Afraid.
Humiliated.
Bleeding.
No more!
Tablet after tablet, Cain marked every detail of Abel’s constant harassment, ridicule, cruelty, and torture.
And the abuse.. The awful touching… He felt disgusted, swam in the river until the wretched feeling passed, and then went back to the tablets with renewed fury.
When Cain was finished, he stacked the tablets and sought out his brother.
Many years later, Seth showed the tablets to Father Adam.
Adam wept, thought of his two lost sons, and smashed the tablets.
He then looked at Seth.
Would he stay silent?
Seth swore to, so Adam let him live.
Tag: sick
Last Call
Joe’s retirement “party” is at the corner bar.
Years of experience catching serial killers, gone to budget cuts.
It was either retire or get fired.
Everybody’s here. Even the goddamned beancounters.
“There was one I never caught,” says Joe. “The Lifetime Supply Killer.”
I remember that case. Guy would send his victims a box of poisoned chocolate bars, telling them they won a lifetime supply of chocolate.
“Kinda funny, really,” said Joe.
The Director calls for a toast. We raise our glasses.
Joe stops me. “It’s a lifetime supply of champagne,” he whispers.
“To Joe!” everyone says.
And he drinks.
Pagan
A stranger among us?
We board our canoes and row out to The Island of The Great Statue.
She is The Goddess Of The Golden Door, and she watches over we survivors of The Last War.
Her book, brand, and crown held high above us all.
“Look upon her, stranger!” we say. “Pray she accepts you!”
Once ashore, we drag him to the altar and sing:
“O, Lady Colossus, lift your lamp, and accept this wretched refuse to your Golden Door!”
Then, the Judge thrusts his knife into the stranger’s heart.
We board the canoes again, and row for home.
Unlike Johnny
Unlike Johnny Appleseed, Louie Landmine was a real prick.
He went around the countryside, planting landmines.
Every so often, you’d hear an explosion. Another victim of Louie’s vile project.
Prick.
Whenever Louie got arrested, he managed to make bail.
Or, if the judge didn’t allow for bail, his attorney would win the case.
“Where’s your evidence?” he said. “Were there any witnesses? Anything to match his fingerprints to left?”
The jury would usually end up hung, or find him not guilty.
Until the court managed to find twelve of his victims to pack a jury.
They shot him at dawn.
Paris Rehab
Remember that cokehead heiress actress chick?
You know, the spoiled bitch who went around with a little dog in her purse?
They checked her into rehab again.
Same old shit:
Get wrecked.
Get headlines.
Get clean.
Get out.
Get wrecked again.
We did our best to get her into Betty Ford, but they put her here.
Shit.
But this time, we tried something new.
We ignored the chick and worked on the dog.
Poor beast was traumatized by all the fast cars, parties, and drugs.
Teacup Chihuahuas shake, but not like this.
We’ll get him adopted.
(But the chick’s hopeless.)
Hopeless Romantic
“But soft! What light through yonder window breaks?” said Romeo, walking out of the woods and approaching Juliet’s balcony.
A Martian leaned out the window, took aim, and fired his disruptor rifle at the horny teenager, incinerating him.
Juliet tried to scream, but the stasis field muted her plaintive sounds.
“What about the nurse?” asked another Martian.
The first Martian drew a finger across his throat.
To Romeo, Juliet was the sun.
But to Mars, she would make an excellent breeding-host.
Cargo bays full, the Martian ship extended its wings and silently rose through the puffing clouds into the heavens.
Perfect
Ted had never bowled a perfect game before.
However, after eleven strikes in a row, he was one away from scoring 300 for the first time in his life.
He finished his beer, wiped his hands on his shirt, and picked up the ball.
One more, he whispered to it. You’ve got one more in you.
He set his grip one more time, looked down the lane, and…
That’s when his heart gave out.
Ted collapsed, the ball came loose from his grasp, and it rolled through the pins.
Strike.
The ball had one more in it, but not Ted.
Damned
Single mom with terminal brain cancer.
The experimental medicine keeping her alive is killing her.
Take it, and it keeps the brain tumor in check, but healthy braincells die.
Don’t take it, and the tumor grows and spreads, which will eventually kill her.
She’s scared out of her skull, sent the kids away for the weekend, and called me.
“Find me a third option,” she says.
“Sure,” I say.
Before I left that night, I blew out the pilot lights, and turned off the gas alarm.
Her kids came home early, didn’t want to wake her.
They fell asleep, too.
Push
She keeps pushing me.
“Leave me alone,” I say. “Quit pushing me.”
So, she lets go of my wheelchair and stands there, arms crossed over her chest.
I hate it when she does that, because I have to twist around, and it hurts my damaged neck.
“No, not that,” I tell her. “I mean quit pushing me as in nagging me. Telling me to do things. When to do things.”
She uncrosses her arms, walks back around, and pushes the chair again.
“Thank you,” I say.
That’s when I notice… we’re going pretty fast…
Towards a really long staircase down.
Elevens
Bob rolled the dice… eleven. Win.
Bob rolled the dice again… eleven. Win.
Bob rolled the dice once again… eleven. Win.
The base dealer rapidly exchanged chips, and then the stickman pushed the pile to Bob.
The pit boss put his hand on the stick. “Late bet,” he said.
The stickman raked the chips back in.
“Excuse me?” said Bob. “I didn’t move anything.”
“I said late bet, sir. Place your bets.”
The videotape showed Bob shoving the stick up the pit boss’ ass, shouting LATE BET THIS!
The casino owner chuckled, and added it to his all-time favorites shelf.