I'm glad I took this profession. Even though I had many other alternatives to choose from. My talent has been already noticed in the Notre Dame university, when I was in my very young days, a new, fresh and naive student. I was the best one in chemistry class. I specialised at chloroform, particularly, the possible uses of this fantastic compound. The professor soon realised I had great perspectives at the Catholic Church, and immediately sent me to the Vatican City. The Pope supplied me with children to help me turn the theory I knew into practise. He tried to convince me I could become a perfect priest. But I didn't like the job so I ran into woods and became what I am today. Honestly, I have no regrets.
I open my eyes and turn my head to my right. Wife is still sleeping since the last dose. She talks way too much, even with her mouth duck taped or stuffed with brocollies. But overall, she is a good girl and I like her. I would even prefer her over a dog or something like that. Tomorrow we will celebrate two months anniversary of our first meeting. The scar by a baseball bat on her head is almost gone by now. And she finally remembered her name yesterday. Yeah. Sarah. I like her.
Okay, it's time to get up. How does a rapist start his day? With a trip to the most important invention in the history of mankind - the fridge. This time it's almost empty. Only one lonely half-filled bottle of my own piss stands inside. After I finish it, I know where I'm going next. It's time to go shopping. To the city!
The downtown is quite far from the forest shack I live in. It would take more than three hours to get there on foot. So obviously, I use some other means of transport. Not a car or a bicycle of course, it would be too mainstream. I use a twelve huskies powered Lamborghini sledge. It's just totally awesome.
Sadly, today only eleven huskies are waiting for me near the vehicle. Tears of sorrow appear in my eyes. Doge... If only you were here... If only I hadn't experimented with you that night... I remember your last words. "Wow. Such anal. Many pain. Much experiment. Wait. Wat. Don't want. Pls no. PLS!" But I just had to do it. Why? For the glory of Satan of course. I know, it's sad. But sometimes you gotta swallow... a loss.
I don't know why people always stare at me when I'm going to the city. What, haven't they seen an eleven huskies powered Lamborghini sledge driven by a naked eighty years old man during a hot summer afternoon before? Weirdos. Well, there is only one normal place I can blend in easily enough. And that's where I'm exactly heading to. Walmart.
Cucumbers, mayonnaise and condoms. Tampons, stapler and a doll. Another pack of condoms, a needle and a pregnancy test. A gold fish, a 2 litter fish bowl and a 2 litter bottle of vodka. A gun, a mask and some lollipops. Duck tape, a book "Parenting For Dummies" and ice cream. A giant pack of chicken blood flavoured Lay's potato chips. Cashier lady looks a bit confused.
"Well, I think it's gonna be all. Here's my credit card." I say, interrupting the awkward silence.
"Are you sure your name is Sarah Lewinsky?" she asks, after looking at my quite new source of money.
"I'm pretty sure it is. And by the way, add that axe to the pile. I don't like curious people." I answer.
"Yes, si-sir. No pro-problem, si-sir Sarah" she says, stuttering.
After the Walmart mission is completed, I am going to visit my friend, Tyrone. Maximum speed, wrong lane, not using any signals, hitting people on pedestrian crossings, passing through red traffic lights - I ain't got any worries about that. The local police officer knows what's up. But there were times when he didn't. He had to learn a lesson.
Dick Faggotson. Poor boy. He thought he could fight crime here, in my city. Maybe he can stop those shoplifters, burglars and other pathetic criminals. But not me. Nobody can stop a rapist. He found out this the hard way. I remember the day he arrested me like it was yesterday. Sun shining. People smiling. Me peeing in central park. He coming right next to me and handcuffing me. He thought he did a good job. He regretted this just after I ended my sentence.
You know, people used to call me one-incher. I admit this harsh truth. But the calibre of a gun isn't the only attribute of a weapon. As they would say in U.S. army, 100 freedoms per minute, 2 meters of range at the fireworks, with amazing accuracy, and this whole democracy can last for two hours, no less. Hips don't lie, and when the tomorrow day officer Dick Faggotson woke up with his head aching because of that pink chloroform napkin right next to him and anus so extremely sore he couldn't sit down for entire month, he promised himself he would never cross my way again.
So here I am, right next to the entry of Tyrone's flat. But something is strange and wrong. The door is unlocked and slightly opened. No lights come outs from inside. No sounds, not even a slightest whiff of summer breeze, a dead silence deafen my ears. I feel something bad. My common sense is tingling. Yup, my penis is tingling. It never does that without a reason. What happened in Tyrone's flat? I have to find out.
