Stinger

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In southern Texas not far from the Mexican border a desperate scientist is looking

for a wasp.

And not just any wasp but a large female tarantula hawk.

A wasp known for its aggressiveness and large stinger.

 

The reason the scientist is desperate is because he is working for a dangerous drug smuggler from Mexico.

This smuggler is named El Groucho he is mean and nasty without any good bones in his body.

He has been sneaking drugs into America for over a decade but lately all of his attempts

from been thwarted by the US authorities.

So he has come up with a cunning plan instead of digging under the border he will fly over it.

So he has decided to use genetically modified wasps as drug mules.

 

That is where the scientist comes in.

His family was kidnapped by El Groucho a few weeks ago and if the scientist doesn’t genetically modify a wasp into a drug smuggler his family will be killed.

The scientist’s name is Dr Michael Chapman and he is the most respected genetic scientist in the USA.

 

El Groucho’s crazy idea is to have an aggressive female tarantula hawk wasp mated with a male mexican wasp known for its endurance and its temper.

But most of all for its extra large stinger.

So El Groucho is hoping to have the two nasty wasps offspring genenetically modified into drug smugglers with large stingers to fight off eagles and others large prey and to deliver the drugs to the american public at large.

 

Up in Laredo the scientist has finally located a female tarantula hawk and is on his way back to El Groucho’s compound in Nuevo Juarez Mexico.

The scientist thinks that El Groucho should be called El Loco instead because his plan is crazy and diabolical.

But he will do anything to save his wife and two children so he puts his foot down and drives towards Mexico.

 

He arrives at the compound four hours later and El Groucho rush’es him inside and orders him to get to work immediately.

The scientist refuses and tells El Groucho that he want start until he knows that hi family is safe.

So El Groucho orders one of his henchman to bring the family to him immediately.

And a few minutes later the scientist is reunited with his family where they hug and kiss for a while until his family is taken away and he is taken downstairs where a rudimentary laboratory has been set up.

 

The scientist has a look around and cant believe that El Groucho expects him to work under these conditions.

But he knows that he hasn;t got any choice so he puts the box containing the female wasp on a table and gets to work.

He looks over to a small glass enclosure about three foot square where a small male wasp is buzzing around.

He captures  the wasp and extracts a few drops of sperm from its body.

He places the male back into the enclosure and gets to work.

 

The scientist examines and modifies the sperm day and night for two days until he is satisfied.

He has one last look under the microscope and than tell s the henchman to summin El Groucho.

El Groucho enters the lab and congratulates the scientist and watches while the sperm is injected into the female.

The female is placed into the enclosure with the male wasp where they quickly size each other up.

 

The scientist is going crazy while he waits for the female to lay her eggs.

But two days later she goes to the corner of the enclosure and deposits three little eggs on the glass.

The male comes flies over to inspect the situation but is quickly stung multiple times by the female and quickly devoured.

 

The scientist and El Groucho are both disappoited by the size of the eggs.

All three of the eggs appear normal and the scientist knows that his family are now in very deep trouble.

Than the female falls to the bottom of the enclosure  where she starts to expand.

She continues to grow and grow until she explodes in a cloud of blood and guts.

 

What emerges is a large wasp about the size of a sparrow who bash’es against the glass trying to escape.

It continues to grow and is now the size of  a dove with a mean temper and a stinger the size of a mans finger.

El Groucho orders the scientist to put his arm into the enclosure and pull the wasp out.

The scientist isn’t to keen with this idea but he has little choice when the henchman comes up behind him brandishing a large machete.

 

The scientist Puts his arm inside the enclosure and is quickly stung by the large stinger.

He grimaces in pain but he places the wasp on the table where it looks at the humans in curiosity.

El Groucho feels like frankenstein  with his monster but he looks down at that wasp and starts to talk. “You are my creation and i am your master you will obey my every command and smuggle drugs to america  until i tell you to stop ,do you understand?’

The wasp who has now grown to the size of a falcon nods its head in understanding.

 

The scientist is in a bad way and is struggling to breathe.

He can do nothing but stare in horror as is family is brought to him and are slaughtered in cold blood by the henchman’s machete.

The scientist takes his final breath and he along with his family are dragged outside and dumped in the backyard.

 

For three months the wasp flies back and forth from Texas and Mexico delivering its evil wares.

Every time it returns it feeds on the scientist and his family has his saddlebags replenished and takes off for america once again.

 

On its way back to america the modified wasp is caught in a storm where it is battered by the wind and rain.

One of the saddlebags burst open and over a kilo of cocaine enters its system.

The wasp savours the taste of the drug and it immediately wants more.

It puts its stinger into the saddlebag and has another taste.

 

The wasp alters course and heads back to Mexico and his master.

It continues to have taste after taste of the drug until its brain becomes damaged by the drug.

The wasp who is now the size of an albatross with a stinger the size of a baseball bat is now on a rampage.

 

El Groucho and the henchman are in the compound counting all the dirty money when the wall comes crashing in.

They both look but cant believe what they are seeing.

The wasp has grown into enormous proportions it is now the size of a large dog and it is still growing.

Its stinger is now as long and thick as a mans leg.

 

The henchman swings his machete but with little impact.

The wasps exoskeleton is now armour plated with a two inch thick skin of steel.

It hovers over El Groucho and the henchman

Then it strikes.

 

The henchman is impaled on the giant stinger and is injected with venom and his insides quickly turn to mush.

The wasp sucks up his liquid lunch and with a burp of satisfaction he releases the dried up husk.

Than the wasp turns its attention to El Groucho.

 

But El Groucho is nowhere to be seen.

While the wasp was having its meal he made his escape.

The wasp is pissed off that it cant have a proper revenge.

So it digs once more into the saddlebags and has another taste.

Next stop Texas.

 

Part two is coming soon so stay tuned.

I Cut

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I cut myself this morning.

I cut myself deep.

My skin starts to tingle.

And my demons start to creep.

 

I cut a little deeper.

And i kind of like the pain.

I stare into my bathroom mirror.

And i cut myself again.

 

My cutting tool of choice.

Is a sharp little pocket knife.

I cut because i am always afraid.

My knife is my one and only friend.

I will cut until the bitter end.

 

I cut myself one more time.

And a line of blood appears on my face.

I look into my mirror.

But i stare into space.

 

I cut a little deeper.

And hope that my memories will disappear.

My blood runs down my face.

And mingles with my tears.

 

I don’t usually cut my face.

But my life has become a living hell.

I had to deal with a lot of people.

And i don’t do that well.

 

I cut myself again.

With my trusty little blade.

And i watch my blood flow.

I love my fucking knife.

It gets me through my life.

 

I know that i am a huge failure.

I never do anything right.

I try my best but it is never good enough.

Why do i even get out of bed.?

Who is that person living in my head?

 

My favourite colour is blue.

So why do i like blood so much?

Just a little nick.

And i feel some pleasure.

A pleasure that cuts through the pain.

I  feel some sort of release.

Some well earned peace.

 

A few of my friends at work.

