The urge had been building steadily for quite some time. I lost control of it for the first time a week ago Wednesday…I was on the bus, calmly commuting home when one of those…fucking…Nextel subscribers was two-waying a migraine deep into my skull. The warbling of his torture device beep-beeped just one too many times for my taste, I guess. According to the eyewitness report, I snatched his phone from his hand and beat him in the face with it until it broke.
His face…? The phone…? Yes!
I then left the bloody pulp and got off at my stop. “I guess he’ll have to call you back later!” I called over my shoulder.
Cut to me showering.
I got a surprisingly scarce amount of the fuckhead’s blood on me. But I just needed to feel spotless. Good thing that voice told me to put on that disguise this morning! It’s amazing how much a pair of dark glasses, a baseball cap, decorative earring and a fake tattoo can throw off a description. Hee Hee! I paused to think about my most recent activities.
What did I feel? Anything? I guess I didn’t have to kill him. But, if one less person on the planet has to suffer at the annoying self-absorption brought about by two-way paging, then, let’s just say that I was striking a blow for the common man! When I think about it that way, I kinda did a good thing, right? It kinda feels good, you know? Okay, I’m not delusional. (Or at least not yet, hee hee.) I recognize the extremity of my overreaction. So, although I’m not going to make the empty promise of saying it’ll never happen again, I will try to control the severity of my punishments. Or, at least…try to try.
Cut to me taking my car on a little road trip out of the city.
I guess some fresh air would do me some good, right? It’s actually a lovely little day. Minimal cloudage. Bright sun. My favorite song on the radio. I think I might just be able to relax…
what the fuck?!
Did that asswipe just cut me off? I think he did! He just cut me off and gave me…(ME!!!) the finger! Now, granted…he may not have seen me. And he may have just been adjusting his sunglasses with that finger…but he most likely wasn’t. So just in case, I’m not going to let it go. So, I gun it to catch up to him. There’s no one else on the road but us (so what were you in such a fucking rush for, huh, palsey-walsey?) which gives me plenty of room to get beside him enough to run his over speedy, Volvo driving ass off the road.
As soon as I see his car start to overturn by the ditch, I stop my car, turn off the engine and get out. On second thought, I get back in and turn the car on to the battery mode so I can crank up my song. I think I might need a soundtrack for this. Then I get out and walk over to Speedy’s Volvo, which is now lying on its side like a flipped turtle. The driver is busy trying to unbuckle his seatbelt and escape the vehicle. I calmly flipped open my stiletto and held its blade angled outward to gleam in the early afternoon sun. He must have either seen the light flash off the metal or seen the intention in my expression because numb nuts stopped battling his seatbelt for a moment.
A slow smile crept across my face.
“That’s right.” I beamed at him. “You thought that by cutting me off you were gonna get where you were going faster, didn’t you?” I knelt down on one knee and leaned into his upside-down face.
“Man! Shit! I’m sorry! Don’t do this, man! I’ve got money, just let me go! Oh God!”
“You think money is going to make me feel better?” I asked? “That’s just not gonna…cut it. You don’t have enough cash to pay for today’s little bout of ignorance that has spoiled this nice day! And stop calling me ‘man!’”
He practically began drooling all over himself as he begged and pleaded.
“Aw, c’mon man-I-I-I mean sir! I have a wife and kid at home right now!”
“Well after putting up with an asshole like you for a husband and a father I’m pretty sure they’d be tough enough to survive anything, don’t you?” I reached through the window and grabbed his left hand. Sure enough, there was a simple gold wedding band on the third finger. Well, asshole or not, at least he wasn’t a liar.
“Okay,” I relented. “Tell you what. I’m not gonna kill you today. But only if you do one thing for me.”
“Sure!” He panted. “What? Anything!” I couldn’t swear to it, but I think Mr. Volvo may have pissed himself.
“When you cut me off back there? You gave me the finger.”
“Shit, man, sir, shit! I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to–“ I cut him off by opening his cheek with my blade.
“Sssh!” I whispered, my sound matching that of the parting of his flesh. “Don’t interrupt. Anyway, I want you to do it again.”
Silence. Trembling. Staring at me.
I snapped my fingers in front of his eyes, which I believe were trying to register shock.
“Hello? Impatient man with a knife and an attitude here! Did you hear me?”
“Y-y-yes!” he stammered.
“Then what did I just say?”
“Y-you want me to…g-give you the finger.”
“Bingo! Have at it, please. Before you get on my nerves.” His hand was shaking very badly, but he did manage to extend his “fuck you finger.” With none of his previous bravado, I might add. With just a quick slice of my blade, off came the finger. It actually flew about a foot before it landed, still twitching in the dirt behind the driver’s side rear tire.
Mr. Volvo predictably began screaming.
“You fucking psycho! My hand!”
I turned and walked back to my car, but not before switching our license plates.
Cut to me watching a movie in my apartment.
It’s like 11:30 at night and I’ve got Alex on one side of me and Nikita on the other. They were both doing interesting things in my lap. Toby Maguire was just suiting up to climb that next wall when I came. I wanted to fuck the both of them repeatedly, so, of course I couldn’t do anything “extra,” right?
Of course not, darling. When you ask for something to be done to you it’s consensual therefore nothing evil happened that night. Just very, very naughty!
Cut to me brushing my teeth in the morning after kicking the little sluts out at 6 am.
I do have to work, you know! I hope Clorox will be good enough. There’s not a lot of blood on my sheets, but there is some, you know? Maybe a Clorox/Woolite blend? Then I can use that old toothbrush to…
Crossfade to me at work the next day.
Excuse me, mister? What the FUCK did you just say to me? Hell no, I will NOT quiet down and how DARE you ask me to?
Cut to me killing my boss.
I’m stabbing him in the neck with a letter opener. Repeatedly. It kinda feels good, you know? His blood is now everywhere including on me…It feels kinda good, you know? I’m smiling as I do it.
Dramatic slo-mo pan over to the elevator.
On the way we see people screaming, running (both towards and away from me.) The elevator arrives and cops pour out and stream toward me.
They don’t have much work to do apprehending me. I’ve already been disarmed and restrained by about three of my fellow coworkers. The police beat me anyway for about thirteen seconds. It hurts a LOT, but it kinda feels good, you know?
Cut to me freeing one of my arms.
Close-up of the bullet entering my temple and my brains and blood splattering the wall behind us.