The Gruesome Death of Stupid Boys

***This is my story...do not plagiarize it or you’ll be very, very sorry***

Once there were four young boys in grade eight.They were very bright young boys, but not very logical young boys. In fact, they were the most ilogical smart people you will ever meet. Their name were Dietrich, Reiderich, Aaronius, and George C. Scott (***author’s note: Although this story is based upon fact, the names of the characters have been changed to protect their privacy***). Dietrich and Reiderich were always mean to Aaronius, but Aaronius’ bodyguards John, Jacob, Jingleheimer, and Schmidt always kept the two boys in line by snapping their brittle limbs in pieces and grabbing the boy’s arms and using pressure points to make them writhe in pain. To add insult to injury, Aaronius’ guards would make Dietrich and Reiderich feel inferior by cracking witty jokes about them as they spasmed on the ground. Although Reiderich was larger and quite a bit harder to bring down, the four boys were usually able to make the big ogre topple over after a few head and body shots. Oh yes, at this point in time, Reiderich and Dietrich were not yet good friends with George C. Scott.

When the time came for the boys to choose a high school to attend, Aaronius made a huge mistake. He chose to go to the crappiest school in all the land - Gordon Graydon. His mistake was multiplied two-fold as he found out that Dietrich and Reiderich were attending the same school in the following year also. Aaronius could have attended Cawthra Park, but he didn’t, since he wanted the so-called “business” program at Graydon.

Since Dietrich and Reiderich were not good friends with Aaronius, they immediately shunned him at their new school as they thought he was a nerd. They didn’t become popular even though they ditched their long- time “compadre.” So Dietrich and Reiderich formed a plan to get the reputation as “bad boys” with the ill- conceived notion that people think highly of morons and jerks (such as they aspired to become). The two boys made friends with George C. Scott, a rather large - but quiet and gentle - chap. Then, the boys were prepared to create anarchy.

After getting off the bus after school one day, Reiderich, Dietrich and George C. Scott were walking down a street. For some unknown reason, Dietrich had a large bottle of Captain Morgan’s Rum in his bag. He took the bottle and threw it on to the street. In an instant, a car ran over the bottle and popped a tire. It stopped and a hulking, red-faced man emerged from the brown Saab and began running at the boys. The three boys ran from the angry man. However, Reiderich tripped over a rotting squirrel carcass. The man grabbed him by the neck and started beating him with a large, jagged stone he had retrieved from the sidewalk. The man was in a heared rage and pounded Reiderich’s face with the rock repeatedly. After running for a few seconds, Dietrich noticed that his cohort was not at his side anymore, so, being the idiot that he was, ran back to where Reiderich was being pummeled.

Dietrich grabbed part of the broken bottle and threw it at the man. Unfortunately, he threw like his grandma and the glass smashed in front of the sprawling Reiderich. Glass schrapnal went flying everywhere, but it mainly just hit Reiderich’s already bloodied face. A stray dog suddenly pranced by. The enraged man was still beating the life out of Reiderich, yelling “DIE! DIE! DIE!” When Reiderich’s brain was sufficiently hemeraged, the man walked up to Dietrich, who was scared stiff. But he was really just pretending to be scared, because he was not afraid of this situation at all. He thought that he could use his quick wits to make the man less angered. But Dietrich didn’t have quick wits, and his futile attempt at humour just made the situation even more volitile. The man now ran over to Dietrich and tossed his little body against his automobile. Dietrich’s brittle bones snapped like twigs. He now lay on the side of the road moaning in agony. A passing car swerved to hit him...but just missed. The man started dancing around as he had know exacted his revenge on the two young lads who broke his car. While he was doing his fancy-dancy little jig, massive shadow loomed over him.

It was George C. Scott in all his glory! He had seen what was happening from his vantage point behind a large tree The towering young boy sneered at the man and quickly shoved him onto the road. The man tripped and fell directly into the grill of an on-coming Mack truck. The man's legs were immediatly torn from his torso and he was left writhing in pain and bleeding to death from hi waistline. George C. Scott chuckled and ran over to the "half man." He picked him up by the hair and dragged him to his house near-by. George C. Scott left the man on his front porch while he went in to get the 5 pound bag of salt his father had recently purchased at the Price Club. George tore open the bag and poured its contents on to the man's giant flesh wounds. As the salt seared at his gaping wounds the man screamed like he had never screamed before. A stray horse now trotted by and, thinking that the man's salty wounds were food, it started to nibble away at the "seasoned" flesh. Although the sight of the parapelegic getting eaten alive did make George C. Scott's day, it still did not satisfy his revenge for the deaths of his friends. So George C. Scott grabbed and bottle of Methylene Blue and doused the man's new Armani suit with it. He then left the man and the horse and had a nice cool glass of iced-tea.

Now, Mr. Scott (I had to get that one in) sped back to the site where he had left the two broken lads. But he was too late. Aaronius was there now, with and uzi in one hand and a sawed-off shotgun in the other. He had been busy putting a few "pills" in both of the boys just to make sure that they were dead (as if Dietrich's spine and neck being broken and Reiderich's brain splattered on the sidewalk wasn't enough evidence). It turns out that the little nerdy child had some spite for the boys after all. And now... he would exact his bitter revenge on George C. Scott! He unlocked the safety on the uzi (yes, I was as surprised as you are to learn that such as weapon of mass destruction had a safety!) and opened fire. Amazingly, Aaronius missed all 45 shots he discharged toward the giant lad. He couldn't believe it. So, he dropped the uzi upon Dietrich's crushed body and ran at George C. Scott. Aaronius leaped into the air and started tearing at George C.'s flesh with the Lee press-on nails he had recently bought. George C. Scott's blood dripped to the ground as he tried to loosen the maniacal grip. He soon threw Aaronius to the ground. George C. Scott started to run away, knowing that Aaronius was in some kind of psychotic state and could not be hurt.

George C. Scott ran as fast as his legs could take hiim. It was not fast enough. Aaronius sprang at George, pushing him to the ground. Aaronius still had the sawed-off available for fire. A shot ran out. Aaronius and George C. Scott lokked around as neither of them had fired any weapon. Then they saw the horrible sight. It was the horse that ate the angry man from the car. Somehow it had reloaded the uzi, taken off the safety, and fired upon the fighting boys. The horse then proceeded to release the gun from his grasp and let it topple safely to the road. The horse started to speak (no this is not a Twin Peaks script). Out of nowhere, a middle-aged businessman came sprinting across the street yelling "oh my gosh, it's the fabulous talking horse Mr. Ed! I must have your autograph Mr. Ed!" The talking horse was amused. He swiftly kicked the businessman in the skull with his giant hoof and then pranced all over his groin and surrounding area while he was unconscious on the pavement.

Finally, Mr. Ed spoke again."You lads must stop at once! Fighting doesn't solve anything." The horse stood for a moment and then trotted off into the sunset. George C. Scott noticed the entire cast of The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly join the horse as he faded off on the horizon. Even Lee Van Cleef was there.

DISCLAIMER: If you were completely horrified by the gruesome details of this demented story and have been commited to a mental institution in Kentucky - it is your own fault. The author wishes to express his discontent toward you since you should have more control over your mind than you obviously do.