Night Begins
The less educated would tell you my night began with that slut of a girl, the one who did everything I asked of her just so long as I let her share my coke and drink a bit of my Rum. These inbred fucks would not know where a night with me began if I wrote it out in lines for them to snort.
I was thinking about the way that girl worshiped various bits and pieces the universe gave me, of which I'll tell you one thing, that girl was goddamn gifted. It was here however, with my brain short-circuiting on Coke mixed with The Captain, that my host's boyfriend came home. Jealous boyfriends are a funny, sad sight. Sure come at me like you're a badass son, if you got yourself some coke she might make you her secret Medicine Man too. I bet he was really surprised when I stabbed him the first time, perhaps less so the other thirty-eight.
Luckily I bring a change of clothes most places I go. I showered in my Cola Girl's bathroom and kissed her on her forehead before I made my way out of that place forever. I did not want to see her when she finally woke up to the sight of her boyfriend rotting on the floor, covered in his own dried up life juices. That would have been a downer. I had bigger fish to fry. Though I wondered if she will think that she had offed the bastard.
This makes me chuckle a bit. That's pretty funny.
I replenished my stock of cigarettes at a service station. A foreign man with a vacant expression stares through me as he takes my cash. What motherfucker? This not the American Dream you hoped for? Get in line. Join the fucking club.
I get back to the place I'm chilling at for a little while and wonder where my roommate is. She's a sweet girl but every time she hangs out with her fiance thing she comes back a day or two later painted with black and blue smudges of "love" he feeds her with his fists. I've often thought of Staking the sack-less scum Vlad style but the truth is I hate her a little for going back for it every time. So I wait. I wait until he comes here and interrupts my thinking or until she asks me nicely or offers me money. I only do things for two reasons: I find them enjoyable or I get paid. Right now her nightmare she's living is one she chooses. When she grows some balls I'll bury him. Promise. I wouldn't bother, but she is my sister and all....so.
When I step back out into the night air I realize how fucking cold it is. I give God the Finger. Fuck Her.
I go to this lovely dive that houses cheap, ugly food as well as cheap, ugly people which also boasts a jukebox filled with music that was hot a decade ago. I come here to be among my own. Not my equals, never that. But my fellow animals. My fellow monsters. I scoop up roadkill surprise off of my plate with a silver spork and shove it into my mouth. I wash the dead taste out of my mouth with beer the taste of piss. I feel the beast stirring beneath my skin. I want to howl at the moon. I want to stick my dick in something. Anything.
On my way back from the head a brute of a man bumps into me as he follows what I presume to be his girl or sister or both. He calls me a "Faggot" and rattles off about looking where I go and finally telling me the best part of me ran down my mother's leg.
I grin. I might even growl like a good monster.
So it is here you understand, a second away from when the screaming begins and the place erupts in carnage, here where one onlooker will later recall for the evening news how I butchered that Fugly Brute with a Spork and laughed like a fiend the whole time, that MY night really begins.
Just so we're clear.
(c) Shawn J. Douglas 2009
I was thinking about the way that girl worshiped various bits and pieces the universe gave me, of which I'll tell you one thing, that girl was goddamn gifted. It was here however, with my brain short-circuiting on Coke mixed with The Captain, that my host's boyfriend came home. Jealous boyfriends are a funny, sad sight. Sure come at me like you're a badass son, if you got yourself some coke she might make you her secret Medicine Man too. I bet he was really surprised when I stabbed him the first time, perhaps less so the other thirty-eight.
Luckily I bring a change of clothes most places I go. I showered in my Cola Girl's bathroom and kissed her on her forehead before I made my way out of that place forever. I did not want to see her when she finally woke up to the sight of her boyfriend rotting on the floor, covered in his own dried up life juices. That would have been a downer. I had bigger fish to fry. Though I wondered if she will think that she had offed the bastard.
This makes me chuckle a bit. That's pretty funny.
I replenished my stock of cigarettes at a service station. A foreign man with a vacant expression stares through me as he takes my cash. What motherfucker? This not the American Dream you hoped for? Get in line. Join the fucking club.
I get back to the place I'm chilling at for a little while and wonder where my roommate is. She's a sweet girl but every time she hangs out with her fiance thing she comes back a day or two later painted with black and blue smudges of "love" he feeds her with his fists. I've often thought of Staking the sack-less scum Vlad style but the truth is I hate her a little for going back for it every time. So I wait. I wait until he comes here and interrupts my thinking or until she asks me nicely or offers me money. I only do things for two reasons: I find them enjoyable or I get paid. Right now her nightmare she's living is one she chooses. When she grows some balls I'll bury him. Promise. I wouldn't bother, but she is my sister and all....so.
When I step back out into the night air I realize how fucking cold it is. I give God the Finger. Fuck Her.
I go to this lovely dive that houses cheap, ugly food as well as cheap, ugly people which also boasts a jukebox filled with music that was hot a decade ago. I come here to be among my own. Not my equals, never that. But my fellow animals. My fellow monsters. I scoop up roadkill surprise off of my plate with a silver spork and shove it into my mouth. I wash the dead taste out of my mouth with beer the taste of piss. I feel the beast stirring beneath my skin. I want to howl at the moon. I want to stick my dick in something. Anything.
On my way back from the head a brute of a man bumps into me as he follows what I presume to be his girl or sister or both. He calls me a "Faggot" and rattles off about looking where I go and finally telling me the best part of me ran down my mother's leg.
I grin. I might even growl like a good monster.
So it is here you understand, a second away from when the screaming begins and the place erupts in carnage, here where one onlooker will later recall for the evening news how I butchered that Fugly Brute with a Spork and laughed like a fiend the whole time, that MY night really begins.
Just so we're clear.
(c) Shawn J. Douglas 2009