It’s Monday morning. On Wednesday, I’m going to ask her out after she gets out of school. Not that we go to the same school, mind you. I don’t even go to school, but she does.
So how did I meet her? Well, we haven’t quite met. I guess you could say that I’ve dreamed of meeting her. That makes her the girl of my dreams, right? Well, she walks by the junkyard next to the old railroad tracks on her way home from school. It’s about four blocks down from the bridge that chops up the city into the shitty side and the shittier side.
She crosses that bridge every day on her way home from school. That’s how I’ll meet her. You might think it’s a funny place, in front of a junkyard, to meet the girl of your dreams. Well, it turns out that like a lot of things, “junkyard” has a pretty stupid name. You’d be surprised what all you can find in there. Especially since it’s by the old train tracks. You can find gold there.
You know what a spike hammer is? It’s one of those thick hammers they used to use to pound in rail spikes, you know, those huge metal nails they stick into old train tracks. Well, I was looking for someone one day and wouldn’t you know it, buried under all the trash was a complete set: a spike hammer and five or six rail spikes. It’s not every day you find something like that, so I decided to hang onto it.
Come to think of it, that was the day I first saw her. Maybe that’s why that old spike hammer’s my good luck charm now. I hang it on my belt loop and I’ve got the spikes in my backpack. Maybe I’ll show it to her when we meet, tell her what an awesome thing I found just before I met her and how it’s gotta be a sign. Girls dig that romantic shit.
I waste the day away thinking about Wednesday. I get a call from Geni, my coworker, but it’s probably about some stupidass paperwork I couldn’t give two shits about so I don’t pick up. I’ll catch hell from her about it later, but it’s okay because she has a huge rack. You know, when you think about it, tits are probably proof that there’s a God. When you’ve got some chick bitching you out, you’ve got something else to focus on so you can tune it out. Checks and balances or some shit.
It’s Tuesday morning. I spend all day thinking about her. Even when I’m looking around the junkyard to find this guy for work, she’s on my mind. In a flash, the morning flew by and the sky was getting that pissy sort of yellow to show it was about time for the sun to go down. When I see her coming down the sidewalk with the pissy sunlight sparkling on her bleachy hair, my heart skips a beat and I know right here and now that I can’t wait until tomorrow.
I do my best to tidy my hair and I hurry out of the junkyard to intercept her. She doesn’t seem to have noticed me yet, but I’ve noticed her. I’ve noticed her every day since I first saw her. Like I said, it was love at first sight. She was wearing a miniskirt at the time, and with the fall wind whipping about her, I could see plain as day that she had the most exquisite ass to ever grace this earth. That’s when I knew I was in love.
She’s getting closer.
She walks up to me.
She’s standing only a foot away from me. I try to make eye contact.
She walks right past me.
But I’m not going to be deterred. I’ve been waiting forever for this moment. I’m not going to let it slip away between my fingers.
“Hey, let’s go out,” I call out to her and she stops. She turns half a circle around to face me, causing her skirt to flutter but it’s too long to show off that amazing ass. She gives me this weird sort of what-the-hell kind of look and says:
“You smell like shit.” She waits about half a second and then turns to leave. But I know she’s just playing stubborn. I grab her shoulder to stop her.
“C’mon, let’s you and me go somewhere and get to know each other.”
“You touch my shoulder one more time and my boyfriend will beat the shit out of you,” she says, pulling away roughly and leaving me frozen in place.
Ah.
Of course she has a boyfriend.
She’s got the most beautiful ass to ever grace this unholy earth, of course she has a boyfriend to treat it right. No, I can’t even fault her for this. It was completely my fault for making such a silly oversight.
“Your boyfriend, he must be pretty strong, huh? I don’t go down so easily, unless you ask me to, hahaha…” I say. She stops again and gives me a disgusted sort of half I-hate-you look.
“He’s the captain of the wrestling team. He could kick your ass so hard you’d need to get it surgically removed.”
Oh, I see. He’s probably the toughest guy in town. “You like him cuz he’s strong, huh?”
“Yeah, not like some dirty piece of shit like you.” She waits for a moment like she’s waiting for another question and then she leaves when it don’t come.
It makes perfect sense. The strongest men get their choice in asses, so the strongest man gets the best ass. And since he’s the toughest guy in town, he’s got laid a pretty strong stake on this girl. Heh, stake. I bet he stakes her.
But that doesn’t change the fact that I just lost out on the chance of a lifetime. The girl of my dreams has already been taken by a stronger guy. Life’s pretty miserable. I think I’ll call it quits for the day and go to bed.
It’s Wednesday afternoon. The junkyard closes at five and she still hasn’t come by. Once the guys that work at the junkyard leave, I bust the lock on the gate with my lucky charm that I kept dangling from my belt loop.
Maybe she won’t come anymore.
After all, it’s getting pretty dark. It’s the shortest day of the year and the sun’s almost completely set by now. I’m about to head out, but—oh shit, could it be? I see her coming down the sidewalk and she’s listening to music on her headphones. She’s wearing pants today. Damn shame.
