63 lines
3.4 KiB
Plaintext
63 lines
3.4 KiB
Plaintext
|
|
$$$$$$$$$$$
|
|
$$$$$$$$$$$ hogz of entropy #138
|
|
$$$$$P $$$$ $$$$ moo, oink, up your butt.
|
|
$$$$P $$$$ x$$$$
|
|
$$$P $$$$ xP$$$$ d$$$$$$$$$$$.
|
|
$$$. $$$$xP $$$$ $$$$$$' >$$$$
|
|
$$$$$$$$$. $$$$P $$$$ 4$$$$$. .$$$$'
|
|
$$$$'`4$$$b. $$$$ $$$$ 4$$$$$$$$$P'
|
|
$$$$b 4$$$$b. $$$$$$$$$$$ 4$$$< %%
|
|
$$$$$b 4$$$$$x $$$$$$$$$$$ 4$$$$$$$$$ %%
|
|
|
|
>> "Killing Time on a Sunday Afternoon" <<
|
|
by -> Legion
|
|
|
|
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
|
|
Have you ever noticed the way stupid people drive? You know who I'm
|
|
talking about. The ones who cut you off on the highway. The ones who take
|
|
up both lanes because they can't seem to make up their mind which one they
|
|
want to drive in. Those guys.
|
|
|
|
The ones who piss me off most are the ones who never signal a turn.
|
|
Just how hard is it to reach out your finger and flick that little turn
|
|
signal lever, anyway? My theory is that these people are simply too lazy to
|
|
use their blinkers once in a while. These lazy fucks can't possibly be
|
|
productive members of society.
|
|
|
|
So anyhow, I went to a busy corner last night (Saturday) to do some
|
|
observing. I noticed that the worst "blinker offenders" are snobby yuppie
|
|
types with nice cars. I wanted to mess up one of these nice cars to show the
|
|
offenders the error of their ways.
|
|
|
|
So today I grabbed my short-handled maul (like a sledgehammer with a
|
|
short handle (hence the name, stupid)) and headed for the corner once more.
|
|
Hiding the maul between my back and the lightpost, I waited for an opportune
|
|
moment. At last, I saw my target: a trendily-dressed yuppie in a green
|
|
Chevy Blazer that sparkled from a recent wash. He pulled up to the corner
|
|
(failing to utilize his turn signal actuator) and stuck his head out the
|
|
window to look for a clear spot in traffic. I sauntered to his truck,
|
|
raised the maul, and brought it *whoomp!*ing down in a perfect arc.
|
|
|
|
Well, almost perfect. I was aiming for the nice shiny chrome side-
|
|
view mirror, but I ended up slamming the 10-pound maul into the offender's
|
|
temple. His eyes sort of bulged out and he groaned as he slumped a bit in
|
|
his seat. Well, I didn't need any lawsuits cluttering up my busy schedule,
|
|
so I figured I'd put the poor bastard out of his misery. I raised the maul
|
|
for another go, but his foot apparently slipped off the brake pedal, because
|
|
his truck started easing out into the oncoming traffic.
|
|
|
|
I started jogging alongside the Blazer, giving him a whack every few
|
|
seconds when I could lift the heavy maul. "Die, die, shithead, die!" I
|
|
screeched while turning his head into spaghetti sauce. But I couldn't hear
|
|
myself very well over the sounds of the oncoming traffic swerving around us
|
|
with blaring horns, shouting "hey you moron, get the fuck outta the road!"
|
|
Their taunts didn't disturb me as much as the fact that they didn't signal
|
|
before they swerved into the next lane. But that's all right.
|
|
|
|
I'll take care of them tomorrow.
|
|
|
|
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
* (c) HoE publications. HoE #138 -- written by Legion -- 12/4/97 *
|