(no subject)
There was a man who had a long string of terrible acts in his past. This man had been on a mission for the past twenty years. He'd been searching for a woman who he'd fallen in love with. A woman who had had his baby. A woman who had vanished. This man worked toward the lofty goal of saving the Earth, but he always, always, searched for the woman who had betrayed him.
And when he found her, he decided to write up a plan for revenge.
There was a man who eliminated the woman's husband. He captured their son and bound him, leaving him with a bomb. A bomb he'd forced the woman to build for him. Oh, he felt it was a great bit of poetic justice- she'd stolen his son, he'd taken the boy back...only to put her in a situation where she'd kill her own son.
But the woman was a traitorous bitch and she didn't build the bomb the man thought she had. Oh, she'd built one, but it wasn't in the bag in the hall waiting to kill her son. It was much smaller. It was in the detonator, a bomb just big enough to kill one man.
“What's the range on this thing? About two hundred yards?” he asked.
“Yeah...why?” the woman asked.
“When I woke up that morning twenty years ago and you were gone, I was devastated. I tried to forgive you, but I couldn't. After all, you didn't just betray me, you betrayed everything we believed in. So I decided one day I would find you and I would punish you. And today is that day, my love,” he told her.
“Where's the bomb?” the woman demanded.
“There's thirty seconds from the time I push this detonator to the explosion. That's what you said, right?” he asked calmly.
“Tell me where the bomb is now!” the woman said, raising her voice.
“It's in your house,” the man said with just a hint of a smile. “And if you want to save our son, I suggest you get moving.”
The woman bolted, running toward the house...but then she stopped. She turned. She smiled and said so he could read her lips- It's in the detonator... she said just as his thumb put pressure on the button.
“You bitch,” the man muttered.
There was a man who had searched for twenty years to find a house on Wisteria Lane in an idyllic little suburb that was a symptom of the sprawling blight that infested the Earth. But he touched a button and found himself on a beautiful beach next to a pristine jungle. It had to be heaven. It was the world he'd dreamed of. The world unblemished by the destruction of man. And still he held the detonator. He was careful to keep from actually pushing the button.
Twenty years he had searched and she'd gotten the best of him. Perhaps she did have it in her to kill. But that might have been for the best because now everyone would know what she had done. How she'd killed a man, how she'd stolen away and denied a boy his father, how she'd lied to everyone she ever met. There was a man who kept his finger off the button because he knew that sometimes...things have a way of blowing up.
[First person can tell him where he is, everyone else can find him on any stretch of beach just enjoying the beauty of it all!]
And when he found her, he decided to write up a plan for revenge.
There was a man who eliminated the woman's husband. He captured their son and bound him, leaving him with a bomb. A bomb he'd forced the woman to build for him. Oh, he felt it was a great bit of poetic justice- she'd stolen his son, he'd taken the boy back...only to put her in a situation where she'd kill her own son.
But the woman was a traitorous bitch and she didn't build the bomb the man thought she had. Oh, she'd built one, but it wasn't in the bag in the hall waiting to kill her son. It was much smaller. It was in the detonator, a bomb just big enough to kill one man.
“What's the range on this thing? About two hundred yards?” he asked.
“Yeah...why?” the woman asked.
“When I woke up that morning twenty years ago and you were gone, I was devastated. I tried to forgive you, but I couldn't. After all, you didn't just betray me, you betrayed everything we believed in. So I decided one day I would find you and I would punish you. And today is that day, my love,” he told her.
“Where's the bomb?” the woman demanded.
“There's thirty seconds from the time I push this detonator to the explosion. That's what you said, right?” he asked calmly.
“Tell me where the bomb is now!” the woman said, raising her voice.
“It's in your house,” the man said with just a hint of a smile. “And if you want to save our son, I suggest you get moving.”
The woman bolted, running toward the house...but then she stopped. She turned. She smiled and said so he could read her lips- It's in the detonator... she said just as his thumb put pressure on the button.
“You bitch,” the man muttered.
There was a man who had searched for twenty years to find a house on Wisteria Lane in an idyllic little suburb that was a symptom of the sprawling blight that infested the Earth. But he touched a button and found himself on a beautiful beach next to a pristine jungle. It had to be heaven. It was the world he'd dreamed of. The world unblemished by the destruction of man. And still he held the detonator. He was careful to keep from actually pushing the button.
Twenty years he had searched and she'd gotten the best of him. Perhaps she did have it in her to kill. But that might have been for the best because now everyone would know what she had done. How she'd killed a man, how she'd stolen away and denied a boy his father, how she'd lied to everyone she ever met. There was a man who kept his finger off the button because he knew that sometimes...things have a way of blowing up.
[First person can tell him where he is, everyone else can find him on any stretch of beach just enjoying the beauty of it all!]