Fuck it was a hard day at work. Those corpses are fucking heavy, and today I had to move some fat fucker who croaked of a heart attack. Who dies from natural causes these days? Anyhow, I'm finally home and it's time to chill and watch "The Reel Deal". I go to get some mood medication during the commercial break and discover I'm down to my last 2 oxy's, so I decide to head to the corner store to get some more, and maybe a bottle of vikes while I'm at it since I'm running low, oh, and I'm out of milk. I unlock my 6 deadbolts and grab my Glock, I want to get back before the commercials are finished.
I normally don't go out at this hour, but fuck-it, I ain't gonna spend the evening sober, not after the day I had. A few blocks from the store I hear some shouting from down the street and a few gun shots, so I cross to the other side and keep my head down. Once I get to the store I head straight for the candy isle. Gun mounted cameras on the far wall track me as I move through the store. Fuck Vicoden is getting expensive, I guess demand has dropped off since Neotol has come on the market, but that shit messes with my stomach. Kids nowadays will pop anything new that comes out, even if it's crap. I stock up on vikes so I'm ready for the next price hike, grab my oxy's and a carton of milk, and head for the door where the store computer scans the goods and the chip in my neck and debits my account.
I'm nearly home when I sense trouble. A bummy looking dude is headed my way and I can tell he's after my goodies. I ain't having none of it. As he gets close he pulls out a gun and tells me to drop my bag of shit. I make eye contact to distract his attention and slowly hold up the bag in front of me while discreetly reaching for my Glock tucked under my jacket directly behind the bag. When it's all over, there's no crying over spilled milk. My candy has made it through okay. I grab the bums gun and pocket it along with my pills. It's an old 38 special like the cops used to use. I can get a good price for it, being an antique.
I finally get home, lock my deadbolts, pout some scotch, and relax in front of the TV with a small bowl of "candy". The commercials are just ending. I watch the live feed cameras on TV from just down the road. Turns out those gun-shots I heard on the way to the store was a party gone sideways. Three dead, one fucked up for life. All over a girl of all things. Chivalry? Really? Serves 'em right, stupid bastards. Oh look, the 14th street cam has got me blowing away that bum. Cool, I'm on TV! It'll surely be the topic of conversation at work tomorrow while I am moving the fuckers body. Good thing those party goers were all young skinny fucks, they'll be easy to move. Load 'em up, and drop 'em down. I don't get paid enough for this shit. Oh well, that's life.
- Future Joe
Why? Cuz I said so, that's why!