Even though I call out to her, she doesn’t answer or even stop. So, I follow the white cord dangling from her ears down to her ass pocket, where it connects to her phone. Probably plays music too. Since she’s so concentrated on not noticing me, she definitely won’t notice when I grab the phone.
But she does, probably because the phone is still attached to the cord, which is still attached to her head. She turns and what the fucks and reaches for the phone. I take a step back and then slip into the junkyard gate. She swears like a whore and runs after me.
“I’m calling the goddamned cops!” she says, making it very clear that I shouldn’t give the phone back. She grabs for the phone so I punch her in the throat. She falls over, grabbing at her throat and gasping for air, so I kick her again in the sternum while she’s down and that spells game over for her. She’s out cold.
“What’s his name?” I ask but she doesn’t answer, because she’s out cold. I look through her address book but there’s no guy in there named Boyfriend. Oh, right. I go into her text message inbox and it’s filled with messages from some guy named Roger. That’s him.
“meet @ front of junkyard” I text to him and then throw the phone into one of the billion trash heaps. I sit down on a trash can and wait. I hear the phone buzzing in the shit pile but I don’t give a damn. I start getting impatient and she starts coming so, so I drive my boot into her right kneecap and grab her foot.
It only takes a little tug and the bone snaps like a twig. That wakes her up, but my boot to her head is enough to put her out of her misery for a little longer.
God, what is taking so long?
Oh, there he is!
About an hour later, I see a guy on the other side of the gate looking around, all sort of confused-like. It’s now nighttime and it ain’t that bright out, so maybe he thinks he got stood up or maybe it was a prank.
“Roger?” a hoarse voice calls. It’s her. I forgot about her for a minute. Roger turns in surprise and pushes past the gates, charging like a bull in a school uniform toward us.
“What the fuck?” he demands, noticing me sitting there calm as can be and her lying on the ground with her leg twisted in a funny way. She tells him that I’m crazy and that he should kill me so he pulls out a switch blade.
Well, this sucks. He’s going to kill me no problem, since he’s the toughest guy in town. He comes up with the knife and starts talking shit so I pull out my lucky charm and I swing it right into the side of his head. He doesn’t even get to finish talking about my mom. Wow, he’s out like a light.
Actually, I’m pretty sure he’s dead.
Well, that’s disappointing. I thought he was the toughest guy in town. So it’s probably part of his act to catch me off-guard. So I grab my lucky spike hammer and I hit him seven more times in the chest. I went for eight but the piece of shit hammer falls apart and the head falls off somewhere in the cavity I made in his chest cavity.
So I decide I’ll just keep beating him with the handle. Each strike causes a juicy splashing noise and sprays bright red on my nice clothes.
“Man, he ain’t nearly as tough as you said,” I remark. I just now notice that she’s been crying the whole time and trying to scream but her voice is too hoarse and trying to run but she has a gimped leg. “I thought I was going to need surgery but wow-ee, take a look at him, he’s gunna need a lot of stitches to put his guts back in.”
Haha.
I grab the bloody handle and I hit him again. More juice comes out. Haha, it’s so funny. The toughest guy in town can’t even take a single hit to the head. I guess they don’t make tough guys like they used to, do they? One little smack and down he went.
Wow! And this guy’s the toughest guy in town, huh? I just turned my clothes into a Jackson Pollock with his guts, so what does that say about me? Doesn’t that make me the new tough guy?
Come on, don’t you have any more fight left in you? I ask him with my boot, but the only answer I get is a squishing sound. It’s so funny but I’m seriously disappointed. The fun about winning isn’t the prize, it’s the fact that you kicked everyone else’s ass. It’s that even when they’re trying their damndest to beat you, you still turned them into an insignificant shitstain on the bottom of the bracket.
“He really looks like a piece of shit now, huh?” I laugh but she doesn’t think it’s as funny. I thought the irony was kind of poetic. I guess she doesn’t like poetry.
“So does that mean you love me now?” I wonder and she doesn’t answer (except by screaming) so I decide to seal the contract of our new relationship by kissing her. When I pull back, I notice that she’s now got some adorable red stains around her lips from where the blood on me smeared. I guess that means I just made her suck down her old boyfriend’s blood.
Even though her one leg’s broken, she still tries to crawl away. She’s crying because she loves me so much. She probably wants to go home to brag about me to her parents but our first date just got started. So, I grab my hammer and a spike and I hammer the spike through her good ankle.
Except the hammer doesn’t have a head anymore, so it only kind of pushes the end into her skin an inch or so. It takes a few more tries to get it to go in further and I have to use my boot to ram it in all the way. The first part was the hardest, so now that I’ve gotten into the groove I decide to hone my skills and I nail down her wrists too.
“Hey doll, I just remembered something. I didn’t even catch your name.” But she doesn’t tell me her name. She must still be in shock, so I kiss her again.
Oh, she’s dead.
Well, that sucks. We were just playing around on our first date and she went and died. I guess she wasn’t very strong either. You knew, it kind of seems like people around here aren’t very tough. Since I’m the toughest, that means it all belongs to me, right?
Well, there’s no fun playing with broken toys, so I decide to leave the junkyard. I’m walking across the bridge on the way home when I see her ahead of me. She’s so beautiful I think I’m in love.
Discord
Light Style