61 “You ruffian of questionable lineage, the old man in the Cadillac shouted, you won't gull-cully me ”

Says:

“You ruffian of questionable lineage, the old man in the Cadillac shouted, you won't gull-cully me ”

“Gull-cully? What do you mean--” but before he could finish he was dead.

The man in the Cadillac let out maniacal laughter as he peeled out down the street. And he was never seen again.

60 "Oh, right, gravity," he said, peeling her from the road.

Says:

"Oh, right, gravity," he said, peeling her from the road.

She giggled as her arms began to re-inflate. It was a high pitched airy giggle, that cut through the air around her. Her voice began to return to its normal pitch as the rest of her body returned to its regular size.

“Thanks,” she said as her giggling subsided.

“Anytime, babe. Anytime.”

“You know what though? As fun as that was, I want to go back to the last one. The planet with the spongy surface. You remember dear?”

“Of course. And you know what sweetheart?” he said with a grin, “I love being an immortal who travels planet to planet only to fall all the way through its atmosphere and land on its crust. The joys of being rich.”

59 “Well pillage my village,” she said in a lusty pirate tone.

Says:

“Well pillage my village,” she said in a lusty pirate tone.

“You aren’t coming,” said the man in a red hat. He was carrying his keyboard and mouse through the door as she caught his arm and tugged it.

“Please matey You know how I loves the pirating,” she said with a seductive grin on her face.

“Dear, it’s not what you think. It’s downloading things illegally. It’s not boats and peg legs,” he said rolling his eyes.

“I just want to be involved in what you’re doing. You never take me anywhere. I don’t care where, even if it is just with your friends and your computer,” she said dropping the accent, “You’re always going out with them, and leaving me home alone. I was just trying to make you happy.”

His frustrated glare slowly turned to a smile as he pulled her close into a hug. “You can come,” he sighed, “you might be bored though.”

“Aye aye captain ” she said with a wink.

58 “He was still ten years old.”

Says:

“He was still ten years old.” The man’s smile faded as he realized what he had just said. It was true, and he hated himself for it.

“Maybe I pushed him too hard. Maybe my expectations were too high,” the man continued. His eyes moistened and began to form tears, but he held them back.

“I just wanted him to be everything that he could be.”

He shifted awkwardly in his chair and was silent. Eventually the tears dried and he just sat. The smile eventually creeped back onto his face and he began again, “I loved my boy. Best thing that ever happened to me. If only he hadn’t died. He was still ten years old.”

As he repeated the same things over and over he only made it worse. He lived in the past and he didn’t change. His life was the same thing over and over. A record skipping back through the same section of a song.

57 "Carrots," he murmured, karate-chopping the table.

Says:

"Carrots," he murmured, karate-chopping the table.

He never really had enjoyed having knives for hands, but at least it was bringing in a decent living. Being the head chef in the most expensive restaurant in all of New York wasn’t all bad.

It was just the carrots. He hated carrots. There were two things that he had always hated ever since that fateful day and those were Nazis and of course, carrots.

He hated their color. He hated their smell, their taste, their texture. He just couldn’t stand it. He finished with the carrots he was chopping with his knive-hands and scooped them into the pot.

“Order for carrots a la mode,” came a cry through the door.

A fire filled the knive-handed man’s eyes and he let out a cry. It was that night that he decided not to karate chop carrots with his sharp metallic vestiges. He decided to karate chop humans.

56 It was at that point his head exploded.

Says:

It was at that point his head exploded. It wasn’t like he had expected it or wanted it to happen, but it happened nonetheless. And such is fate.

His name was Ronnie and he was a mild mannered college student. He was a normal boy, with normal problems. He had just been walking to class one day when it happened. For no reason in the slightest. At first he would complain about it, asking ‘why me?’ and ‘why now?’ He cried at night not knowing how he would make it through the next day.

It was on the fourteenth day of October that he deciding to change things for himself. Ronnie was a bigger man than all this whining and he decided to press on. He began to be more outgoing and making more of an effort to have more friends. By the end of the month he was not only invited to all the hip Halloween parties, but he definitely had the best costume.

The moral of this fine tale is thus: don’t complain about your life, because you probably don’t have it as bad as Ronnie. So stop whining all you emo sissies.