Asked me about the cuts on my face.

I told them that i got scratched by my neighbours cat.

They laughed ‘Was it a fucking tiger?’

I tried to laugh with them.

But i could barely manage a smile.

While beneath the table i fondle my trusty blade of steel.

Only my knife knows how i feel.

 

I cut for the first time when i was thirteen.

I thought i was just your normal schoolboy

But the other kids thought different.

And they let me know in no uncertain terms.

I was constantly on my guard.

With a belly full of worms.

 

I was called names had my hair pulled

And some of the other kids even spat on my face.

That is when i retreated into my mind.

And went to a better place.

 

So i bought myself a pocket knife.

And started to cut.

The best places to cut.

Was my inner arms and thighs.

I cut and cut with silent cries.

 

When i was fourteen.

I was brutalised so much at school i could barely

function.

I struggled home a broken little boy.

The other kids had taken all of my joy.

 

That night i ran myself .

To try to drown away my sorrows.

As i washed myself my eyes were drawn to my fathers razor

sitting on the edge of the tub.

I picked it up and gave it a tender rub.

 

The razor was a wilkerson sword of unknown vintage.

Old and rusty but sharp just the same.

As i held that razor.

I heard it calling my name.

 

One deep cut.

And all of my pain would be gone.

But o couldn’t do it.

I didn’t want my parents to find me in a bath full

of blood.

 

So i just gave myself a shallow cut.

And marvelled at the drops of red.

I smiled at the sight.

And toddled off to bed.

 

I cut because i feel like it.

I cut because i can.

I cut to free myself.

I cut to be a better man.

 

They say that the first cut is the deepest.

But my deepest cut is yet to come.

It might be tomorrow or the day after that.

But my deepest cut will be one day very soon.

Of that i can give you a guarantee.

So listen really well.

Because this is my final plea.

I CUT.

 

 

 

 

THE END.

Ancestor’s Bones

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On the edge of the wind swept moors of southern Scotland lies an isolated group

of villages.

The villages are known for its prime beef and spring lambs.

It is also one of the wettest places on earth.

Where hardly a day goes by that it doesn’t rain.

 

All of the water flows into the Smyth river that winds among the villages providing

the locals with fish and crabs.

And because of all the rain the river floods every five years or so.

It has been four years since the last flood so an overflow is due.

 

On the bank of the river is the local cemetery that has served the locals needs since

1266.

The rich and the poor are buried beside each other their tombstones point to the sky

to mark their final resting place.

Some of the deceased were village elders while some others were just ordinary folk.

Together they lie in peace and harmony.

But that peace is about to be broken.

 

All of the villagers are huddled inside beside their fires keeping out of the weather.

It is raining again today just like yesterday and the day before.

In fact it hasn’t stopped raining for twenty days now.

And the river Smyth has turned into a torrent.

 

In the cemetery the water table is rising rapidly and the coffins are beginning to float.

Slowly inch by inch they are making their way to the surface.

And after a midnight downpour they finally break through.

Where they sparkle under the dark sky.

 

Still the water level is rising until the river floods the landscape.

The coffins begin to bob and dance in the water.

And then one by one they are all swept away.

 

The coffins are swept down stream where they side swipe each other and begin

to break apart.

The contents spill into the water and the bones float together in the murky human

remains soup.

Some of the bones are swept away but most somehow make it to the shore.

Where they begin to crawl.

 

Thousands of bones have reached the bank .

They climb up onto the grass and start to inter mingle searching for the right DNA.

And like a human jigsaw puzzle the bones fall into place.

The bones fuse together into misshapen skeletons and start to stroll towards the villages.

 

They slowly shuffle forward sniffing the air seeking out their still living ancestors.

It is slow going because a lot of the skeletons are missing arms and legs.

But eventually the bones find the homes of their kin.

And the enter through the walls.

 

Mary Alcott is still grieving.

Her Mother Kate died from the black lung disease three months ago.

Mary is worn out sad and al alone in the world she can barely function.

Why did her mother have to die?

Mary Alcott hangs her head and starts to weep.

 

The tears freeze on her cheeks.

A sound is coming from her mothers old bedroom upstairs.

Her mother used to sit in a rocking chair while she did her needlepoint.

Mary’s skips and misses a beat as she rushes up the stairs.

When she opens the bedroom door her mouth gapes open.

While her chin hits the floor.

 

A collection of human bones is sitting in the rocking chair.

Back and forth it creaks.

Mary inches forward ‘Mother is that you?’

She takes a deep breath and moves even closer to that chair.

Her eyes bulge until they almost pop.

A version of her mother is sitting there doing some unfinished needle point.

Mary screams out the lords name.

 

Her mother gives Mary a twisted smile of welcome and tries to speak.

But all that comes out is the stench of death.

Mary is torn between love and repulsion.

She starts to move forward than takes a step back.

 

But she isn’t quite quick enough.

Her mothers leaps out of the chair and smothers Mary in a loving embrace.

Mary wants to pull back but she is strangely drawn towards the collection

of her mothers bones.

She has missed her mother so much.

 

So she surrenders to the touch.

She lets out a gasp as her mothers bones begin to fuse with her own.

Mary is Kate and Kate is Mary.

Mother and daughter are re-united once again.

 

In all of the villages near the cemetery the bones of  the dead are on the march.

They will soon visit their ancestors to begin life once again.

There is no use in resisting because the bones wont be denied.

Soon every home in the vicinity is visited by the bones of their dead.

And all is well.

 

Because there is no reason to be afraid.

Just remember that when you crack your knuckles or your bones start to creak.

It is just the bones of your ancestors saying hello.

 

So look after your bones.

Drink a lot of milk and treat your ancestors well.

Because if you don’t your soul will become your ancestors to sell.

 

 

 

THE END

Threads ( Clothes That Kill )

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On the third Sunday of every month.

My local rotary club holds markets to help the community.

So come on down and have a look around.

Something will surely catch your eye.

 

There is a new stall holder this year.

He has set up his wares right out the back.

And he knows that for some he will soon become the main attraction.

Like moths to a flame they will be attracted to his aura.

He sells clothes that are trendy funky and current.

A real killer.

 

The owner of the stall is a man who goes by the name of Albion Lestrange.

He is really old and could easily pass as an Egyptian mummy.

His skin is mottled with age spots and he smells like death warmed up.

But when he smiles people don’t seem to notice.

All they see is a lonely old man trying to make some money on the side.

But Albion Lestrange is a completely different kettle of fish.

He will look you right in the eye as he steals your last breath.

 

He has set up his stall on the edge of Lake Macquarie.

And has surrounded himself with with racks of his killer apparel.

Than Albion sits back and relaxes while he waits for his next victim to approach.

Like a human spider with an invisible web.

 

Kim Watkins is feeling a little bit down.

Her school dance is being held on Saturday night and she has got nothing to wear.

Maybe a walk around the lake will help to cheer her up ?

She is also hoping to find something at the markets.

A pair of ear rings would be nice.

But what she really wants is a little black dress.

 

Albion estrange has been sitting on his easy chair all day.

