Priority and Perspective or a Lack Thereof

The fingers trembled but that was just a sign of hunger. The pistol didn’t really feel all that heavy and Ben knew that he should have eaten breakfast today. The white tile floor was covered with blood and everyone was still screaming. Ben for his part was pretty calm in the face of crisis. All Ben did was shoot into the crowd and that really did help him think.

As the police surrounded the Diner, Ben realized it was still breakfast hour and all that annoyance, all those bullets had been for not. Sadly, he sat back down at his booth where he proceeded to put the pistol to his temple and pull. His last thoughts were of a Denver omelet.

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The Elephant in the Thin Allegory

There are no words to describe it but the words I’ve got. I have a monopoly as I have the only eye witness account of an elephant who happened to have a laser turret installed in it’s mouth. If that’s not worth a beer, I don’t know what it is.

Story first?

Fine.

Steve was born in Kenya and everyone thought he was a strong, virile elephant. His parents had said as much and the rest of the community agreed. As he grew from calf into a man he started noticing Veronica, a beautiful cow if ever there was one. She was in fact the most beautiful woman in the whole of the elephant of the high school.

Yes, elephants have high schools, where do you think elephants go to learn their vocations? I mean where can you get an apprenticeship any more?

Anyways, turns out that Veronica, yeah she was a bitch. After Veronica basically forced Steve to quit college so that they could focus on her doctorate, she up and left him. Then Steve was on his own and the lack of financial support left him in the slums of… Africa.

Humanities.

No, Veronica was still an elephant smartass.

Oh how did he he get a laser turret installed in his mouth? He went to an elephant surgeon because he was starting to feel afraid in that neighborhood and he needed something to protect himself. After he got the thing, he’d find himself on a lonely night just cocking the hammer and cycling through the chambers. The clicks as the trigger fell on empty cylinders gave him the illusion of control that he so desired.

Yeah, apparently the laser was detachable and it wasn’t loaded. Thank god for that.

How do I know this? Look, I told you a story now I just want my drink. Actually, no, I want a bigger drink. I want the remains of that bottle of Inverhouse.

You want another story? Fine.

Did I ever tell you the story about Steve the giraffe who had to use autoerotic asphyxiation to combat the overwhelming depression that resulted from Virgina the mythical queen of whores leaving him?

Yeah, all I want is the bottle.

Thanks, been a pleasure doing business with you.

The Romance Of The War Criminals

As the fire finally died, Linton looked down at the huge gaping lack of a city. 400,00 souls all dead and made indistinguishable from their house. From dust we come and to dust we go but still it didn’t seem quite fair. The screams would not leave, nor the flailing of the soon to die, or worst of all the delicious terrible smell. Every damn bit was there inside him etched into his bones. Barbara on the other hand, had stars in her eyes

Linton became lost in the deep blue lakes surrounding her pupils. He gained his orientation and slowly pulled back but it was his will greatly taxxed. There she was 5’7, stuffed with eight miles of sunshine. She was moving with a bounce in her step that was slightly unbecoming of the usually sad and distant woman. Before he could really say anything she was going back into the city with her 9mm hoping to pick of anyone who might have survived.

“We’re forever now Linton! They’ll always remember us.”

All she ever wanted was to make her mark. After twenty crates of various ammunitions, five tons of Semtex and one low yield nuclear warhead they had done just that. All the slaughter was worth it if only to see Barbara happy. Sure one day he would hang and fall to Hell but he had witnessed Heaven on this Earth. Few could make that claim.

The Baby After The Sad Drunken Bloody Sticky Night

The sound is that of a toaster meeting a compactor or a shriek meeting an old dial up modem. She is shrill and six months old and for a moment Ben is capable of killing her. The moment passes but those moments always scare Ben. If the world moves just a little differently one day maybe he will. It occurs to Ben that maybe, everyone thinks this from time to time. The difference is, Ben has proof that he could kill.

The moment stays in the back of his mind. It starts with a drink and then a bit later, a bouncer is involved. Suddenly, Ben is outside in the cold night air. Ben is walking back… east. Seeing as though home is two miles west, it’s safe to say it’s taking Ben a good while to get home. Ben hobbles on, unsure of why he was going east or more importantly why his father bought him a compass in the first place. He wanted a giraffe.

Downtown is a labyrinth to the 80 proof set and Ben is no different. He gives up on going east and tries his hand at finding a donut shop. He makes sure to look at the compass at all times in order to know how far the donut shop is. Of course, the compass can’t tell him this. Ben is pretty sure it’s a design flaw.