55 Marie says: lol wur r u wearing rite no?

Says:

Marie says:
lol wur r u wearing rite no?

Frankie J says:
What the hell? Who is this?

Marie says:
omg! dn’t u no?

Frankie J says:
I apologize, but off the top of my head I don’t know any autistic chimpanzees who have access to the internet.

Marie says:
lol

Frankie J says:
Seriously though, why are you talking to me?

Frankie J says:

Scratch that. Why are you trying to communicate with me?

Marie says:
I’m going to kill you in seven days.

Frankie J has signed off

Marie says:
?

Marie has signed off

Why do I even try thought Frankie as he powered off the monitor. The internet just isn’t the place to meet women. It’s just so frustrating. It’s just full of freaks and weirdoes trying to get their kicks.

And with that Frankie grabbed three gerbils off of the counter, as well as a rubber ducky and a paint can and headed off to the closet.

54 "Can I borrow your nylons," he asked boldly.

Says:

"Can I borrow your nylons," he asked boldly.

The two ladies in the elevator gave each other a suspicious look before slipping them off and handing them to the man who had come through the escape hatch in the roof. They had been stuck for an hour and he had just shown up. They were ready to do anything to get out of there.

He took the nylons and took a good smell of both before laying them on the ground. He spit out his gum and set it along side. He then laid out four paperclips and a rubber band before standing up to assess what he had.

He then got to work. Within minutes he had crafted a harpoon gun with a grappling hook attachment, and even custom fit harnesses.

He clamped the two ladies in before firing the gun towards the ceiling of the shaft. They were lifted up and swung out of the doors and into the man’s private room.

The two ladies were so impressed that they had sex with him. A lot of sex.

53 “Is that a painting of... yourself?”

Says:

“Is that a painting of... yourself?”

“Yes. Yes, I suppose it is,” said the man in the crimson robe smoking a pipe. His face went from distinguished to smarmy as he proceeded to describe his exploits.

Count Worthington had called together to the press conference to speak of his next grand adventure in the Amazons. Being a wealthy millionaire he did this sort of thing all the time, catching plenty of big game which he stuffed and displayed about his mansion.

He was a notoriously good hunter, and was always looking for the next big challenge. This press conference would help him find this next target.

After hunting every beast imaginable, there was only one left at the top of his list: a human being.

He waited for the most opportune moment, to choose his target from the crowd and answered questions in the mean time.

“Count Worthington? Is it true that you’re all about the color purple?” said a voice in the crowd.

Worthington cringed and realized that he had found his target. “I hate purple,” he screamed, “Now die!”

And with that the chase had begun.

52 “A splendid time is guaranteed for all!”

Says:

“A splendid time is guaranteed for all!” The voice roared through the crowd and I heard Tabitha giggle a bit next to me before tugging on my arm.

“Just ignore him Tabitha. He’s a carnie. It’s his job,” I said without looking, but instead trying to pull her the opposite direction.

“Awww, come on Richie. I just want to see what’s in the tent.”

I make the mistake of glancing back at her and it’s all over. I look into her deep brown eyes and melt. I can only sigh as she pulls me toward the red and yellow pavilion. “Fine, but only for you.”

As we enter and pay the absurd five dollars a piece fee we begin to look around. Freaks as far and wide as the eye can see. A bearded lady, the largest man and the smallest. I feel my stomach twist into knots and I feel like vomiting.

I hate carnies.

I hear Tabitha laughing one minute and shuddering the next. She goes through her freak filled fun fest while I concentrate and the floor. I don’t dare look up, but instead shuffle my feet and pull her slightly towards the exit. She tugs back and I let loose. Vomit hits her face and chest and she screams.

She ran off and I didn’t see her again. I never should have taken her to the circus on our first date. Especially not since I’m allergic to carnies.

51 “Take me to a cemetery,” he said, “and make sure it's the dodgy one.”

Says:

“Take me to a cemetery,” he said, “and make sure it's the dodgy one.”

Mob boss Taneka was the leader over all of the Yakuzas in Hokkaido, and had been for only a little over two days. He was infamous for his quick rise to power, taking out the previous boss Mishinoku and ten of his bodyguards at once. It is rumored that he had made a pact with the devil to gain such strength. Others say that he trained since his father was killed by Mishinoku’s men. In truth it was a sort of combination of the two.