And he isn’t in a very good mood.

He has sold most of his stock but he is still waiting for that special someone to

approach.

 

He is thinking about packing up and hitting the road.

When from the corner of his eye he notices a teenage girl getting close.

She is still 500 metres away but Albion knows that she is the one.

And he knows exactly what she wants to buy.

So he goes to the back of his van and grabs a little black dress that he has made especially for this occasion.

He puts a reptilian smile on his face and waits.

 

Kim Watkins has wandered from stall to stall and nothing has really caught her eye.

Than she notices a van parked way out the back.

Oh well, there is nothing to lose so walks over to have a look.

And when she gets a bit closer she cant believe her eyes.

Because right there front and centre is just what she needs a little black dress.

This must be her lucky day.

 

Albion Lestrange stands up when the girl reaches his stall.

And asks her what is she looking for?

Even though he already knows.

Kim has that little black hands in her hand and she asks Albion where she can try it on?

 

Albion tells her that he hasn’t a change room.

But Kim isn’t really listening she has what she wants.

She hands over the money and gets out of there.

 

As she walks away she has one last look over her shoulder.

That old guy was really creepy and he smelt like the living dead.

She walks away with a feeling of disgust,but she is happy.

Now she can go to the school dance.

 

Albion Lestrange has no need to follow the girl.

He knows exactly where she lives.

All he has to do is wait for that girl to try that dress on and he will steal that smile right off her face.

He will steal her very existence.

 

Albion has been stealing smiles and lives for a very long time.

He was born in Bulgaria in the year 1796 to a loving mother but a very abusive father.

And when he was three years old his father sensing that there was something wrong with his son.

Put him into a burlap sack and threw him in the river.

 

But lucky for Albion a band of gypsies were camping on the edge of the river.

They saw the sack floating by and pulled it into shore.

And when they untied the sack were surprised to see a small child inside.

They all thought they he was the second coming of Christ.

So they wrapped him in a sacred gown and bowed in his presence.

 

When Albion was twenty one he was taken to the leader of the gypsies who was  laying

on her death bed.

She beckoned Albion forward and blessed him with Holy water.

The elder pointed towards the corner of the room where a crystal ball sat on a velvet cloth.

She told Albion that the crystal ball was now his.

He is to take that ball and be a visionary for the people.

 

So Albion took that crystal ball and he travelled the world gazing into its aura.

But when Albion gazed into the ball he didn’t see visions of good he saw visions of hell.

As he travels he takes the money from the foolhardy and tells exactly what they want to hear.

 

But as always Albion is beginning to show his age.

His skin is as thin as parchment paper and he smells like the living dead.

But not bad for a human over 220 years of age.

And Albion has no plans to die just yet so once again he gazes into that crystal ball.

He sees visions of multi coloured threads.

Those threads dance around in Albion’s mind and a memory forms.

 

He remembers when he was growing up the gypsy elder telling him about magical

threads that could be woven together to kill.

He could kill without leaving a thread of evidence behind.

 

Albion is almost spent.

He has gazed so deep into that crystal ball that he has used up all of his reserve energy.

He is now nothing more than skin and bone.

But at that moment his crystal ball begins to glow.

Albion drags himself over to it and smiles with glee.

 

A young women is approaching his front door,she is the one.

He casually arranges the apparel around the room and waits for his life blood to knock.

And she does.

He shows the girl inside and she looks a little apprehensive.

At 221 years of age Albion knows that he isn;t exactly looking his best.

But he smiles at her and guides her toward the viewing room.

 

Albion gazes into the crystal ball and whispers the words that the women is craving.

And he notices that her eyes keep drifting towards a sweater draped over a chair.

Made with a combination of green and black magical threads the sweater is irresistable.

So after the reading Albion tells the lady to take the sweater with his blessings.

 

An hour later the lady gets home and runs into her bedroom.

She cant wait to try the sweater on.

Soon she is standing in front of the mirror she is so happy the sweater is a perfect fit.

It is like it was made for her.

 

Albion is gazing into his crystal ball watching as the lady dances around in delight.

And when she looks into the mirror once more.

Their eyes meet.

Albion can see the lady screaming and he gazes even deeper.

Soon the scream turns to horror as the sweater starts to constrict.

The lady panics as she tries to get the sweater off.

But it squeezes and squeezes until she takes her final breath.

 

Albion places his mouth onto his crystal ball.

And as the last breath leaves the Ladies body it enters Albion’s .

And it gives him a new lease on life.

Albion could now pass as your average 45 year old man.

 

It has been over a month since the girl visited his stall to buy that little black dress.

And still she hasn’t tried it on.

Albion is getting frustrated he knows that he want stay young much longer.

He needs fresh blood and he needs it now.

Once again he gazes into his crystal ball.

 

Kim Watkins the girl who bought the little black dress is upset.

She didn’t go to the school dance because her date stood her up so she threw the little

black dress into her closet without trying it on.

Now she is laying in bed having a very strange dream.

She is dreaming about that creepy foul smelling old man who sold her the dress.

He is telling her to visit him tomorrow morning and she is to wear that black dress.

 

The following morning Kim is feeling groggy like she is hungover.

And she finds herself pulling on her once favourite dress.

Then boarding a bus to the other side of town.

 

She gets off outside a run down house and walks towards it.

And before she can knock on the door the creepy old man opens it.

And beckons her inside.

Kim is surprised to find herself in a room with a crystal ball sitting on a table.

 

Albion sits her down opposite him and gazes into that ball.

Than he reaches across and starts to caress her hair and guides her mouth towards the ball.

When Kim’s mouth touches the crystal ball her body goes into a series of jerks and spasms

Albion puts his mouth on the other side of the ball and starts to suck the life from the girl.

 

Albion is in a state of bliss as the girls life blood enters his system.

He is once again a younger version of himself so he goes into the lounge and pours himself a large brandy to celebrate.

And he soon falls asleep with a smile of gratitude on his face.

 

When he awakes a few hours later he goes to check on the girls body.

And is surprised to see that she is still breathing.

So he starts to choke the girl to kill her once and for all.

But when he does he inadvertedly touches the threads on the little black dress.

And they weave and intermingle with his own clothing and they pull tight.

 

Albion reaches back towards his crystal ball to try and summon some help.

But he loses balance and knocks the ball to the floor.

Where it shatters into a thousand pieces.

And when it does his connection to the gypsies and the girl are broken.

He falls to the ground and lands beside Kim on the carpet.

Where they lay mouth to mouth.

 

Albion’s body starts to break down and decompose.

His skin splits and his internal organs start to rot.

And as his last breath leaves his body it enters Kim’s mouth and kick starts her heart.

 

She push’es the corpse of the creepy old fuck aside and gets to her feet.

As she stands the little black dress falls from her body and covers Albion Lestrange

like a burial shroud.

 

Kim runs into the bathroom hoping to find a bath robe to  wear.

And she is in luck.

She slips into a pair of womens shoes and gets the fuck out of there.

 

She doesn’t know what in the fuck just happened.

