463 lines
16 KiB
Plaintext
463 lines
16 KiB
Plaintext
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RETRIBUTION
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by Andrew Varga
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Copyright, 1991.
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What do you mean, "Tell you why I'm here"? You've got
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my file right there in front of you, Doofus.
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Man I'm tired of this crap. Why are you here, Turkey!
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Why always the same thing? Why do you start with this
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garbage every single time?
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Okay, I messed up. Messed up bigtime. That what
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you want to hear? I messed up when I mistook you for
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somebody with a shred of compassion!
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Of course I'm getting excited! Start every damned
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time with the same damned questions-what do you expect!
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What?
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No, I don't want to.
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Okay. Fine. We'll do it again. Dammit.
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I'll be calm. Reasonable, yes. Even reserved.
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I said okay, okay? Get off my case!
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Where you want me to start? Want me to explain again
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how you got the wrong one?
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Which beginning?
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Maybe I should go.
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Okay, okay. So, what's your pleasure?
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Okay, but don't interrupt, got it? Just you keep
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still 'til I'm done.
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Unplug the phone.
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So's we don't get interrupted!
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I told you I'm in control, now unplug the phone.
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Fine, have it your way. First ring and I'm outa here.
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Okay, so I come home.
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Yeah, from work! You want to do this or what?
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Then don't interrupt.
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I come home from work, and Julie meets me at the door.
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Right away I can tell that something's outa sinc. She's
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actin' funny. I gotta admit, she's a good kid. When can
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I see her?
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Don't pull that on me! If it was up to me, a whole
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lotta things'd be different.
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Then cut the mind games, man. Okay?
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Okay, so I give her a big kiss like always and when
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I step inside, the whole trailer smells. Kitchen fumes.
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She's gone and put on a genuine feed. Right away I'm
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extra nervous. It's Friday night and she never cooks on
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Friday night. Told her before it's my night out, I know
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she's doin' this just to stall me.
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Cling-ons, man. Women are just a bunch of damned
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cling-ons.
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Now that I think of it, she even looked different.
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Puffy, or fuzzy. Yeah, kinda fuzzy around the edges. Oh,
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she was glad to see me. Hell, she's always glad to see
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me.
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I swear, if I brought home a bag of dog crap and told
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her it was a present she'd be tickled. I can just see it.
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Here she is meeting me at the door and I'm at the top of
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the steps and I hand her this paper sack saying here
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honey, I got this just for you and by now it's gone all
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soggy-bottom and when she takes it the bottom falls out
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and this fresh glob splatters on her feet. She looks down
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for a second and her smile doesn't even flicker and she's
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going oh sweetheart I love it you shouldn't have I know
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just to do with it you're so nice to me here let me take
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your lunch pail. And before I get to the table, she'd
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have a big pot of flowers planted in the stuff. That's
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kinda how she thinks.
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Huh?
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Okay. So we're having dinner and she knows I'm going
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out. Been telling her for weeks. I'm thinking, so what's
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the big stinking deal? It was a flawless plan. I even
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got into a pattern. One night a month, out with the guys.
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No way could she suspect anything 'cause it was a pattern.
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I mean hey, it'd be a whole different animal if we were
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married, right?
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So she just sits down from serving. Big platter
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loaded with turkey. That's another thing, man do I hate
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turkey. It's the best we can do on what I'm making now.
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Like a fancy French restaurant steak to somebody like you,
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understand? I still hate the stuff.
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So I'm choking down this slimy old bird 'cause time's
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just screaming by and I look up and she's starin' at me.
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And her lost-puppy eyes look like the little mutt's been
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gone for months. I know she wants to talk, but I'm
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shoveling away 'cause I've got the plan, you know?
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So I finish and stand up to go and she hits me in the
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guts harder than I've been hit in a long time. Three
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stupid words.
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"Honey I'm pregnant."
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So what could I do? She's expecting me to cheer or
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grab her up and hug her or whatever.
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Remember that oh God not again my guts are being
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ripped outa my mouth feeling I told you about? All I
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could do was go throw up. Told her it must be sympathy
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pains. She took it, loves me that much I guess.
