Posted by NL on August 26, 20012 at 19:22:18:
I have not done a multipart story in years. So here is part one of something that will be continuing for an undetermined number of parts.
My Smiling Face 1
It's
back again, resembling the moon or a loon or something equally dim. But
it dances and jerks about, this way and that as the jaws move,
those
mechanical devices I rarely use. I use them now. Something smells dead
and that makes me hungry! Where is it? I'll find it, given time.
Well,
back in 1962 I had a friend who could not pass a big-tit gal without
elbowing me and asking me how I'd like to stick a knife in her big
titties. How'd I like that, huh? I thought even then that I'd like that
just fine. And not just in her titties but in other places as well,
until her blood ran rich and red. Until she died. Later that same friend
got caught in the draft. I think he might have had some fun with Saigon
bar girls for a while until his luck ran out.
My luck turned good all of a sudden one night while I watched a meteor shower. I was away at college and drunk as a skunk, staggering all alone in a public park, on a footpath but far from any lights, any streetlights or security lights. Something wonderful happened. A particularly bright fireball blazed above me, and I saw it. I made no wish, being old and sophisticated, but there was no need to wish.
The next day, at poolside in my apartment complex a bikini- clad coed sunned herself, stretched out on her belly on a towel. She'd unfastened the straps that held her top. I had an apartment upstairs, above the pool and I had a clear view. My dick got hard and I imagined something happening to her-- I had a hangover and my imagination was vivid and I was very horny. And as I enjoyed the view it was as though the top of her skull burst open. There was blood, and brain splatter. Her butt twitched and she was still. I didn't do it! At least, not by any normal means.
That was years ago. I've evolved beyond that now. Of course, there's been quite a trail of blood and dead bodies. I've had lots of fun. I've thanked my lucky stars. But last week I outgrew all that nonsense and discovered quite a new thing. My current enthusiasm is FOOD SERVICE! Oh, God! If only I had taken courses in hotel and motel and restaurant management! If only I'd saved and worked hard, so that I had some money to invest in a little family diner! GOOD EATS! COLD BEER! Maybe one of my waitresses could get murdered once in a while, stabbed in her belly, raped, murdered, strangled, shot. But I'd so much like selling down home food to down home people. Ahhhhh! Have you noticed how fritters look like cow flops. No? Well, I observe and notice such things. Cow Flop Fritters would be on my menu. People would smile. They would beat down my doors to eat shitty chili and leave tips for sweet young waitresses who would later be taken out into the alley out back, to be forced to strip at gun point and suck dick and then get shot to death. Wheeee! I'd like to own a place like that! I'd get one of those waitresses for myself and stab her in her belly button and pull the knife down to her pubic thatch, so the intestines come out. What a surprise.
Strike that. I think I'd like to sell used cars. I'd sell a used car to a pretty gal and later she'd turn up dead, raped and strangled to death with her bra. Then I could repo the car and sell it again. What a business. They call it the AMERICAN DREAM. Or, fuck, why not open a gun shop and cut to the chase? I could have a shooting gallery in the back and parade scantily clad ladies with targets painted on their bellies and tits and my customers could blaze away and then later on maybe those some ladies, dead now, could turn up in a necro whorehouse and that necro whorehouse could be the real money maker.
It is good to dream. It is good to dream of what could be, and then turn those dreams into what is. If I'm not mistaken, Hitler did that. So did the lady who opened that real estate office down the street. Her dream ended when she took a guy out in the boonies to show him a farmhouse and he stripped her naked and raped her and shot her six times with a little .22. She died hard, they say, taking three in the lower abdomen, one in her belly button, and one in each of her perky tits. Her dream ended where another's dream began. All that is as it should be in this mortal realm.
In the higher realm our victims rise again, and we can have another go. In even higher realms it is said that we take turns, being killer and killed. There might be something to be said for that, but I happen to like this lower realm. I like the women I kill to stay dead and then to decay. Skeletal remains-- ahhhhh! Certain words and phrases do things to me and for me: skeletal remains, rape slaying, sex killing, thrill killing, lust murder, bullet-ridden body-- ahhhhh! Say ah.
But, having outgrown all that, my thoughts turn to neat little businesses, like patching up bunged up nicked and dinged bathroom tiles and stuff like that where you enter a house and a woman is there and you can strip her naked and feel her life going out of her as your knife penetrates her chest. Or you strangle her and fuck her corpse. These kinds of business are very attractive. Lots of people go in for them. I heard about a lustful man of short stature who had the hots for the woman next door. He went trick-or-treating dressed as a goblin and when the lady opened her door he shot her in her belly with a .25 automatic and after taking just a little time to observe the effect, he ran away, taking a circuitous route back to his own home. He jerked off with vigor, thinking of what he had done. The lady lived, unfortunately. And she wasn't naked when he shot her, but it was at least a start. Problem with this person (this is a true story) is that he had no viable business model. And when you outgrow this shit you start to think in terms of offering a service or some kind of tangible good, like GOOD EATS or COLD BEER, or a shitty car that bursts into flame, or some stupid piece of crap that, nevertheless, somebody might want to buy.
Wait a minute! Now that I think about it, making snuff films might not be such a bad idea!