Too Good To Not Share
I picked this up off of one of my Texas' friends pages ( Built To Ill for those who'd like to see more of his work) and couldn't pass up the chance to frame it immortally on my page. Friends will help you move, but good friends help you move bodies.
the last bar, a mitchell tines story:
Mitchell walked into the bar half lit. it was only five so only the real alcoholics were there and they were all spending their time with the only woman that was brave enough to come to a bar like this at this time of day. Mitchell limped himself over to the bar "what'll it be old man?" asked the bartender. "heh, that's the first time that someone has ever called me an old man." remarked Mitchell "ill have three shots and a brew." "starting kinda early huh, you trying to forget something or someone?" Mitchell paused for a second as he looked over the young bartender. "nether, I'm working. whats your name." Sean O'Brien" the read headed man stuck out his thin arm to shake Mitchell's hand revealing the Celtic tattoos on his wrist. Mitchell looked at him with his head tilted "you from around here Sean?" Sean slowly pulled his hand back realizing that Mitchell would not shake it. "no sir I'm from West Hampstead, London" Mitchell slightly chuckled as he finished his second shot and lit up a cigarette "is there something funny about that to you?" asked Sean "not funny, no just coincidental. you see your not the only person i know that comes from that particular part of the globe. have you ever heard of Dusty Springfield? she came from the same parts as you." Sean stared directly into Mitchell's eyes as if he were searching for some sort of understanding as to why this man was bringing up such a strange sort of questions "i might have heard of her i never really paid much attention to that sort of thing" "well you should," Mitchell said as he started on his beer leaving his third shot on a bar "she shares more than a home town with you, her christian name was also O'Brien." Mitchell finished his beer. "well i bored you enough with my questions, i better be on my way." as Mitchell got up to leave he finished his last shot "now don't be askin' me for any money cause I'm not going to be paying. i walked into here with the full intentions of killing everyone in here, the only thing that saved their pathetic lives was the conversation that we both had. you ever notice how when your driving down the highway no one ever looks through your window to see who it is that is driving your car, but if a limo were to pass by no one would be able to take their fucking eyes off of the black windows hoping to find out who might be sitting in there, well that's the kind of shit that i hate. those guys at the end of the bar could care less about anyone else that would be around them if they didn't have tits, they could be sipping drinks with the devil himself and they wouldn't give two shits unless he might suck their cocks. but your different Sean and i like that, you saved their sad lives." Mitchell walked towards the door and turned around to look at Sean one last time. Mitchell's eyes burned red "next time your driving Sean, look into the window of the man driving next to you... and for fucks sake buy a goddamned Dusty Springfield album." as Mitchell walked through the door the men at the end of the bar kept talking to the only woman that was brave enough to come to a bar like this at this time of day
if you would like to read more about Mitchell Tines then please visit:
http://www.myspace.com/mephistor
if you would like to read more about demons devouring the souls that of those that piss them off then please visit:
http://www.myspace.com/mephistor
or visit your local library
the last bar, a mitchell tines story:
Mitchell walked into the bar half lit. it was only five so only the real alcoholics were there and they were all spending their time with the only woman that was brave enough to come to a bar like this at this time of day. Mitchell limped himself over to the bar "what'll it be old man?" asked the bartender. "heh, that's the first time that someone has ever called me an old man." remarked Mitchell "ill have three shots and a brew." "starting kinda early huh, you trying to forget something or someone?" Mitchell paused for a second as he looked over the young bartender. "nether, I'm working. whats your name." Sean O'Brien" the read headed man stuck out his thin arm to shake Mitchell's hand revealing the Celtic tattoos on his wrist. Mitchell looked at him with his head tilted "you from around here Sean?" Sean slowly pulled his hand back realizing that Mitchell would not shake it. "no sir I'm from West Hampstead, London" Mitchell slightly chuckled as he finished his second shot and lit up a cigarette "is there something funny about that to you?" asked Sean "not funny, no just coincidental. you see your not the only person i know that comes from that particular part of the globe. have you ever heard of Dusty Springfield? she came from the same parts as you." Sean stared directly into Mitchell's eyes as if he were searching for some sort of understanding as to why this man was bringing up such a strange sort of questions "i might have heard of her i never really paid much attention to that sort of thing" "well you should," Mitchell said as he started on his beer leaving his third shot on a bar "she shares more than a home town with you, her christian name was also O'Brien." Mitchell finished his beer. "well i bored you enough with my questions, i better be on my way." as Mitchell got up to leave he finished his last shot "now don't be askin' me for any money cause I'm not going to be paying. i walked into here with the full intentions of killing everyone in here, the only thing that saved their pathetic lives was the conversation that we both had. you ever notice how when your driving down the highway no one ever looks through your window to see who it is that is driving your car, but if a limo were to pass by no one would be able to take their fucking eyes off of the black windows hoping to find out who might be sitting in there, well that's the kind of shit that i hate. those guys at the end of the bar could care less about anyone else that would be around them if they didn't have tits, they could be sipping drinks with the devil himself and they wouldn't give two shits unless he might suck their cocks. but your different Sean and i like that, you saved their sad lives." Mitchell walked towards the door and turned around to look at Sean one last time. Mitchell's eyes burned red "next time your driving Sean, look into the window of the man driving next to you... and for fucks sake buy a goddamned Dusty Springfield album." as Mitchell walked through the door the men at the end of the bar kept talking to the only woman that was brave enough to come to a bar like this at this time of day
if you would like to read more about Mitchell Tines then please visit:
http://www.myspace.com/mephistor
if you would like to read more about demons devouring the souls that of those that piss them off then please visit:
http://www.myspace.com/mephistor
or visit your local library