Sunday, November 16, 2014

Back at the bar (Blogophilia 39.7)



Without a word, the bartender put the drink next to his hand. The 3 sheets was quiet this time of night. It was getting close to last call and all rowdy yuppies had either paired off or passed out on the bar. Not drunk enough to shake off the rage, he was finding it hard to focus. He chugged the scotch without thinking.  A sharp pain followed. With a curse, he pulled the stirrer away from his eye dabbed his face with the bar napkin.  The offending alcoholic droplets remaining were spared from going into his eyes.

Two blond heads were nodding and arguing over the latest sex offender stats on the screen over the bar. They tried to one up themselves on what the best method to deal with this “crisis”. One championed longer prison terms. The other was touting a medical treatment that would cause the prisoner to collapse like a myotonic goat was upon arousal. Kind of a reverse Viagra, with everything deflating as one part inflates.  

A smirk crossed Jeremy’s face as he heard the story. He really didn’t care. Mother had already taken care of that part of him. She couldn’t take him as he was, a man who wanted acceptance and love. He had taken care of her in return.  Eye for an eye, or life for my balls, take your choice. Really smiling at that thought, the rage over the visit to the psychic slowly ebbed. 

He still needed to take care of the Pigs. He thought back to a preacher he saw on television once. He was telling some story about talents, whatever they were. He guessed they had something to do with money, but he really wasn’t sure. But the gist was of three slaves, two accomplished something and the other one didn’t. The Master didn’t take kindly to the one’s ultimate lazy moment and had him cast out. Jeremy wasn’t going to be that guy. 

As brooded, the next story came in over the screen. It was the apartment complex he was at earlier. The sound was too low to really understand what the automaton was saying, but it appeared the murder he stumbled on may have had some company. 

Jeremy smiled at that.


He now had a way to draw the bastards in.  

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Topic-Tyler Myrth

Pic-Dave Raider (Still wondering where he is)

Pic Guesses-Woody, Surf City, Wagon wheels, Museum piece. 
 

8 comments:

  1. Oh my! And the grisly plot thickens.... castration? Revenge? Very twisted, and it seems things may be rapidly coming to resolution. 8 points, Earthling!

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  2. Replies
    1. Having done that a few times, yeah. It's usually the signal for me to call it a night.

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  3. Sounds like this guy has a lot to avenge and won't be too bothered by a conscience. ..
    Enjoyed the read.

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  4. compelling and engaging..enjoyed!

    Jessica

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