And she cant get out of the house fast enough.

But when steps onto the door mat a shard from the crystal ball gets embedded

into her shoe.

It sparkles like a diamond and is taken home by its new owner.

 

 

THE END

When Country Was Western

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My name is Stanley Robinson.

But you might know me by my stage name ‘Swamp Dog’ Robinson.

I had a few minor hits back in the sixties

Everybody told me that i should of made it to the top.

But i didn’t quite make it.

My name is ‘Swamp Dog’ Robinson.

And this is my story.

 

I was born July 28 1947 in a mean little town.

Not all that far away from Nashville Tennesse

A mean little town where everybody did it tough.

My mother was the head of the house because dad was injured in the war.

She did all that she could to keep the wolves from the door.

 

We didn’t have any money so we lived with grandpa at his house.

And sometimes he would entertain us by playing his guitar and singing along.

He told that what he was playing was called country and western.

But my mama called it the blues.

I didn’t care what it was called.

I just loved the sound of that guitar and grandpa’s voice

I knew then and there that playing country and western was my career of choice.

 

I used to sneak into grandpa’s room and fool around with his guitar.

And dream about moving to Nashville and becoming the latest new sensation.

Having girls throwing themselves at my feet.

My songs would be played on all of the radio stations.

I will become inducted in the country and western hall of fame.

And everyone on Earth will scream and know my name.

 

One night grandpa caught me messing with his guitar.

And he offered to show me how to play.

I quickly learnt all of the basic chords i just couldn’t get enough.

Me and my grandpa were hanging tough.

 

I practised everyday until my fingers would bleed.

That guitar meant the world to me.

Except of course for mama papa and grandpa to.

But that goes without saying.

I just wanted the world to hear me playing.

 

For my fifteenth birthday i was given my very own second hand guitar.

And it soon became my pride and joy.

I knew that money was tight and that mama and papa were struggling.

So i gave them a kiss and a hug of thanks.

I loved to watch my fingers move up and down the fret.

I thought to myself ‘ You haven’t heard nothing yet’

 

I took my guitar to school so i could practise every chance i got.

One day a teacher heard me playing and asked if i wanted to play in the

school band?

I just shrugged my shoulders ‘sure’ but inside my stomach was doing cartwheels.

I was boarding the train of with silver wheels.

 

So i joined the band and after a week of practise we were ready to play our first show.

But at the last minute the singer got cold feet and quit on the spot.

The teacher started to panic and asked if any of us could sing?

I put my hand up thinking ‘How hard could it be?’

That is when i discovered that i had a voice.

So now i was playing guitar and singing lead.

Unfortunately that is when my ego started to feed.

 

The school band was good,but i knew that i was better than the others

It was good to play to my family and friends.

But i wanted to play to the masses.

A friend told me about a club that held a talent quest every Thursday night.

So i racked up the courage and went to this seedy little joint

And waited for my chance at the end of the line.

I knew that this was a great opportunity to shine.

 

When my time came i walked onto the stage as nervous as a kitten.

But i soon turned into a lion and began to roar.

I gave it everything that i had and a whole lot more

I just let the music do the talking

I was only supposed to play one song ,but i ended up doing three.

The noise from the crowd got the adrenaline pumping.

And my ego got a boost that it didn’t really need.

I was floating up on cloud number nine.

But as you know not every cloud has a silver lining.

Sometimes they can turn heavy and black.

I was now walking a very dangerous path.

And there was no going back.

 

After my set i waited around for the other contestants to do their thing.

And even though i was underage a local bought me a whiskey to calm my nerves.

It filled my stomach with fire but it settled me down.

I licked my lips i really could do with another taste of that soothing liquor.

Looking back now i should have walked out of that door without looking back.

Already my world was beginning to crack.

 

I won the competition with first prize being a chance to record a demo tape.

That would be sent off to all of the record companies.

An opportunity to hit the big time.

I could tour the world with the likes of Cash.Kristofferson,Rodgers and Cline.

The cream of the crop.

I was too busy living on the edge of tomorrow.

So i didn;t hear the penny drop.

 

When i arrived at the recording studio first thing i did was visit the bathroom.

The day before i had bought myself a hip flask and filled with Johnny Walker Red.

I sat there and had myself a tiny little sip.

Barely enough to wet my lip.

 

But it was enough.

I got through the session with flying colours.

A couple of my own songs were put down plus a Jimmy Reeve cover.

I layed them all down in one take i was played like a man possessed.

Feeling rather pleased with myself i snuck off to have another drink.

A toast to my success.

I raised the flask up and ‘God bless’.

 

My demo was sent off to all of the record labels.

And i was expecting an avalanche of replies.

Instead all i heard was the roaring sound of silence

To say i was disappointed is an under statement in the extreme

But i was still in my teens so all i could do was play the local bars.

I played and played for years waiting for my break.

My drinking was getting out of hand

But it was a crutch that i needed to keep me from going insane

It also helped me to forget my memories and forget the pain.

 

Than one night i was playing at a local dive trying to make a living.

But still dreaming the dream.

After my set i was sitting at the bar having another glass of temptation

When i felt a tap on my shoulder,i turned to see a guy in a suit.

He told me that he had enjoyed my show and had listened to my old demo.

Would i be interested in a recording contract with Warner Bros ?

He told me that he would drive me to Nashville and i could sign the deal

My dream once again was becoming very real.

 

After a month of rehearsal and a whole lot of drinking

I entered the studio to record my first album

But the recording session didn’t go so well.

A bottle of whiskey was in my left hand and the microphone in my right.

So we had to play take after take.

I could tell that the session musicians were getting pissed off with my

unprofessional attitude.

But i didn’t really give a shit.

I was a star on the rise it is now my time to shine.

I celebrated with a bottle of whiskey and few glasses of wine.

 

To my and the record companies surprise the album was a hit.

In the first week it sold over 100.000 copies

And after a month my album was sitting at number 10 on the country and western

chart.

My management quickly arranged an American tour to cash in on the success.

I did interviews after interviews with the music press getting my name out there.

There was also talk of touring Europe Australia and Japan.

I am living the dream i am the main man.

 

The first show was in Cleveland supporting Waylon Jennings.

We are off to a flying start.

My backing band is red hot and we blow Waylon off the stage.

We travelled from town to town city to city criss crossing the whole country

The headlines were calling me the new kid in town the latest sensation.

I was quickly becoming the toast of the nation.

 

The tour was a great success until we reached Atlanta Georgia

I walked out onto the stage with my guitar and a bottle of Johnny Walker.

But midway through my set i started to forget the lyrics and i hit a few wrong notes,

The crowd was getting restless and had started to boo.

I gave them the finger and screamed out ‘fuck you’

 

I was kicked off the tour.

And i went back home with my tail between my legs.

My manager told me that my drinking was really starting ti get out of hand.

And i agreed that i needed to tone it down.

So we came to a compromise,i could have a glass or two before the show.

But nothing while i was onstage.

But inside my alcohol fuelled brain was starting to rage.

 

After a week of recovery i was reinstated onto the tour.

