Payback

There’s nothing more sickening than someone who preys on the vulnerable and cross bites their own people. I’m enraged by hypocrisy and greed, ever eager to stab a man in the pupil with a #2 pencil when they have it coming . I love tearing out tongues of sniveling traitors and petulant beta boys. I embody bloodlust and violence every chance I get. I’m Righteous Vigilante Justice. I’m a mean-ass Mama Rattlesnake, patiently waiting to strike down chickenhearted losers messing with my nest. I’ll strike so fast, no one sees it coming. I’ll knick your nose with one fang, and effortlessly rip your top lip with the other fang. I‘ll bless you with a beautiful new cleft pallet for free, gaping wounds and scent of warm blood in the air are perks of the job. I love watched double-crossing chauvinists drowning in blood and spit. I‘ll watch your disgraceful, meaningless life whittle away and burn out as you claw at my poison racing through your veins. I love putting childen to bed and watching them weep.

A sad, miserable man lived a very pathetic life next door to me until he died recently. He had it coming, but he didn’t see it coming. It’s one of my fondest memories. This dishonorable man smelled like a scumbag troll living in a toilet filled with wet cardboard, spoiled milk, and Jager bomb shits. He had Spineless Prick Disorder which causes whiskey dick even without adding whiskey. That little tiny guy never worked. You could see the malcontent on his soulless face. He was a disgusting, distorted Kenny G lookalike…if Kenny G was a bastard, meth addict born from the loins of a hunchback voodoo witch orc. He kept a violin bow in his piss-hole since his dick didn’t work anyways.

My neighbor never looked me in the eye. He stared forcefully at his penny loafers and argyle socks, shamefully hiding his wretched thoughts from the kind grannies and tight assed teenagers living across the street. He loathed himself as I pictured murdering him every night, waiting to learn the vile slime lurking inside his mind so I could collect his soul.

He didn’t see it coming at all. It was so good. My tortured heart still beats strong from joy if burning down that man’s despicable life.

I found out his secret. I put it all together. I plotted my revenge.

I waited patiently for my shit-bag neighbor to drunkenly drive his stupid looking Mini Cooper back from another night harassing the strippers at Two Lip Tulips. He stumbled and swerved like a newborn giraffe, and looked like a plump English bulldog with breathing problems.

I waited patiently for my moment.

I am Death. I am Vengence. I am Karma armed with atom bombs. The innocence and trust of unsuspecting Prime members in my community has been stripped from us and I will have my payback.

When I saw the video evidence of my neighbors monstrosities I wasn’t entirely displeased by the package he chose snatch off my stoop that day. It was my new cast iron skillet. I couldn't have chosen a more perfect weapon. So many possibilities for an agonizing, skull crushing, bone smashing, good old fun American murder mystery. I cooked a perfectly rare tomahawk ribeye for dinner the following night. Such sweet memories.

The place next door to me is still on the market if you’re lookin. I heard it’s a killer deal.