Still shambling the streets of the city Nelson Algren defined, I am the Monster in a madhouse refined. Burma Shave.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
Seven Bullets
Finally they are posting this on the buses. Back in early February, one of our coldest, the snow drifts were icebergs, a man walked into the Lane Bryant's in Tinley Park and tied up the manager, customers, and two women who had entered during the hold-up. The women's hands were tied with duct tape and the store manager called 911 on her cell. There is a record of the man's voice on the phone, as there is of the seven shots he fired into the heads of the women. One survived, a young lady visiting from New Orleans. This is why there is a detailed sketch in the first place. He'll get caught, maybe for something else. More than likely, he bragged, and when some guy needs to cut a deal, he'll give his buddy up for a shorter sentence. Myself, I live in a world of dark yet righteous thoughts. I read my Act of Contrition early, sort of like Proactive Contrition. If it was the two of us and I had a magical gun, well, I'd pick six joints at random and disintegrate his bones (granted I'm that good a shot; you've seen my face after shaving). Knees, elbows, collarbone. I'd walk away with the last bullet cocked and the gun in that cowardly bastard's mouth. I'd walk away and think my long thoughts. And I would sleep well.
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5 comments:
I agree. I'd sleep well myself. Not even a whiff of bad dream to disturb my sleep.
I totally agree, but I might blow his dick off w/one of the 1st 6 bullets.
And here I thought that bloody retribution fantasies were unique to the South.
Some years back, here in Charlotte, a little thug shot and killed a mother of three who had the audacity to run from him when he tried to rob her. 12-gauge shotgun. Shot her in the back. The woman was here in town taking classes for a new job--she hailed from Bellingham, Washington and was in the parking lot of the Hilton hotel where her company had put her up. She and a co-worker were returning from supper.
When I'd heard that five little thugs had tried to rob her (they left witnesses), I knew that they would quickly find the trigger man, for no five such asswipes could keep their mouths shut for long.
I was right. Within hours one of the kids (they were all under 18) confessed to his aunt that one of his companions had gunned down the woman (this kid was heartsick and in shock). His aunt called the cops. The cops got him to name names.
The trigger man was well known to the cops. While only 16, the cops knew him for a monster. I was later told by an officer that they "did not want to capture him alive". They WANTED him to resist.
Sure enough, when they showed up to snag his worthless ass, he threw down on the cops with the same gun he'd used to murder the mother of three.
I'm not sure if they ever counted the bullets in the little bastard.
Short version: he paid for the murder.
LOL, Lana. Wow, Hemlockman.
Why would anyone want to shoot up a plus-sized women's clothing store? Sheesh. Poor ladies. :-(
Think I'd go for single-shot mercy killing. You don't torture a mad dog; you just put it down.
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