On the condition that i clean up my act and behave.

I wholeheartedly agreed to their wishes.

 

My antics at the Atlanta show had made the headlines  and gave my record sales

a boost.

But i knew that if i didn;t behave myself my career would be over.

I would have a shot or two and play and sing with soul.

But i was teetering on the edge of a great big hole.

 

For the next few years i kept a low profile.

Building up my fan base and keeping out of trouble.

My album sales were steady and a had a couple of hits in my home town.

But don;t think that i have turned into an angel.

Because every now and then i will go on a bender.

That will sometimes last a whole week.

My throat was so hoarse i could barely speak.

 

Than my manager calls with some good news.

Willie Nelson is coming to town and he wants me to be his support act.

Willie at the time was one of the biggest stars on the planet.

So this is a big chance to kick start my career.

So i will have to be on my best behaviour.

This is the last throw of the dice.

I will never get another shot at the big time if i keep fucking up.

I have to stop drinking from the Devils cup.

 

After two weeks of rehearsal i am ready for the show.

But instead of the usual two shots i down half the bottle to settle my nerves.

My manager tells that the concert is being filmed for a TV special.

So i sneak a bottle onstage and hide it behind the amps.

Just for a little insurance you have to understand.

I walk onstage the stage with my great little band.

 

I get a good ovation when i finish the first song.

But by the fifth song my throat is getting dry,

So during the guitar solo i go behind the amps for a little taste.

A voice in my head is screaming  ‘What a fucking waste’

 

After a few more visits to the bottle i just say fuck it and take the bottle back with me

and put it near my microphone stand.

Like a security blanket.

I have a long slug before i start my final song.

The bottle is almost empty.

My brain is a little blurry and i struggle to remember the words.

The last thing i remember is hearing the jeers and heckles from the crowd.

I start to stumble and fall right off the stage.

My career is over i have reached the final page.

 

I am now 55 years old and i am still waiting for that phone call that will never come.

I still play guitar and sing country and western.

Or country as they call it now.

I had my chance at stardom but i drank it all away.

My demons are with me and they are here to stay.

 

 

THE END.

Murder Of Crowes

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‘Jesus Christ,is that freaking clock going backwards?’

It is the last day before the summer break.

And the clock in the classroom decides to mess with my mind.

 

Has time stood still?

Has the second hand frozen in place?

Finally the school bell rings and i race outside.

Summer vacation is my favourite time of the year.

Six weeks without homework and teachers.

Six weeks of sunshine and fun.

 

Three of my friends are waiting for me by the school gate

Kyle Coogan,Brian Jones,Dennis Steele and i have been friends since

kindergarten.

But next year we will be going to different high schools.

So this could be the last break that we spend together.

 

My name is Charlie Osborne and i am twelve years old.

I am almost a teenager but not quite.

If this is to be the last summer break i get to be with my friends.

I want to make the most of it.

 

My friends and i are just like any boys our age.

We like to go swimming,fishing and camping out in our backyards.

Sometimes we will collect tadpoles and pick blackberries.

All the normal boy stuff.

 

Today we decide to explore the bush land behind Kyles place.

Sometimes we will come across a kangaroo chewing on grass.

Or a goanna climbing up a tree.

But this time we see something different.

 

A black crow is on the ground running around in circles.

It has a broken wing and cant fly away.

I tell Kyle to go back to his house and get a box.

Maybe we can look after this bird until its wing heals.

 

Kyle looks at me like i am crazy ‘Fuck that it is only a crow’

He bends down and picks up a rock and throws it at the crow with all of

his might.

He misses but Brian and Dennis also start to throw rocks and stones at the crow.

 

Rock after rock hit the target and the bird falls to the ground.

They keep on throwing until that bird is dead.

I cant believe that my friends just did that.

But they are laughing and giving each other high fives.

I cant do anything for the bird so we run towards a water hole.

 

Up in the trees about twenty black crowes watch as the boys run away.

They fly from tree to tree following the boys as they wander down the

dirt track.

The crowes all have two things in common,they are all black.

And they all have murder in their eyes.

 

After a few hours of  swimming and skylarking around we decide to head home for something to eat.

All except Kyle who decides to stay behind and do some more swimming.

We wave to Kyle and tell him that we will be back in about an hour.

 

Kyle strips down to his underwear  and dives in head first.

As he swims and splashes around he doesn’t notice the crow’es gathering in the trees

above.

He continues to swim for a while but soon becomes bored.

So he decides to rest up and wait for his friends.

He spreads out his towel and starts to bake in the sun.

 

One of the crow’es lands on a branch just above Kyle and sizes up the situation.

Than without warning in lands on Kyle’s face with talons extended.

Kyle screams out in panic and tries to fight back but he has been taken by surprise

and he soon tires.

And before he knows what is happening both of his eyes are plucked out and swallowed

down whole.

 

By now Kyle is hysterical as the crow attacks his face.

Soon he goes into shock and offers little resistance.

The other crow’es descend onto Kyle and start to strip the flesh from his body.

Kyle’s body shudders as the black birds have their way.

They peck and claw at his body until he is nothing but a pile of bloody bones.

 

After lunch i meet up with Brian and Dennis and we make our way back to the water hole.

When we arrive Kyle is nowhere in sight.

All we see is his beach towel and his baseball cap floating in the water.

Beside the cap floats a single black feather.

 

We run home as fast as we can to get help.

My mother calls the police and we wait for them to arrive.

The area around the water hole is cordoned off and the police send for divers to

search the bottom.

And soon Kyle’s body is brought to the surface.

 

There is a gasp from the onlookers when the body comes into view.

His mother tries to run forward but is held back.

 

How has Kyle’s body been reduced to a skeleton in such a short time?

Was he attacked by a pack of wild dogs or is there a madman on the loose?

The police hold a police conference and tell everybody that until an autopsy

is performed.

It is best for people to be on their guard and for all of the neighbourhood kids

to stay indoors.

 

Brian Jones is home bored out of his mind.

It has been a week since Kyle was killed by who knows what

Brian feels sorry for Kyle,but it is summer break he needs to go out and play.

So he decides to sneak out and see how Dennis and Charlie are going.

He climbs out of his bedroom window under the cover of darkness.

 

Dennis only lives a few blocks away,so he will hang out for a while.

His parents want even know that he is gone.

As he walks under a street light he senses movement over his left shoulder.

When he looks back something slams into his face.

He staggers around in bewilderment with a bloodied nose and cut cheek.

 

Another black crow swoops down and attacks Brians face and neck.

Brian shit;s his pants and runs away in shock.

Straight into the path of a semi trailer.

 

The driver cant bake in time and he hits Brian full on.

The truck skids to a stop a hundred metres down the road.

The driver jumps out and races back hoping for the best but fearing the worst.

And the worst it is,

He cant believe that what he is seeing was once a living human being.

He looks away and vomits up his dinner completely covering a single black feather.

 

Dennis Steele is in his room crying into his pillow.

First Kyle was killed and now Brian.

Why are his friends dying?