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Okay, I lied about the bowling. Happy now? Gonna let
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me go on?
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Yes I was mad! Tell me this when she knew I had to
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go. I mean I told her enough times. "Every month.
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Friday night. Bowling."
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I remember getting the you're-going-to-see-another-
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woman-aren't-you look when I left. So what should I tell
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her? "Yes, Darling. I'd never do anything to hurt you
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but I'm going to pay a visit to my ex. But don't worry,
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she won't even know I'm there."
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Hey, I was in such a hurry I almost forgot the bowling
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ball. Now that woulda been a major screw up. I remember
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thinking, backing down the drive, maybe I should've had it
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drilled, in case she ever checked.
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While I'm driving I get this major rush. My plan is
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unfolding and I'm watching -no- I'm living it after all
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this time.
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I'm going kinda fast but I don't care. I'm going
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home.
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Okay, her house. I misspoke, big deal. It used to be
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mine, just like everything else.
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And the truck starts sputtering 'cause of this foggy
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misty crap coming down and I start to get like electricity
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shooting into my stomach 'cause I get the idea I'm not
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going to make it. But then I figured it'd somehow make it
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easier, I'll be harder to see and I can walk if I have to,
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so the pain quits.
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I even planned out exactly how to park the truck in
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the trees out back so's nobody'll see it. And I'm so
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quiet I can't even hear myself, pulling the rifle out from
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behind the seat, running army-style across the field,
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crawling under the fence, ducking behind the garage.
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A coupla years ago, back when I had the good job, I
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brought home some barrels. You know, for trash and stuff.
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Boy did I catch hell for that! Anyway, I had to put 'em
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back there. I used them to get to the roof. Knew they'd
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still be there, she never took care of anything.
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I was so stealthy Rambo woulda been proud.
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So I crawl up on the garage roof, which was a major
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achievement 'cause it's wet and slick as ice. I scramble
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up to the peak and look over it where I can see the
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driveway and the back of the house.
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Man, was I pumped. Like when you're about thirteen
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and you've got your favorite magazine in the bathroom with
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you and your dad suddenly starts pounding on the door.
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Excuse me, you probably never did that.
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I didn't see my car -I mean her car- in the drive so I
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knew everything was perfect. I hung on to the peak and
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waited. I remember checking my scope a couple of times
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and wiping the rain off.
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I must've closed my eyes for a minute 'cause the
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pictures started again.
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Can we skip this part?
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Little Joey, yeah. Laughing and running and we're
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kicking this soft little soccer ball around the back yard.
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I really don't want to get into this.
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What?
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So tell me this, Mr. Wiseguy. Why is it that
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catharsis and catheter sound so much alike?
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All right. I'm watching these pictures, stop action.
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Joey stops in mid-kick and his little face turns all sober
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with tears running down his cheeks like the day I left.
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Cattle-prod in the gut stuff.
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And then I'm in the morgue.
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Whoa pal, I'm not going into this again. Told you a
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million times. I told you how she swore she'd get me.
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That accident story is pure bullcrap, U.S.D.A.
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inspected prime.
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Hey, she even used to get me when I was graying.
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Graying, you know. sliding from awake to sleep. When
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you're laying perfectly still, 'cause you're too far gone
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to move yet your mind is still going. You're in the gray
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zone, you can't move but you're just awake enough to know
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it and you can't make it stop.
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She'd lay there right next to me and whisper over and
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over. I had to be cheating on her. I had to be cheating.
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Who was it with. Who was I cheating with. Tell me I had
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to be and why was I lying about it. Telling me how she
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knew I had to be doing it and how, the minute she had
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proof, she was gonna take a knife to a certain private
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part- MY part.
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Yeah? Never heard that part before? You think I'm
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gonna tell you everything that slaps around up here? You
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think I'm crazy? How many more times do I have to tell
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you, she's the one who should be in here, not me!
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Look, I'll make you a deal. I'll stay if you put her
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in here, too. But she's gotta be in another building.
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And nobody, but nobody tells her where I am.
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Not the topic, not the topic. Man you're persistent!
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Okay.
