Fuckin’ A, Part One of the Thundercock Soulpuncher Saga Chapter 7
So, they’ve put a price on my head, have they? Sent every lowlife in need of a few dollars after me? Fine, I’ll play their little game. If they can kill me, they can have me. Not that they’ll be able to get anywhere near me. They probably don’t even know where to look. I can see it now, a ton of heavily armed thugs busting down my beach house’s door, searching for me, then leaving in disappointment, wishing they could have decapitated me or strangled me with Christmas lights.
Even if they were to come near me, my bodyguard could easily dispose of them. The man was bred specifically for bodyguard duties right in my own lab. I took my own DNA and combined it with that of both Hitler and Bin Laden, creating a man with absolutely zero morals who will do whatever I tell him, no questions asked. I then pumped him with steroids so he would be completely invincible. The man is so powerful bullets seem like mosquito to him. I call him Adolf Bin Laden.
“Adolf, bring me my baby seal fur coat, I’m going for a walk. And get me a pound of veal while you’re at it, I’m starving!” I yell impaitently, wishing he could bring me my food faster. After ten minutes he arrives, my coat and meat in hand.
“Here you go boss, one pound of fresh cooked baby cow and your sweater made entirely out of slaughtered baby seals, just like you asked.” He says in a German accent with just the slightest hint of Arabic in there.
I strike him hard below the belt. “What did I tell you? You have to get these things to me right away when I ask for them!”
“I’m sorry boss,” he says, cowering away from me, “But it takes time to cook. I can’t bring it any faster.”
My face goes red as I yell at the incompetent bastard. “I don’t care how long it takes to cook. If I ask for it, you better have it ready next time. Now don’t let this happen again or I’ll have your head.”
He looks at me, obviously hurt, and says, “Yes boss, sorry boss, won’t happen again boss.” as he walks back off into the shadows.
I slide into my coat made of the finest, whitest baby seals and walk out the door. I see a woman and her child across the street. I hide my gun arm, Shelby, in my coat just before the child shoots me a glance.
“Mama, there’s something wrong with that man’s arm.” says the little kid as she tugs on her mother’s coat.
The mother scolds her child, saying “Quiet down Jenn, your not supposed to point it out around people like him. He might have a disease.”
Soon after they were far out of site. I continue my walk, deciding to raise awareness of what I can do.
I walk around, looking for anything I can do to prove to the nation that I mean buisness. After about 30 minutes of searching I find a group of gangsters walking around town, all bearing blue bandanas. Crips. If I can take them out I can prove to this country that I’m not to be messed with. I walk up behind the group of thugs and tap one on the shoulder. He turns around.
“What the fuck you want fool?” he says with the typical black gangster accent, almost instantly pointing a glock a my chest.
“How about a nice serving of FUCK YOU!” I yell as I shoot his foot through my coat. Witty comebacks were never my strong point, but who needs them when your arm is a fucking AK-47?
He jumps up in pain, hopping on one leg while grabbing onto his foot, eventually falling over. The others stare at him in shock. One yells out “What the fuck is wrong with you man?” I put a bullet through his skull and scream out “You just got skull-raped by lead!” Yet another terrible comeback, but he’s dead, he can’t say anything about it.
The remaining three gangsters pull their guns out. I mow them down in a hail of bullets. The entire conflict lasts less than a second. I kneel down to the one I shot in the leg, looking into his eyes.
“Remember this face. Tell your entire gang I’m coming to take them down in a week. Forget selling drugs on street corners, all you guys should do for this week is prepare. Prepare for the gangster apocalypse.”
He laughs. “You can’t possibly expect to take out the entire gang, can you? There’s millions of us, and only one of you.”
I hold my gun-arm up to his head. “Stop laughing, I could end this for you right now if I wanted to.”
One of the bullet filled bodies behind me lets out a moan. I stand up, walk over to him, and stomp his neck flat. Blood bursts out in every direction, covering my boot and most of the sidewalk. I turn to face the man i shot in the foot and say “Remember, one week, then I come.” before walking back home.