Taneka was twelve when his father was killed in front of him. He watched through the slit of the closet doors as three burly men stabbed him over and over. They laughed and drank over the corpse before they left. After a day of hiding in the closet for fear of them coming back, one of his father’s friends found him through the sound of his stifled crying. He explained to Taneka what had happened and took it upon himself to take care of him.

Taneka was a reserved child, spending little time on anything other then training. All hours of the day he trained. It was never enough, though. His mind and his body became nearly perfect in all aspects, and none rivaled him. It was at this point that he decided it time to seek out his revenge.

He attacked Hakkaido’s empire, one soldier at a time. He took out fifteen of his men before the alarm was even sounded. Soon enough another fifteen had come to replace them in the fight. Outnumbered greatly, he fought his best but lost. Nearly dead, they took his lump of a body to the cemetery and threw it out of the car and onto the lawn.

As he lay there, and breathed his last breaths, he begged for a way to finish what he had started. A devil heard this plea and answered it, giving him life and strength to do what he need do.

Taneka did what he had set out for and now he was coming back to repay his debt. Taneka did not fear death now that he had his revenge. It would be a welcome end to his tragic story.

As they pulled into the cemetery, they saw a group of men clustered around a grave. He got out of his car and began to approach them. He saw their black suits and red ties, and knew their purpose. They were a rival gang to the Yakuzas and this would have to be a trap.

Taneka just wanted to end it, but it would not be that easy for him. He pulled out his pistol as he ran towards the group. He took out three of the five before they even saw him. The others, now alerted, began to panic as Taneka pulled a dagger from near his ankle and began to slash wildly. He slit one’s throat and left the dagger lodged in the other’s heart.

He looked down at where they were and saw fresh dirt piled atop of a grave. He looked at the pile of corpses and saw a blood splattered program. These men were attending a funeral, and he had killed them. He had killed five innocent men.

His blood chilled and he could hear the devil laugh. His soul was not enough for the demon, and it was at this point that Taneka realized that he had become the man he set out to kill.

50 How trite.

Says:

How trite. I can’t believe he’s really trying that of all things. It’s just so tired and bored, I can hardly stand it. I suppose I’d better go show him what’s what.

“Johnny, sweetheart, darling. You’re doing it all wrong,” I tell him, “You’ve just got to do it with more pizzazz.”

I walk through the clamoring crowd to him and grab his guns from him. “See, try doing more spins and tossing your guns about in the air. Oooh, and maybe let out an ‘Ay carumba!’”

The poor dear doesn’t get it, so I begin to demonstrate. I hop onto a table in the crowded restaurant and begin to spin arms held out wide and guns ablaze. Some of the swarming patrons fall dead while the rest come forward slowly. I strike a pose as one of them begins to grab at me. I wink at Johnny before dramatically spinning both guns above my head then letting them reek havoc on the scum.

Johnny smiles as I toss him one of my guns. I catch a glimpse of him doing a behind the back shot and my heart skips a beat. He’s finally getting it.

“It’s like I always tell you Johnny,” I say with a smile, “if you’re going to kill zombies do it in style!”

49 He poked himself in the eye to wake up.

Says:

He poked himself in the eye to wake up. A miniscule fountain of blood splurted out and down onto his shirt. He got out of the chair and began to pace, blood still slowly streaming down his cheek.

"Can't fall asleep, now can I?" he said to himself.

His pace began to slow as he walked over to the fireplace and leaned against its brick wall. He could feel his eyes begin to droop. He bent over and took a switchblade from his ankle and stabbed himself in the knee.

"That ought to keep me up," he mumbled.

He walked over to the closet in the far corner of the room and pulled out his medical supplies. He began to dress his many wounds. He looked through the medicine supplies and found adrenaline. He injected himself and began to pace more quickly. He looked around the room for something to do or take and his eyes landed on the desk drawer.

He opened it to find three pills of speed and swallowed them almost instantly with no water. His pace quickened even moreso and he finally sat back down into his chair. His fingers rapped on the arms of the chair as his breathe quickened.

He surely wouldn't fall asleep now. And they can't find him when he's not asleep.

48 "Man," he said, "I hate French so le much.”

Says:

"Man," he said, "I hate French so le much.”

