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satanic goatslayer
New member
Yesterday, I was in the mood for a bottle or two of scotch, so I went to the nearest liquor outlet and strolled over to the scotch section. The store is a mom and pop type operation, so only one employee ever worked at a time. I chose the finest bottle they had, sat on the display of beer cases and proceeded to drink the sweet nectar. Not even 15 minutes had passed before an irate woman in her mid 40’s informed me that I was going to have to leave the store immediately or else she was going to call the local police department.
I asked her why I had to leave and she told me that I wasn’t allowed to drink the product within the store. I told her that I can walk into a corner store and drink a pop inside, so why couldn’t I do the same here?
Things began to get ugly from here, mostly due to the fact that when I indulge in alcoholic beverages I tend to get belligerent and opinionated. She repeated that I had to leave, and I refused. She walked over and picked up the telephone in an attempt to scare me out of the store.
I picked out a bottle of Sambuca and hid it behind my back. Walking up to the counter where she was, I popped the top off of the bottle and poured the contents on the top of her head. I took a step back and laughed as her eyes turned red and her head began to shake. Screaming about how she was going to kill me, she picked up a knife from behind the counter and charged at me.
I dodged her attack and tripped her, sending her body crashing onto the hard floor. I then took the opportunity to light the Sambuca on fire. It slowly caught fire and began to give off a very aromatic smell, almost like black licorice mixed with wood smoke.
She ran around screaming about how her head was burning, knocking bottles of booze over as she attempted to extinguish the fire. She grabbed a bottle of beer and poured it onto her burning head. The fire had stopped, she was relieved but then her emotions turned to rage as she charged me yet again.
This time she got me on the ground and was sitting on top of me punching me in the nose relentlessly. Weighing in at a spectacular 98 pounds, it was easy to throw her off into the racks of vodka. I stood up and was tempted to leave, as I am trying my hardest to be nice to humans and not to murder them, but she got up yet again and charged me with a broken vodka bottle.
I knew I had to end this, so I pulled out my trusty butterfly knife and with an upward thrust, I impaled her through the bottom of her chin, through her tongue and into her mouth. Blood began to flow, and she was making an awful noise so I taped her mouth shut and beat her over the head with various liquor bottles of differing sizes.
Resilience, her name is Liquor Store Woman. She wouldn’t die and I had an optometrist appointment soon approaching, so I decided it was time for a new approach. Using the forklift in the back of the store I drove over to her and placed her face up on the ground. I took careful aim over top of her head and began to lower the forks.
Das Efx began to play in my head, and as I touched down upon her face, I swear I heard her say “So Peter Piper, I’m hyper than Pinnochio’s nose” but I believe my intoxication had something to do with that.
Her head began to cave in, so I propped something next to the control so that I could hop off and get a better look.
As the forks pushed down, her eyeballs exploded and blood trickled from her ears. Her brain was now being forced out of her skull and she was emitting a sound, something like the beep from an answering machine, but very high pitched. As the forks touched down on the ground, all that was left of the woman’s head was a pile of unrecognizable slop. I scooped it into a Ziploc bag and sold it to the chinaman down the street later on that day.
I learned lessons in tolerance and compassion that day.
On a side note, after my appointment, I was informed that I have close to 20/20 vision, so I was rather pleased with that.
I asked her why I had to leave and she told me that I wasn’t allowed to drink the product within the store. I told her that I can walk into a corner store and drink a pop inside, so why couldn’t I do the same here?
Things began to get ugly from here, mostly due to the fact that when I indulge in alcoholic beverages I tend to get belligerent and opinionated. She repeated that I had to leave, and I refused. She walked over and picked up the telephone in an attempt to scare me out of the store.
I picked out a bottle of Sambuca and hid it behind my back. Walking up to the counter where she was, I popped the top off of the bottle and poured the contents on the top of her head. I took a step back and laughed as her eyes turned red and her head began to shake. Screaming about how she was going to kill me, she picked up a knife from behind the counter and charged at me.
I dodged her attack and tripped her, sending her body crashing onto the hard floor. I then took the opportunity to light the Sambuca on fire. It slowly caught fire and began to give off a very aromatic smell, almost like black licorice mixed with wood smoke.
She ran around screaming about how her head was burning, knocking bottles of booze over as she attempted to extinguish the fire. She grabbed a bottle of beer and poured it onto her burning head. The fire had stopped, she was relieved but then her emotions turned to rage as she charged me yet again.
This time she got me on the ground and was sitting on top of me punching me in the nose relentlessly. Weighing in at a spectacular 98 pounds, it was easy to throw her off into the racks of vodka. I stood up and was tempted to leave, as I am trying my hardest to be nice to humans and not to murder them, but she got up yet again and charged me with a broken vodka bottle.
I knew I had to end this, so I pulled out my trusty butterfly knife and with an upward thrust, I impaled her through the bottom of her chin, through her tongue and into her mouth. Blood began to flow, and she was making an awful noise so I taped her mouth shut and beat her over the head with various liquor bottles of differing sizes.
Resilience, her name is Liquor Store Woman. She wouldn’t die and I had an optometrist appointment soon approaching, so I decided it was time for a new approach. Using the forklift in the back of the store I drove over to her and placed her face up on the ground. I took careful aim over top of her head and began to lower the forks.
Das Efx began to play in my head, and as I touched down upon her face, I swear I heard her say “So Peter Piper, I’m hyper than Pinnochio’s nose” but I believe my intoxication had something to do with that.
Her head began to cave in, so I propped something next to the control so that I could hop off and get a better look.
As the forks pushed down, her eyeballs exploded and blood trickled from her ears. Her brain was now being forced out of her skull and she was emitting a sound, something like the beep from an answering machine, but very high pitched. As the forks touched down on the ground, all that was left of the woman’s head was a pile of unrecognizable slop. I scooped it into a Ziploc bag and sold it to the chinaman down the street later on that day.
I learned lessons in tolerance and compassion that day.
On a side note, after my appointment, I was informed that I have close to 20/20 vision, so I was rather pleased with that.
