143 lines
7.8 KiB
Plaintext
143 lines
7.8 KiB
Plaintext
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= F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. =
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Just Some Wildy Obscure Fiction
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This story takes place in a moderately sized Texas town. One with a college.
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One with a Super Cuts. One with lots of people. This story takes place.
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He was way overdue on a haircut. It had grown out way too long. "What
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if I go in for that job interview", he thought. "This will never work". No
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@Problemo. He'd run down to Super cuts and get a cheap-o 7.95 hair cut. They
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weren't the best but they weren't the worst either, and besides he didn't
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need anything fancy now did he? He just needed a haircut.
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Mike got in his old car and left towards the cheap-o hair cut place.
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Maybe he would stop by the grocery store and pick up some Little @Debbie
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snacks or something. He needed something else but couldn't remember what it
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was. Oh well, a haircut would be plenty he thought. He drove for a couple
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of minutes, a couple of lights, a couple of miles and arrived at Super cuts.
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"Hi"
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"Hi"
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"I need a haircut"
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"Do you have a coupon"
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"Yeah"
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"Ok come on back"
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As he sat in the chair that went up and down at the pump of a hydraulic
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foot pedal he looked in the mirrors at the people around him. 8 chairs were
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there. 6 were occupied with people. Six ladies were cutting their hair. Two
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of the ladies were hispanic, three were white, and one was black. The lady
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asked him twice how he wanted his haircut. He hadn't heard, he was trying
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to see if the other Hispanic lady was as good looking from the front as she
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was from the back.
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"Oh, @uhh, just trim it all over. Just like it is now, but shorter"
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"Sideburns?"
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"Uhh, no"
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"straight across over the ears"
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"Yeah, that would be fine."
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"Ok"
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He was glad she didn't ask more. He hated for them to talk too much
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while cutting his hair. He once again begin to look around the room via the
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mirrors. He could see the backs of the people to the left of him by looking
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off the mirror into the other mirror on the opposite wall. He saw a guy who
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looked like a frat guy in one chair and an ugly girl who looked like she was
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in one of his history classes one time. He couldn't really see the faces of
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the rest. He watched in the mirror as the Black lady dropped her scissors.
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That was when the first bullet tore through his haircutter. He wasn't looking
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when it happened, but he felt and saw the blood and skull tissue fly. He
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didn't really hear the shot, it seemed like it came seconds after the bullet.
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His eyes had returned to the skinny Hispanic lady who was cutting his hair
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as her body was becoming limp and began to fall.
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"Damn good think she didn't poke me with those scissors on the way down."
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The thoughts ran obscurely through his head. The next three shots he pretty
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much witnessed in the mirror. He saw the Black lady take two bullets as
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she had just finished picking the scissors back up.
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"I guess it doesn't matter if they are sanitary now does it?"
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The other two ladies cutting hair on that side came next. One was about to
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scream and the other was turning towards the entrance to the building as the
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bullets flew into their brains. The scream that was emitted from the White
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girl was one he had never heard before. Almost like a keyboard with a pitch
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bender, the bullet entering her head changed the pitch slightly before her
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brain quit telling her lungs she could stop screaming.
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"I'll just be real still and hide behind this plastic apron, and maybe he
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won't see me."
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His thoughts were still paralyzed. He couldn't move from the seat if he
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wanted to. The last lady cutting hair, one of the ones closest to the
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entrance was the only one left. He only heard a scream of, "No", before
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three shots rang out. He could see in the mirrors that the pool of blood
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from the black lady was now running and about to join with the pool of blood
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that was coming from the white lady that lay a couple of feet from her. It
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was carrying with it, bits of wet brown hair that had fallen to the floor
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from the frat looking guy. He hadn't really noticed any of the commotion.
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There was only one person waiting on the brown wooden benches by the door.
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He didn't know what had happened to that person, and didn't know what had
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happened to the people sitting in the other chairs. More shots rang out.
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He guessed that was what happened to them. Once again, his mind spewed forth
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random thoughts. He nearly laughed aloud when he spied the big yellow blow-
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dryer sitting in it's holster. He imagined himself pulling the big yellow
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Con-Air out and wheeling to point it at the assassin. He nearly did laugh
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thinking about this.
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But the sound of silence awoke him from his little thoughts. He could
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hear what sounded like combat boots walking toward him. He could see in the
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mirror it was the gunman. As he sat still in his chair, the facial features
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of the gunmen became clear. Ok looking guy, fairly normal looking, and
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dressed in a T-shirt and Levis.
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"So you were about to get a haircut when I came in huh?"
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"Yeah, I planned to."
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"Hmm, sorry dude. Guess it's not @gonna happen now is it?"
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"nope"
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"Gee, I..I..I apologize, that was pretty un-cool what I did."
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"Ohh, it's ok, really. I have coupons for Master-Cuts too"
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"Cool, uhhh well, uhh. Ok well I'll catch ya later then"
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"Ok. Uh, see ya around. What did...uhh... you come here for?"
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"Well I had wanted a haircut, but then I remembered how poor a job they do"
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"yeah, really."
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"Take a look at how bad they did last time. Looks stupid huh?"
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"ahhh, it's not that bad. I mean... it could be worse."
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"Yeah, I .. I guess your right, it could be. Well I'll let ya run now."
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"Ok... well, uhh catch ya around"
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"yeah, later."
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So Mike went to Master-cuts and there received an above average hair-cut
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for around 6.95 plus a small amount of tax. The gunmen, on the other hand
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didn't get his haircut that day. He waited and went to the same Master-cuts
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as Make did. There he also received an above average haircut. Probably
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not as good as the one Mike received, but still, pretty O.K.
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As the police and ambulance workers hauled off the many bloody bodies,
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with large bullet wounds in their skulls, they too agreed that they would
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go to Master Cuts to get their hair cut from now on.
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Well that's it. I'm no writer, but then again neither is Bryant Gumble.
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She also takes photographs. Never mind.
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Zach D. (me) thanks all the bbs (l)users around Lubbock for being cool, and
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especially all my bro's at Tech. Get your guns up.. yeah right..whatever.
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Laterz.
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5000
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=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
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= Questions, comments, bitches, ideas, etc : z3mar@ttacs.ttu.edu : FUCK =
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= Official F.U.C.K. Distribution sites and information =
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= Board Number Other =
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= ----- ------ ----- =
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= Immortal Hate 806.745.8879 World HQ =
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= Ionic Destruction 215.722.0570 Eastern HQ =
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= Accounts NOT guaranteed on any F.U.C.K. distribution site. If you are =
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= interested in writing for, or in becoming a distribution site for =
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= F.U.C.K. call Immortal Hate, and apply for an account, or mail Dam =
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= at z3mar@ttacs.ttu.edu or on Immortal Hate. Knowledge is power... =
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