Alarmingly Strange Stories
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Bullet 5: I had a lot of arc, so I managed to tear into his right shoulder with a crunch, fracturing the bone and causing some extensive damage I imagine. I was proud of myself. Bullet 6: I went right into his gut and managed to burrow to the back of his spine, which I pierced nicely. Fluids surrounded me and eventually I was jettisoned out of the stomach and onto the tile, but I had a nice run. And so on… It was disgusting, watching his bloated corpse quiver and jiggle as each bullet slid deep into his flesh. I loved the sound though; it reminded me of the first bite of my first ho-ho. The glory. The portly man collapsed to the tile and I could hear the screams erupting in the grocery market. Cashiers ducked, children hid behind their mothers, and a fat man lay bleeding in the health foods section, aisle F. I walked away, holding my gun loosely with my right hand, letting it tap against my leg as I walked on by. The whole store had become paralyzed, and each of them gawking and staring at me in a dazed wonder as I sallied onwards. As I trotted towards the exit, every snack food applauded: Snickers, Milky Ways, Twix, Ho Hos, Tasty Cakes, Tic Tacs, Rolos, Caramellos, Butterfingers, Charleston Chews, even the sugar-free bubblegum. The fluorescent lights added to my glory, shining the good parts and shading the bad parts about me. I walked out of that store with my head held high and proud, amidst the wild cheering. "Remember the chocolate cream-filled muffins!" I yelled. And with that I trotted lightly to my car. I sat in, and drove away, leaving the fat man in the aisle rotting, my ego booming, and later I learned, tabloids sitting close by. I made an oath, there and then, I would never let another person take advantage of a ho-ho in my presence. The next day I found myself in the same situation, in a different grocery store, with this waif who didn't appreciate her ho-ho. I did the right thing, I murdered her before she could cause more harm. That was when my life turned around for the better. The next day, after I was arrested for double homicide, I was on Oprah. "He appears to have been abused," she said. And people traced my family history. They saw that my father was an alcoholic, that my mother became a lesbian, and immediately I was a martyr. "He grew up in a home of alcoholism and homosexuality," Dr. Laura Scheisslinger said. I talked to Sally, Barbara knew me by my first name, O'Reilly crucified me. Too busy for Maury, but not too busy for Bryant. The Christian Coalition were disgusted with me, I went on some teenager's walls. I preached innocence, I started riots, and rallies, I wrote a book, and all along the ho ho's sang.

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