” I ask him.
“My wife left me. A-huh-huh-huh, oh God, she's ****ing someone else,” he promptly returns to sobbing into his beer.
“Well, look, that needn't bother you, for all you know she could be dead this very moment. Then how silly would you feel? Crying over a dead, nonexistent thing!” I pat him on the shoulder. He slumps into the beer, as if hit by a brickbat.
“How can you say that? What if I said I kidnapped your kids? Oh but don't worry, I might have killed them already. You're ****ed up,” my party says.
Here's a bunker you'll use for cover during munitions exchange. The trick is to get your toes planted as close as possible to this corner so you can dodge out real quick and fire one off. Also, if you happen to hear one coming, this is the best planting for a stealth execution, you just wait... listen for footsteps... and catch 'em around the neck with your arm, bring 'em down like this with your knees, and twist the neck like this.
A bull, muscles wrapped in black overcoat, charges around a packed stadium. My eyes regain focus. “Planet Mars to planet Earth, where the **** are you?”
“Shouldn't you be sobbing into your beer?”
“Up yours, space case.”
“Want some peanuts?”
“No not from you they're probably laced.”
“They're right here on the table you should have some.”
“You're creeping me out, seriously get lost.”
“What would you tell the devil if you met him in hell?”
“You ****ed my wife! I hate you... a-huh-a-huh...”
“Oh, it's O.K., drink some more, it'll be alright.”
“Really?”
“Yes.” My party chugs the beer.
“Ah. Hey what's your name? I'm—”
“Hey do you like parties, or what?”
“Not really, I'm not very sociable. Another beer!” My party yells.
“Well we should go to one. Tonight, come on, I know of one.”
“I don't know... I was going to drive home, watch an old movie on T.V., and call my wife, which she'll probably find sad and pathetic...”
“Just listen to yourself, you're dying to get outside, don't be a sore sport.”
“Here let me finish this beer, I'll think about it.”
I go to the bathroom and come back to find my party has left. Damn, a smart dog. I leave money for the lager and a tip.
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