It is school holidays we should all be having fun not cooped up inside.

When will his parents let him outside to fucking play?

 

Dennis knows that he has just  said the F word out loud but he doesn’t care anymore.

All he wants is for things to go back to normal again.

So that everybody can start to feel safe again.

 

Everything is getting to be too much for Dennis.

His nerves are shot to hell and his stomach is playing up.

And for the fifth time that day he makes his way to the bathroom.

 

He pulls down is pants and takes a seat waiting for nature to take its course.

When he hears a noise coming from the water below.

He looks down between his legs and sees a black bird heading for his scrotum.

 

He tries to jump up but he isnt quite fast enough.

The crow pecks open his ball bag and his testicles disappear down the throat of that

crazes bird.

His screams could be heard from twenty five miles away.

 

Inch by inch Dennis is pulled down into the toilet bowl.

His bones creak and crack and finally break as he is swallowed down into the sewers.

 

As Dennis enters his watery grave his parents are frantically trying to kick down the bathroom door.

And when they finally do all they see is a broken toilet

.And a single black feather.

 

Holt fucking Christ on a crutch.

I cant believe it.

First Kyle than Brain and now Dennis.

Who or what is killing all of my friends?

 

As i sit with my parents watching some TV i remember the cops telling them about finding a black feather in Dennis bathroom.

My mind goes back to that day at the water hole.

Surely it cant be about that?

Do crow’es have good memories like elephants?

They  say that elephants never forget but what about crow’es?

 

I tell my parents that i need to go for ride.

They try to stop me but i am gone in a flash.

I jump on my bike and race back to that waterhole.

And i soon arrive at the spot where we stoned that crow to death.

 

So i am so nervous my goose pimples have dimples.

I sit down in the middle of the track and wait.

All of the leaves in the trees shake and fall to the ground.

Soon i am surrounded by a green carpet and a thousand naked branches.

Is the devil coming to take me away?

Or are the black crow’es on the warpath?

 

I am guessing the latter but i don’t really know.

Soon the sky is full of black wings and an eerie silence.

Then twenty black birds land at my feet and start to do a war dance.

Or maybe it is a rain dance? One can only hope.

But the sky i clear there isn’t a cloud in sight.

So war it is.

 

One of the crow’es rushes in and attacks my left foot

I look at that crow as it grabs my little toe and tears it from my body.

And it flies back up into the trees with my twinkie in its mouth.

 

As i am distracted another bird attacks my other foot and another toe is swallowed

down.

It looks like these crow’es are going to kill me very slowly

Toe by toe bit by bit.

 

The remaining crow’es continue to walk around me in a clockwise direction.

What body part will they attack next?

‘God don’t let it be my eyes i don;t want to be blind’

And Jesus don;t let it be my willy.

I haven;t had sex yet please don;t let me die a virgin.

 

While i have been sitting in the dirt thinking another bird has flown in and taken a chunk out of my ear.

I don’t dare to fight back because i know that if i do the birds will go into a feeding frenzy.

So i cover my nuts with both hands put my head down and pray.

And through the pain i try to relax and hopefully the crow’es will fly away and leave me

in peace.

And not pieces.

 

 

But no such luck.

Another chunk is taken from my body

Blood is pouring from deep groves and starts to pool on the ground.

I pray to God and whisper goodbye to mum and dad.

 

But you know what ? Fuck that.

I jump up and scream at those fucking birds.

I tell them that i am sorry that their friend died but enough is enough.

I close my eyes and count to fifty and when i open them the birds are gone.

I turn back and start to limp home.

Than the crow’es are back.

 

These freaking birds swoop down in attack mode.

And they attack my head with venegance tearing out my hair strand by strand.

Holy fucking crap i am getting scalped by a bunch of birds.

Or should i say a murder of crow’es.

 

I cant see a thing as my blood streams down my face.

I wait for another attack but it doesn’t come.

I wipe my face with my shirt and scan my surroundings.

There isn’t any sign of the crow’es.

I pick my self up ans wander towards home.

 

Than a crow lands on the track just in front of me

He is obviously the ring leader.

With his chest puffed out he struts around like a peacock.

I look down at that black bird and once again i apologise for my behaviour

I will never ever harm another crow as long as i live.

 

The crow looks up at me with disdain.

Than he flies up and lands on my shoulder he walks over to my bleeding ear

and whispers ‘Don;t forget i know where you live’

 

 

THE END.

Watermelon Sam

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If you are taking a drive along the lonely roads of southern Arkansas.

You will come across a wobbly old sign ‘Melons For Sale’

But let me give you a word of advice.

Just buy your melons and be on your way.

Better still ignore the sign and keep on going.

And don’t look back.

 

The owner of the melon farm is a cranky old timer named Sam Hendry.

He has a reputation as a man not to mess with.

But he sure does know his melons

He grows any type of melon that you could ever want.

But watermelons are his speciality.

They are his pride and joy.

Just hand over your money and be on your way

Don’t try to haggle over the price.

 

Water melon Sam got his nickname when he was a little lad.

He would eat up to ten watermelons every single day.

In fact nobody has ever seen him eat anything else.

He would demolish those melons seeds and all.

As the water ran down his chin Sam would stare off into space.

Rubbing his crotch with a creepy evil grin.

 

Sam Hendry has loved on the farm all of his life.

It has been in his family for five generations.

But this generation will be the last.

Watermelon Sam is now forty five years old.

And in that time he has never ventured more than fifty miles.

 

Once a month he drives into town to buy his supplies.

Then he scurries on back home.

The outside world doesn’t interest him at all.

All he wants is to be left alone with his melons.

If you leave him alone he will give you no harm

But if you disturb his isolation he will kill you in a heartbeat.

 

At fifteen Sam took a life for the first time.

In fact he took two.

He decided that his parents were getting in the way so they had to go.

He tied them to chairs in the kitchen and force fed them watermelon

until they choked.

He got all hard and excited as he watched his mother and father breathe

their last breath.

He never loved his parents when they were alive.

But he smiled and welcomed their death.

 

He left them tied to the chairs for over a week

Until they started to stink and become over ripe.

Than he buried them out in the water melon patch.

 

Over the following weeks he watched in amazement as his melons grew

like never before.

Obviously his new fertiliser is working wonders.

Nothing is better for your garden than human blood and bone.

 

Thirty years later and Sam is digging in his garden when a car drives into the farm.

He hates the intrusion,but at the same time he knows that the tourists supply him

with his needs.

They spend their money and take away a melon and a little taste of his ma and pa.

While others stay behind to supply nutrients for his melons.

 

You might of heard about the missing tourists on the evening news.

Every few months or so for the last thirty years.

A tourist has gone missing in Southern Arkansas.

 

The last tourist went missing three days ago.

Michael Tomkins was a businessman from Kansas who was on his way

home to his family.

But he made a huge mistake he decided to stop at a farm to buy some melons.

 

Watermelon Sam heard the car drive arrive and came to the decision that this tourist wasn’t going home.

So he put a smile on his face and acted real nice as the guy got out of his car.

