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satanic goatslayer
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One of my favourite card games is Euchre. I enjoy this game so much that I play in a league at the senior’s center with my toothless East Indian friend. We played a semi-final game yesterday, so the crowd was slightly different than it usually is.
A swarming crowd of elderly citizens were present, as usual, but there was an abnormally large number of younger folks there as well. Toothless suggested we go over and mingle with the opponents, but conversing with the soon to be defeated heathens was something I couldn’t stomach, so I told the smelly bastard to go over himself.
We play North American euchre, but other variations exist. I began my pre-game ritual before the game. I took out my war paint and painted my face completely red with some streaks of black, put on my trusty coonskin cap, strapped on my tool belt and started to meditate for a short while.
Toothless came back over a few minutes later to tell me it was game time.
We sat down opposite of our opponents, a pair of middle aged people who appeared to have never left the early 70’s. Our “judge”, as it were, was an old man with thick bifocals and long nose hair. I asked him his name.
He replied “William”, with a heavy English accent.
I pulled out a short blade knife from my tool belt, flashed it at the man across from me and stared for a while. He whispered something to his wife and they stared back.
They dealt and won all three tricks of the game, Toothless and I were left in the dust; we’d never lost before. The man came close to me and said “Don’t try it. I’ll kill you” Then he told Toothless that he was going to murder Toothless’ family, and glared at him intently.
Snap.
Toothless grabbed the woman by her blouse and began head-butting her viciously in the nose. I looked over, smiled at the woman, then took the knife back out of my tool belt and thrust it into her husband’s eye socket. I broke the leg of my chair off, poked him in the throat with it and initiated the beating process.
He tried to get up, but the leg continued to pummel him in the spine, leaving him virtually useless. The old folks noticed quickly and started to scream and cause a ruckus, attempting to get out. I gave the man one final smash across the side of the face, and stole his wallet as a souvenir.
One old lady ran up to me and swung with her purse. Sometimes, I let the octogenarians go free in these situations, but an intentional swing with a purse called for a swift (or slow) death. I grabbed her purse from her, with great ease thanks to her brittle bones, and slapped the straps around her neck and began to twist. Her wrinkled flesh actually began to tighten up due to the pressure, perhaps this was the famed Fountain of Youth people had been searching for, maybe not. After her face turned purple, I tied the straps in a knot and closed her eyes for her.
Toothless was busy stomping on a young man when I asked him if he had his Chris DeBurgh cassette with him. He threw it to me and continued with his work. I ran over to the main office, threw it in and pressed play.
Music is an essential key to getting the most enjoyment from homicide, so I try to incorporate it whenever possible. If there are no players around, I simply sing it in my head.
“I’ve never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight, I’ve never seen you shine so bright.”
I threw my brass shuriken into William’s temple, then shot him with my nail gun in the neck.
“I’ve never seen so many men asking if you wanted to dance, looking for a little romance, given half a chance.”
Toothless smashed a young man’s head into a table, started elbowing him in the temple, and hammered a rail spike through his skull with a nearby stool.
“The lady in red – Is dancing with me – Cheek to Cheek – There’s nobody here – It’s just you and me – It’s where I wanna be”
A large biker blocked our way out.
We sung.
“BUT I HARDLY KNO-O-O-OW, THIS BEAUTY BY MY SIDE”
I gave a spear to my friend, and we jumped at him and shoved our spears into his chest, pulled them out and marvelled at the gurgling ambience.
“I’LL NEVER FORGET – THE WAY YOU LOOK TONIIIIIIIGHT”
And for the life of me, I really can’t forget the way he looked that night. He looked like the lead singer of The Hooters, but larger and with a greasy slop of a haircut.
Never forget the lady in red was the lesson for that day, a pretty sad one at that. It always pains me when I don't learn something new everyday. Thank god for opiates and their derivatives.
A swarming crowd of elderly citizens were present, as usual, but there was an abnormally large number of younger folks there as well. Toothless suggested we go over and mingle with the opponents, but conversing with the soon to be defeated heathens was something I couldn’t stomach, so I told the smelly bastard to go over himself.
We play North American euchre, but other variations exist. I began my pre-game ritual before the game. I took out my war paint and painted my face completely red with some streaks of black, put on my trusty coonskin cap, strapped on my tool belt and started to meditate for a short while.
Toothless came back over a few minutes later to tell me it was game time.
We sat down opposite of our opponents, a pair of middle aged people who appeared to have never left the early 70’s. Our “judge”, as it were, was an old man with thick bifocals and long nose hair. I asked him his name.
He replied “William”, with a heavy English accent.
I pulled out a short blade knife from my tool belt, flashed it at the man across from me and stared for a while. He whispered something to his wife and they stared back.
They dealt and won all three tricks of the game, Toothless and I were left in the dust; we’d never lost before. The man came close to me and said “Don’t try it. I’ll kill you” Then he told Toothless that he was going to murder Toothless’ family, and glared at him intently.
Snap.
Toothless grabbed the woman by her blouse and began head-butting her viciously in the nose. I looked over, smiled at the woman, then took the knife back out of my tool belt and thrust it into her husband’s eye socket. I broke the leg of my chair off, poked him in the throat with it and initiated the beating process.
He tried to get up, but the leg continued to pummel him in the spine, leaving him virtually useless. The old folks noticed quickly and started to scream and cause a ruckus, attempting to get out. I gave the man one final smash across the side of the face, and stole his wallet as a souvenir.
One old lady ran up to me and swung with her purse. Sometimes, I let the octogenarians go free in these situations, but an intentional swing with a purse called for a swift (or slow) death. I grabbed her purse from her, with great ease thanks to her brittle bones, and slapped the straps around her neck and began to twist. Her wrinkled flesh actually began to tighten up due to the pressure, perhaps this was the famed Fountain of Youth people had been searching for, maybe not. After her face turned purple, I tied the straps in a knot and closed her eyes for her.
Toothless was busy stomping on a young man when I asked him if he had his Chris DeBurgh cassette with him. He threw it to me and continued with his work. I ran over to the main office, threw it in and pressed play.
Music is an essential key to getting the most enjoyment from homicide, so I try to incorporate it whenever possible. If there are no players around, I simply sing it in my head.
“I’ve never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight, I’ve never seen you shine so bright.”
I threw my brass shuriken into William’s temple, then shot him with my nail gun in the neck.
“I’ve never seen so many men asking if you wanted to dance, looking for a little romance, given half a chance.”
Toothless smashed a young man’s head into a table, started elbowing him in the temple, and hammered a rail spike through his skull with a nearby stool.
“The lady in red – Is dancing with me – Cheek to Cheek – There’s nobody here – It’s just you and me – It’s where I wanna be”
A large biker blocked our way out.
We sung.
“BUT I HARDLY KNO-O-O-OW, THIS BEAUTY BY MY SIDE”
I gave a spear to my friend, and we jumped at him and shoved our spears into his chest, pulled them out and marvelled at the gurgling ambience.
“I’LL NEVER FORGET – THE WAY YOU LOOK TONIIIIIIIGHT”
And for the life of me, I really can’t forget the way he looked that night. He looked like the lead singer of The Hooters, but larger and with a greasy slop of a haircut.
Never forget the lady in red was the lesson for that day, a pretty sad one at that. It always pains me when I don't learn something new everyday. Thank god for opiates and their derivatives.