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So I must have fallen asleep 'cause the next thing I
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know I'm sliding down the roof grabbing for my rifle. Got
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right to the edge before I stopped, too.
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I sat there staring at my hands thinking, isn't this
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funny, my fingernails are gone but I don't feel a thing.
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'Bout here is where I hear the car coming so I scramble
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back up to the top.
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Looking back at it, I can't figure how she didn't see
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me. Here's my head sitting like a pumpkin on top of the
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garage and the headlights are starin' me right in the
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face.
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The lights go out and the engine dies and now I've got
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the crosshairs on her door. She always took so damned
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long to get out of the car. Used to drive me nuts.
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But that's okay this time. I USE MY time. Slow and
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quiet, I bring the bolt back then forward and down. And I
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wait.
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The door opens and she's getting out and my thumb
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reaches for the safety. She's just standing there and I
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can't decide, headorheart, headorheart, headorheart.
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Cold and wet as it was, I was sweating all over. I
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finally rest the crosshairs on her chest. Man she had a
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big chest!
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So I'm pushing off the safety, trying not to let it
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click, and the other door opens! She's brought somebody
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home with her! I lay there thinking the poor dummy, he
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doesn't know what she'll do to him and I should do her now
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and save him from her.
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He comes around the car and puts his arm around her
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and they start toward the house and I almost yell run!
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Run before she gets you, too!
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But I hunker down and aim again. I can still get her
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in the back of the head before it's too late.
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Never wear street shoes if you're going up on a roof,
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especially a wet one. Screw you over every time.
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They're too close together anyway. Besides, I'd never
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do a stranger. Poor dope's just going in for a quickie.
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Thing is, he never knows what it's really gonna cost.
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Isn't his fault. I mean I fell for it, didn't I.
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At least he had the decency to pull the curtains.
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I wait, wet clear through and teeth sounding like
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maracas. Like I figured, they came out about an hour
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later. Took the safety off as soon as I saw the back door
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open.
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I knew what to go for this time and I waited as they
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came toward me. Hey I was loving it. Major turn on. I
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mean I was Excited.
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I waited until they separated to get in the car. The
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rifle was slick in my hands but I was too busy fighting
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the shivers to be bothered. I settled the crosshairs on
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the bridge of her nose and waited for the right, the exact
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right split second moment.
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As it came I slowly squeezed the trigger.
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I gotta admit, that was the closest I ever came to a
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total body orgasm.
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Guys can have them, you know. Read it somewhere.
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Lying there and thinking I've got you now you
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baby-killing whore I'll fix -no- I AM fixing your nasty
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old hide and there's no way you can BS your way outa this
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one and threaten all you want now it ain't gonna save you
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you're gut-splatters now you always were and you don't
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even know where it's coming from!
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All that stuff all at once, at that exact moment.
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I remember rolling away and my damned shoes sliding
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and the next thing I'm on the ground and she's screaming
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and the guy's coming around the garage.
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I hurt like hell but I had to get up 'cause the guy
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was coming and I wanted to look dignified when he shook my
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hand and thanked me for saving his little backside.
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'Bout then it hit me that he didn't really know what
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she could do to a man and maybe he wasn't all that
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thankful.
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I thought about using the rifle for a crutch but no,
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it would slow me down and I felt that I could fly if I
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wanted to anyway, so I left it.
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I'm half way across the field when I hear him shout.
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Little dummy ran into the electric fence. Then is when it
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hit me. Here's this guy who should be sending me fan mail
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for trying to save his butt and instead he's busting it
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trying to catch me.
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I musta been a real fright. Sitting there in my
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truck, wet through, caked in mud, having to use my left
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foot on the gas pedal 'cause my right's broken, and
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laughing my fool head off. A fat Rambo on nitrous oxide.
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I swear I don't know how he got there so fast. He
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couldn't have. Don't you think I'd have heard or felt
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something if I'd have really run over him? Don't you
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think it would have left some kind of mark on the truck?
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It's her fault, the vengeful witch!
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I'm going back to my room now, okay?
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I never really meant to hurt anybody. I mean look, I
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didn't even buy any ammo for the rifle.
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