‘Howdy there what can i do for ya? Michael is a little taken aback by this odd looking

old man.

But he smiles and says ‘Just a few Melons to take back to Kansas’

Watermelon Sam shows him over to the melon patch and tells the tourist to pick out the

melons that he wants.

 

Right in the middle of the patch is a freshly dug hole seven foot long and three foot deep.

Michael turns and asks and Sam ‘What is that hole for? Are you going to bury a dead calf?

Watermelon Sam shakes his head and says ‘No,I am going to bury a dead human’

It takes a second for the words to compute in Michael’s brain.

He goes to run but he doesn’t get very far.

 

Watermelon Sam picks up a pitchfork and runs it through Michael’s stomach.

Michael wriggles like fish on the end of a hook.

The pitchfork is stuck fast so Sam walks him over to the hole and drops him in.

Blood is gurgling from the tourists mouth but Sam couldn’t care less.

He puts his foot on his chest and after a struggle the pitchfork comes free.

Words are coming from the mouth of the dying man .

Sam doesn’t listen he covers him in three feet of dirt and walks away.

 

Sam is feeling mighty pleased with himself.

He is sitting on his front porch looking out over his garden.

If he owned a banjo he would be playing it right now.

But his hands are full.

He is devouring yet another watermelon.

He eats that melon like a man possessed.

But he is eating way too fast and one of the seeds goes down the wrong way.

Sam starts to choke he coughs and hacks trying to bring up that seed.

But all he achieves is to swallow that seed even further.

But at least he can breathe normally again.

 

Sam has no idea what is happening inside his body.

That seed has lodged inside his gut and has started to germinate.

A few days later Sam is starting to feel unwell and a bit bloated.

He hasn’t been to the toilet for two days.

He is backed up all the way to hell.

Sam rally needs to poo.

 

He stumbles around his watermelon patch like a crazy man.

Than he feels a tickle from his arsehole.

Maybe there is some relief after all.

He pulls down his pants and squats over his blessed earth.

 

A watermelon root sprouts from his arse and makes a bee line into the

dirt.

Sam tries to stand but he is stuck fast.

Mire roots appear from every orifice in his body.

Sam starts to panic.

Maybe if he can take a shit he can escape from this torture?

So he pushes and strains trying to open his bowels.

 

Sam is sweating with the effort God am i am shitting a bowling Ball?’

It isn’t a bowling ball but a huge watermelon.

Sams arsehole is stretched to the limit.

Then it snaps.

 

The watermelon plops out quickly followed by his intestines and something

that might be his colon or prostate.

Sam starts to pray and ask for forgiveness.

But it is way too little way too fucking late.

 

All of the roots have travelled down his body and taken anchor.

For watermelon Sam there is to be no escape.

Another root has sprouted from his shrivelled cock and out of his piss hole.

And it buries itself into the ground.

 

As Sam struggles for his life a hundred pair of hands appear from the tainted

earth.

His mother and father pull the hardest.

They want to make sure that their son cant hurt anybody else.

They pull and pull all the way down to the earths core.

 

 

THE END

Squeeze The Clouds

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My family has been living on the land for over five

generations.

Since 1860 we have produced the finest woo in the

state.

The fleece has won more blue ribbons than you can poke

a stick at.

But now the sheep are dying out in the paddocks.

It hasn’t rained in over a year.

The clouds refuse to shed even a single tear.

 

My name is Rodney Swain and i am ten years old.

And i know that my family is hurting.

I would do anything to make them happy.

I wish that i could climb a giant ladder and reach up into

the heavens.

I would squeeze the clouds until they cry.

Cant they see that the grass is brown and dying?

So why aren’t the clouds crying?

 

Every night after the evening meal.

We would all sit out on the back porch hoping to see

lightning and the sound of thunder.

But as usual the sky is full of stars there isn’t a cloud in

sight.

How can mummy and daddy continue the fight?

 

I work beside daddy everyday before and after school

Trying to keep the farm afloat

But how can you feed your livestock when the grass id dead

And the top soil has blown away?

Sometimes i see daddy wiping the tears from his eyes as he hand

feeds the animals

As i watch him a say a little prayer. ‘Please God make it rain so daddy

can get some rest’

‘We really need some rain to  to fill the rivers and dams’

That should put on smile on the faces of all the ewes and the randy

rams’

 

But still it doesn’t rain.

Maybe if i place on top of each other and climb that that giant ladder

I can reach high enough to squeeze the clouds.

And hopefully they will co operate and release some steady rain.

Don’t they realise you can only take so much heartache and pain?

 

In wake up in the morning in sheets wet with my sweat

6 am and already the heat is stifling.

Why does summer have to be so hot?

Cant there be a season where it doesn’t get above 28 degrees

and it rains every second day?

Why does my family and all the other families have to always live

in drought?

All we need is a little precipitation.

To saturate the whole god damn nation.

 

The situation is getting drastic.

We reply on the rain for our very existence.

It hasn’t rained in three long years.

Today the temperature is forecast to reach 43 degrees

And the following will be more of the same.

The girl on the weather channel predicts the weather with a smile

She says there wont be any rain for quite a while.

 

How can she smile when families on the land are hurting?

Doesn’t she know that farmers are killing themselves?

Because the clouds refuse to yield

Bills still need to be paid and everyone has to eat.

There is never enough money to go around.

All because of a lack of water.

Why doesn’t it rain so win can win the fight and stop the slaughter?

 

Maybe if i stack the three on top of five barns.

I will be able to climb the giant ladder and squeeze the clouds.

Until they start to weep.

Than we can all rest easy and finally get some sleep.

 

Another three months has gone by.

And still the clouds refuse to budge.

They turn black and threaten a down pour.

But it is all just sound and bluster.

Soon all of the clouds disappear over the horizon.

And once again it is clear skies sunshine and heat.

My family and the community are all strong.

But this time i think they are beat.

 

Maybe if i stack the three tractors on top of the five barns

along with seven houses.

I can climb the giant ladder and reach up and squeeze the clouds.

And they will open up and supply us all with days of steady rain.

So it can soak into the earth and turn the grass green

Fill all of the rivers creeks dams and water tanks.

I would look up into the clouds and scream THANKS

 

Another six months has passed.

And there hasn’t been a single drop.

So once again i start to think.

What if i stacked the three tractors on top of the five barns.

Along with the seven farm houses.

Than if i added nine skyscrapers  i could climb that giant ladder

And squeeze the clouds and those fuckers will relent to my touch.

Cause when you think about i am not really asking for much.

 

Sorry for saying the swear word out loud.

Please don’t tell mummy or daddy because i would get a belting.

I promise not to do it again,now where was i ?

 

‘Rodney’

I am startled to hear my mummy’s voice.

And also to find myself standing on the roof of our house.

Jumping up and down doing a rain dance.

‘Get down from there right this minute,or you will get a belting

you wont forget in a hurry’

I don’t know what i am doing,but i start to chant and pray.

I close my eyes and imagine those three tractors stacked on top of

the five barns.

Along with the seven farm houses with the nine skyscrapers.

