The Bastard

There he was, the Bastard. The sick little fucker that had been following me around since I moved to this neighborhood, introducing me to the neighbors, trying his hardest to convince me that he was on my side. I’d tolerated him a lot longer than necessary because he claimed to know a man with liquor connections (untrue), and he shared with me a sample of his moonshine. This was enough to get me to open up to the little shit. This was a mistake.1

After getting drunk one night and telling him I was a former school teacher, he decided to share some of his poems with me. Horrible gibberish. Most of it was sentimental crap about his dead mother, or some perverse nonsense about a former lover. What really made me hate the Bastard, though, was his habit of getting stumbling drunk and reciting the hundreds of crude Haikus he’d written. Take this one for example:2

I wanted to bash-
His face in, I was drinking
Bottom shelf vodka.3

Or this little gem:4

Women in the park
Is no surprise, the cunt sluts
Are out to get me.5

Sick shit, for sure.6

And there he was…the Bastard. Seeing him lying there, so helpless and all, I couldn’t help myself; I jammed that fucking shovel into his neck so hard I heard the metal spade ting against the wooden floor beneath. Straight through… like butter. These are ruthless days, I thought, and the scum sucker lied to me. I too must be ruthless.7

8

What he was doing there, sleeping on a crack-house floor, I’ll never know. Guard duty I’d imagine. He must have owed the owner a favor and, as whacked out as they are, crackheads never leave their pads unattended.9

I crept around the place, the rotting floor boards creaking with every step, expecting to run into another coke fiend, but there were none. I relaxed enough to feel comfortable turning on my flashlight and go about my mission: I knew they had guns.10

I made off with, among countless amounts of ammo, my very own clock-radio the Bastard his self stole from me, and a Barrett M468-A1 Tactical Carbine with attached infrared scope. I knew this because the little beauty was lying next to an operating manual. Who knew assault rifles came with instructions? But who cares? I got what I needed, and the Bastard got what he deserved.

A contest entry

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Comments

1 - 6 of 6

  • corrupthoughts silver member
    November 19
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    Hm, This was good but just a little too short.. I was getting really into the style in which you write and the mind set of the narrator; I like how he speaks a lot. The inclusion of the haiku's was a good move in my opinion, it helps the reader understand why he despises this man so much, especially if he hated the poems enough to remember them. Kind of off topic, but when you called it 'horrible gibberish' I was reminded of 'hitchhikers guide to the galaxy' and the Vogon poetry.

    The shovel part is a bit of a blind side, but it makes the story more interesting that way. Your grammar and spelling were great, I found only this teeny typo, which spell check would not have picked up on because it still spells a word;

    para 10 - "the rotting floor boars creaking" I think you mean to say boards... however boars would have been an amusing image.

    I also like the commentary at the end talking about assault riffles with instructions, I got a laugh out of that. I would have liked to seen this longer tho, and to see what he does with said rifle.

    Thanks so much fro entering and good luck!!


  • F66142589
    November 3

    Edit | Reply
    Very cool indeed. I did not suspect that shovel-part. You write in a createful way, and there was a good hook involved. I think the end could have been better, it was sort of boring, to be honest. However, the originality was there, and I laughed. I am not sure about putting you among the finalists yet, but I might just, because it was a great start, and a funny twist - in this.

    beginning: 4, language: 5, ending: 3.


  • Vanilla King
    July 8

    Edit | Reply
    Ehmm.. It was a nice story, but I'm pretty sure you haven't even read through my whole contest description. I'm going to DQ it, since I feel it doesn't really fit in my contest.


  • Asfand
    June 24

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    It was strange, although I liked the characterization. Her defined hatered for messed up literature, and the overall feel of this piece was really good! Great job!! Thanks for entering and good luck!


  • cookie-monster
    June 24
    Edit | Reply
    whoa, this was so cool, haha. It defiantely sounds like a madman


  • Beau Noir
    June 24

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    Interesting... Did she break his neck with a shovel and run away with guns and a rifle? Because he was high on crack and saying stuff? Hmmm... Either way, this was intriguing. I like the protagonist's voice. Nicely executed.

1 - 6 of 6