Alarmingly Strange Stories
.

There he stood, leaning against the cool glass freezer encasing the Betty Crocker TV dinners, surrounded by strange vitamins and herbs, steroids and pre-packaged nutri grain bars. He was in the health food aisle, just as I had expected. He was trying to catch his breath, his chest pumping up and down, trying to digest his fat. I looked for the muffins to see if they were okay, but all I saw in his hand was an empty package and little dark crumbs on his lips. On the floor lie one muffin, carelessly dropped, its innards spilled out like the others. He had not noticed me yet; he was too busy staring at the muffin at his foot, probably wondering whether or not he should pick it up and eat it. As I came closer he still had not noticed. When I was about five feet away he suddenly looked up at me, fear and terror deep in his eyes. He knew full well what he had done. "What did I do?" he cried desperately. The man was guilty, and I was going to punish him for his crimes. He looked helpless. His eyes widened, and his fat cheeks began to quiver as tears dripped down his face. I forget to mention why he was crying. In the palm of my hand I was carrying The Vindicator, a .35 caliber high-powered pistol. I raised the gun high above my head as I prepared to strike justice down upon his man. He fell onto his blubbery ass, his hands helping to backpedal him away slowly in complete revere. I held the gun firmly, basking in the glory only justice can provide. The fluorescent lights shone down upon me, and I felt like Zeus about to unleash my thunder. My nerves tightened up, like the viscous insides of a Charlestons Chew; I wrapped my finger around the trigger. I slowly lowered the gun until it was aimed directly at the man. He was really crying now, the pathetic s.o.b. His whole body was shaking and quivering uncontrollably as he fully realized the atrocities he had committed, and the justice that was about to take place. The overweight man collapsed against the cold freezer window as one bullet spiraled into his chest cavity, crushing an artery and tearing through lung tissue. The next bullet, aimed for the gills, slid nicely into the soft flesh of his neck, causing blood to erupt like a volcano. The third bullet was meant for his forehead, but sadly went awry and struck him in the cheek, burrowing itself a deep smoking hole through his fatty flesh, exiting out the back of his head and into the glass freezer windows with a crack. He stood there, in a daze as the bullets tore through his body. Twenty in all. The gun whistled with glee as it threw thunderbolt after thunderbolt into the man's riddled body. Bullet 4: I entered his left calf, splitting apart the meaty tissue and tearing myself a new home.

. Page 3 <<Page Back . Next Page>> Navigation: Home.....Strange Stories.....Entertainment Daily Demented Comics......Short Attention-Span Games.....Links .