I see myself climbing that giant ladder and reaching up to

squeeze the clouds.

 

And do you know what?

I can feel my fingers getting wet.

So i squeeze a little harder and the clouds finally release.

And send down the much needed rain.

Finally my family and all of the other farmers can look to the future

With a fresh attitude and a soggy smile.

Because i think the rain is going to be here for quite a while.

 

 

THE END.

I Wish

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I wish that i was tall and handsome

But alas i am short and stubby.

People in the streets call me fat.

But y’know i am only slightly chubby.

 

I wish that i was more out going

Instead of being an over sensitive guy

And even though i know the answer

I still ask myself the question Why?

 

I wish that i was a higher power

Than i could cure all diseases.

Than the people that i love and cherish

Will no longer have to die.

My eyes would shine and sparkle with happiness

And no have to cry.

 

I wish that my mother and father stop arguing

And just talk to one another.

Because they did love each other once upon a time.

They live in the same house just not together.

The house is surrounded by very stormy weather

 

I wish that the earth was flat.

Than i could push all the bad people over the edge

I would listen to them screaming all the way down

I know it is wrong but i think i would enjoy that sound

 

I wish that i was a prize fighter

Fighting for the heavyweight title

Instead of being a world champion wimp

But i suppose it could be worse.

I could wake up as the pulp fiction gimp

 

I wish that people of different races and religion

Could all just be at peace.

But all they do is fight because of creed and different

coloured skin.

But we are all human beings of the same kin

 

I wish that i could see things in black and white

Because sometimes distorts the starkness

And though though i enjoy the light

I also welcome the darkness

 

I wish that my pen would stop moving around the paper

But it likes to form words

But sometimes the words aren’t quite right

And i need to take a rest

But still my pen continues to write

It can sometimes be a real pest

 

I wish that i was more popular

Than i could hang with all the cool people

I could bask in the limelight

And smell the decadence and wealth

But at the same time i like to live behind the curtain

of stealth.

 

I wish that there were no more wars

But mankind has been fighting each other

Ever since they started to live in caves

It is now 2017 so  people lay down your weapons

And start to fucking behave

 

I wish that i was famous

My face would grace the cover of all the magazines

I could be a celebrity for no particular reason

Just like that family of Kardashians

I could have my own television series

For way too many seasons

 

I wish that a had a pet

A cat or maybe a dog

Than i would have to be a responsible adult

If i owned a dog i would have to feed it take it for walks

and pay huge bills at the vet

So on second thought i don’t really want a pet

 

I wish that i was a man of mystery

But i am just your average joe

I have a normal job and live in an ordinary house

I mow the lawn and take out the trash

Just like everybody else

And they is the way that i like it

I wouldn’t change not even a bit

 

Except maybe …..

 

What do you wish for?

Go ahead and make a wish

You never know it might come true

But it more than likely wont

Just close your eyes and make a wish

But don’t say it out loud

Keep it to yourself

Wish

 

 

THE END

 

Nasty Piece Of Work

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I live the lifestyle of the rich and famous.

Even though i have no money of my own.

I am 37 years old now and i haven’t worked a day

in my life.

I eat the rich and lay around all day.

Why should i work when other people can pay my way?

 

I was born under a full moon on Friday the 13th 1981.

My parents have told me that i was born bad.

And that i have been an arsehole ever since.

But i don’t care what other people think.

I just do what i please.

I just chop and chop until i bring them to their knees.

 

My devious ways got worse when i started school.

When i had a hundred other kids to pick clean.

They never knew what was happening.

I used every trick in the book to line my pockets.

I cheated at marbles and used stand over tactics.

 

And soon my pockets were overflowing with their lunch money.

And sometimes i even ate their lunch as well.

School can be good but i made it a living hell.

 

At high school i didn’t worry about playing games to get money.

I just used my fists and size to get what i wanted.

But fighting is hard work i used to work up a sweat.

Why couldn’t my family have money and live in the right

neighbourhood.

But y’know i kind of like being bad.

Fuck being good.

 

I have become a despised little jerk.

A real nasty piece of work.

 

After i finished school i was at a bit of a loose end.

I didn’t know what to do with myself.

I could get a job and make an honest living.

Or i could lay around smoking some weed.

Thinking of ways to spend other peoples money.

Why should i have to go to work and get my hands dirty.

My goal is to stay unemployed and retire when i am thirty.

 

At sixteen my hormones are raging

So i started to check out the local girls.

And they were giving me the loving eye.

But i knew that i had to aim higher if i was to reach my

objective.

Which is to make a lot of money without a lot of effort.

So i caught a bus (without paying) all the way to Caulfield

Heights.

Where all the rich people live.

I am all about taking i never fucking give.

 

They say love conquers all

But all i want is sex and some easy cash.

I just hope that i don’t end up with and empty wallet and a nasty

little rash.

 

At the local mall i take a seat in a coffee shop and wait for my prey.

And soon enough a girl walks in dressed up like a movie star.

She will do nicely.

She takes a seat across from me all ripe for the picking.

I give her my lovey dovey eyes a she smiles back .

She has taken the bait hook line and sinker.

And pretty soon we are sitting close together.

I move in for the kill hell bent for leather.

 

She tells me that her name is Cindy and that her family owns

half of the town.

And she offers to buy me a cup of coffee.

Well Cindy will pay for the coffee and a whole lot more.

I am going to reach into for soul and pull on her heart strings.

And i will not stop until the fat lady starts to sing.

 

I lean in close and tell Cindy a sob story.

About how i was kicked out of home and how i am struggling

to land on my feet.

Cindy sits there with her mouth open swallowing every word.

I cant believe this girl is so gullible

She offers to buy me lunch and provide a shoulder to lean on.

How can i refuse such an offer?

I eat and eat until i am ready to burst.

Just like a vampire with insatiable thirst.

 

I really am a jerk

A nasty piece of work.

 

Only sixteen and already i am on the road to ruin.

I don’t even try to be good.

Words tumble from Cindy’s mouth but i barely listen.

I am only interested in myself.

I just want to fill my pockets with ill gotten gains.

Who gives a shit for other peoples thoughts or pain?

 

Cindy is a sweet girl.

She deserves someone better than me.

I have’t listened to a word she has said.

All i want is to get my hands on her money

I will beg borrow or steal and bleed her dry.

I will leave nothing behind but an empty shell

Hello Cindy welcome to my hell.

 

Cindy stands up and says she has to visit the bathroom.

So why don’t i pay the bill whilst she is away.

She hands me her credit card and i go to the counter to pay.

But than i have second thoughts.

I walk out of the door and keep on walking.

 

As i walk down the street i reach into my pocket and pull out

a razor sharp switchblade knife.

Cindy will never know how close she came to dying today.

This time i gave her a break.

But the next time i want be so fucking nice.

Someone in my travels is going to pay a very heavy price.

 

So keep an eye out.

Because i could be headed your way.

If you see me coming.

Run as fast as you can

I really am a jerk.

A nasty piece of work.

 

 

THE  END.