I grisp the door knob with my hands sweating as never before, wet as the panties of Justin Bieber's fangirl at her concert, and open up the door to it's fullest as carefully and cautiously as I can. I loud screech of door handles at the end scares me so much I almost shit my pants. Slowly, I step in and look around. It's dark like in a whale's asshole, believe me, I've been in many places. I can't see a thing. I step another step forth.
It was the biggest mistake of my entire life. That another step forth. A step to doom. A step that changed everything. I didn't know what would happen afterwards. But it happened...
(...to be continued.)
The downtown is quite far from the forest shack I live in. It would take more than three hours to get there on foot. So obviously, I use some other means of transport. Not a car or a bicycle of course, it would be too mainstream. I use a twelve huskies powered Lamborghini sledge. It's just totally awesome.
Sadly, today only eleven huskies are waiting for me near the vehicle. Tears of sorrow appear in my eyes. Doge... If only you were here... If only I hadn't experimented with you that night... I remember your last words. "Wow. Such anal. Many pain. Much experiment. Wait. Wat. Don't want. Pls no. PLS!" But I just had to do it. Why? For the glory of Satan of course. I know, it's sad. But sometimes you gotta swallow... a loss.
I don't know why people always stare at me when I'm going to the city. What, haven't they seen an eleven huskies powered Lamborghini sledge driven by a naked eighty years old man during a hot summer afternoon before? Weirdos. Well, there is only one normal place I can blend in easily enough. And that's where I'm exactly heading to. Walmart.
Cucumbers, mayonnaise and condoms. Tampons, stapler and a doll. Another pack of condoms, a needle and a pregnancy test. A gold fish, a 2 litter fish bowl and a 2 litter bottle of vodka. A gun, a mask and some lollipops. Duck tape, a book "Parenting For Dummies" and ice cream. A giant pack of chicken blood flavoured Lay's potato chips. Cashier lady looks a bit confused.
"Well, I think it's gonna be all. Here's my credit card." I say, interrupting the awkward silence.
"Are you sure your name is Sarah Lewinsky?" she asks, after looking at my quite new source of money.
"I'm pretty sure it is. And by the way, add that axe to the pile. I don't like curious people." I answer.
"Yes, si-sir. No pro-problem, si-sir Sarah" she says, stuttering.
After the Walmart mission is completed, I am going to visit my friend, Tyrone. Maximum speed, wrong lane, not using any signals, hitting people on pedestrian crossings, passing through red traffic lights - I ain't got any worries about that. The local police officer knows what's up. But there were times when he didn't. He had to learn a lesson.
Dick Faggotson. Poor boy. He thought he could fight crime here, in my city. Maybe he can stop those shoplifters, burglars and other pathetic criminals. But not me. Nobody can stop a rapist. He found out this the hard way. I remember the day he arrested me like it was yesterday. Sun shining. People smiling. Me peeing in central park. He coming right next to me and handcuffing me. He thought he did a good job. He regretted this just after I ended my sentence.
You know, people used to call me one-incher. I admit this harsh truth. But the calibre of a gun isn't the only attribute of a weapon. As they would say in U.S. army, 100 freedoms per minute, 2 meters of range at the fireworks, with amazing accuracy, and this whole democracy can last for two hours, no less. Hips don't lie, and when the tomorrow day officer Dick Faggotson woke up with his head aching because of that pink chloroform napkin right next to him and anus so extremely sore he couldn't sit down for entire month, he promised himself he would never cross my way again.
So here I am, right next to the entry of Tyrone's flat. But something is strange and wrong. The door is unlocked and slightly opened. No lights come outs from inside. No sounds, not even a slightest whiff of summer breeze, a dead silence deafen my ears. I feel something bad. My common sense is tingling. Yup, my penis is tingling. It never does that without a reason. What happened in Tyrone's flat? I have to find out.
I grisp the door knob with my hands sweating as never before, wet as the panties of Justin Bieber's fangirl at her concert, and open up the door to it's fullest as carefully and cautiously as I can. I loud screech of door handles at the end scares me so much I almost shit my pants. Slowly, I step in and look around. It's dark like in a whale's asshole, believe me, I've been in many places. I can't see a thing. I step another step forth.
It was the biggest mistake of my entire life. That another step forth. A step to doom. A step that changed everything. I didn't know what would happen afterwards. But it happened...
(...to be continued.)
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