“Ah, ah ah. A française,” scolded the teacher in her falsetto accent. To this Peter could only groan.

“Je deteste française,” he mumbled softly.

“Peirre Mais, porqui?” she asked sounding genuinely hurt.

Peter hated this part of French. Ever since he had signed up for class, she had tried to take over his life. Everywhere he turned she was there correcting his accent and grammar. Just yesterday she found him at the mall, but this was just too weird.

“Mrs. Trotter, don’t you think it’s a little bit weird that you’re over here at my house?”

“Ah, ah ah. A française.”

“Um. Yeah. This is weird, I’ll show you to the door.”

“La porte?”

“Yes Mrs. Trotter, the ‘porte.’”

Pete opened the door for her and showed her out. He waited till she was out of sight to close the door. He let out a scream and slid down to the floor. It was at this exact moment that he realized the française would never end.

47 “Excuse me, sir, he said, but where can I find the pudding?”

Says:

“Excuse me, sir, he said, but where can I find the pudding?”

I grunt before turning around and slugging the guy. Hard. I didn’t like this job anyway. I never wanted to work in a supermarket. That was my father’s dream. He trained day and night for it, but was never accepted. I was supposed to make up for his failure.

But not anymore. Never again. From this day on, I will be my own man. Not my father’s. I won’t do what he says anymore. I refuse. I’m not following him. It’s my dreams now. My way or the highway. No. Not again. Ever.

I will become what I’d always truly hoped for. The artiste that I truly am. A construction worker.

46 “Are you the one that I’ve been waiting for?”

Says:

“Are you the one that I’ve been waiting for?”

“Yes, I do believe I am,” said the man eating ham.

“Splendid then. Shall we be off?” replied the other with a cough.

“Yes, I suppose we should.”

“On the way, shall we grab some wood?”

“Yes, yes we shall, we’ll make good timing.”

“But what is going on with our author’s rhyming?”

They paused and sighed in annoyance, repulsed by their author’s newfound flamboyance. They tried to run, and they tried to hide, but in the end everyone died. And such this tale, a lesson should be. Don’t mess with writers or they’ll freaking kill you.

45 "That's no glass eye."

Says:

"That's no glass eye."

They all laughed. Even I did. It was indeed, a killer punch line. I listened for their laughter to subside, but the uproarious noise continued. This was as good a time as any.

I slipped my hand into my pocket and pressed the button. An invisible deadly nerve agent began to make its way through the vents and into the audience. As they laughed harder and harder, their panting sucked in mouthfuls of gas.

Soon enough they were all dead. It was a good thing though. Every face was frozen in mid-laugh. Each and every one of them had enjoyed death.

I only did it because I cared.

44 "That'll be a problem," he said, "since I'm allergic to most plastics."

Says:

"That'll be a problem," he said, "since I'm allergic to most plastics."

I roll my eyes and hand over the package. “Plastic explosives aren’t going to set off your allergies. Besides, it’s in a package. We’ve been through this over and over again. All you have to do is take this box here, all the way to our good friend Paco’s house way over there. Got it?”

His empty smile and nod tell me nothing. I watch as he starts to turn around and walk away before jerking back and asking more questions: “Wait… what? Why did you call him our ‘good friend’? I thought this was going to kill him?”

Ever since I came here I’ve had these sorts of problems. Maybe it’s the language barrier or the culture. All I know is that it’s screwing with my business. This was the problem with outsourcing labor in the mafia. You can always count on a foreigner to mess things up.

“Look, just take the package would ya?”

He turns once more and begins to walk towards the red stucco house. I can finally relax. I see him walking up to it, but he doesn’t stop. He keeps walking.

And walking. He goes three houses down and sets the package on the doorstep of a stranger’s house. On top of it all, he hits the detonator without leaving.

Bits of my Hispanic lackey paint the walls. I can only sigh as I take out my cell phone and order three more replacements.

43 He extinguished the cigarette on his arm.

Says:

He extinguished the cigarette on his arm. His face went from relaxed to panicked as he let out a yelp. He shook his arm frantically, waving it around and shouting at the top of his lungs every obscenity imaginable. He ran over to the sink and began to run water over it, still cursing all while. Tears streamed down his cheek as he began to run, arms flailing.

So much for being macho.