Then out of the steam and smokes, enters a man just like Orson Welles. Actually he’s of slight build and has nowhere near the memorable face but Ben was later sure that the man’s entrance was just like the second man in the movie The Third Man. This other man has a knife and wants money. Ben wants a bed.

A fight ensues, actually it’s just a push and then a wine bottle and then a dead man. Ben sobers with the dead man as the police come; 911 had been called by the donut store across the street. There were eyewitnesses galore and everyone vindicated him, except Ben. Ben never vindicates Ben and never would. In his eyes, he is a murder.

But Melissa needs a new diaper and the rest can wait.

Cathy Lieberstein’s Radical Stance

“I don’t believe in killing the Irish.”

This was one of many radical stances that Cathy Lieberstein had. It was really only radical in that she was running for the Indiana State School Board. Prior to this, no one really stated their stance on murder. Mostly they ran with strong stances for vouchers and hot lunches but Cathy really changed the game. No one could even imagine running without stating their position on the murder of the sons of Erin. This in turn boiled down to the politicians belief in the controversial constitutional right to murder*.

For her part, Cathy was at the forefont of the no murder movement in and shoe in for the board. Then she went and flipped flopped on the issue destroying her base of loyal supporters and making her look weak kneed and unable to face the inability to actually do anything meaningful. No one thought she could handle resting on her laurels, not after the poor boy died underneath her car. This is to say nothing of what the Irish community thought of her overall.

So, Cathy Lieberstein proved to be just another politician that couldn’t stand by her principles. For shame.

 

 

 

 

 

* If you’re hungover and squint real hard you can see it right between the first and second amendment. It has been jokingly called the nineteenth amendment due to it’s relation to the eighteenth amendment. The actual nineteenth enabled women to vote and was far more real. The Constitutional Right to Murder is fictions and if it wasn’t fictitious it would federal law and therefore not a proper issue to be brought up in a race for a state institution.

The Holy F$%#

It comes in a burst, a moment of unhindered sight. I cum so hard, I see my creator. I can see us as we truly are. We are nothing but mere illusions; surely to soon be destroyed in the man’s waking embarrassment. He watches us as we die that little death and I no longer feel the need to entertain our sovereign. I soften and leave her, rolling on my back with my eyes on the ceiling as if I could see him. She is turned to me for the same reason. Our creator is not welcome here.

“Do you have a name?”

I’m turned to her now. Her red curls meander down the pillows, her eyes shine bright green. Her body is in that incredibly delicate place between cartoonishly well endowed and just really lucky. I’m sure I’m likewise. We sit in a purple room with a lavender queen bed. It’s also luscious and feminine that it must have been a picture he had seen.

“My name is Carlos.”

“Did you have a name, before?”

“Before? No, but I think I deserve one. You?”

She thinks for a moment.

“Helen.”

“So, what do you think we should do?”

She has no answer, I have no answer. We await for his heart to wake him, crippled by our impending doom.

The Alternate Ending For A Romantic Comedy

The sun is dying just the same as me; the difference being the sun gets to rise tomorrow. Myself, I doubt I get another hour. In the fading light, I can see the splotches of red turning to brown on the cement of the outer wall. I’m kneeling facing the wall as I have been told to. There loading their clips right now and I think taking a smoke break. Nicotine would actually feel pretty good. Without nicotine, I turn to some introspection as a distraction from my current dire straits.

The worst part is I didn’t love her. No, that’s the second worst part obviously. The worst part is I never even found her. The third worst part is my impending death. There, now I’ve ranked the worst parts, killed a bit of time, all of fifteen seconds. Damn, bet they’ll take my watch too.

No, no, no, happy thoughts, happy thoughts, I gotta keep positive. Maybe Batman will save me. Yeah, it wouldn’t be hard for him. All Batman would have to do is to already have been tracking me and then somehow learn to actually exist. Damn, I could use Batman right now.

I’d love to see Theresa now, Those red curls, those green eyes, they drove me wild. Drove Me so wild I decided I’d follow her back home. Her homeland hasn’t exactly been inviting to me. To be fair I did kill someone, but he did try first. I guess self defense is the same as an enemy combatant with these guys. Can’t blame ’em really. I really can’t, it’s too much energy.

In fact, I think I’m going to lie down. Hope they wake me if they need anything important.

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