want that happy meal even more. he opened the suitcase and took $5, hoping fat charlie wouldn't notice. he left everything else behind and crossed the street to the golden arches.
"double pounder, hold the onions, with fries and a coke" he said to himself as he stepped into mickey d's.
this time he was going to get it HIS way.
THE END.
"double pounder, hold the onions, with fries and a coke" he said to himself as he stepped into mickey d's.
this time he was going to get it HIS way.
THE END.
posted by:
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Los Angeles
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Re: a happy meal
Thu, June 9, 2005 - 12:10 PMbut, then, who was he to talk? he was a greedy fucking goddamn son of a bastard who couldn't shake the feeling that he'd met his match. he felt his respect for her straining against the zipper of his pants. women, he thought. suddenly, the black dahlia murder made total sense to him. but this was one broad he only wanted to chop in half with his dick. still, she seemed elusive, somehow above it all, which only made him ... -
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Re: a happy meal
Thu, June 9, 2005 - 5:18 PM...sing like a bird.
although it had seemed promising when they were at the strip club, back at her place, he could tell the night was going nowhere. watching her undress was driving him crazy. "i gotta get outta here but goddam, look at that rack" he thought to himself.
sure she'd stolen his car, his house, and his wife -
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Re: a happy meal
Thu, June 9, 2005 - 10:09 PM...and now there was nobody left.
there were a lot of things he couldn't have guessed before, he thought to himself. he made a mental list. he couldn't have guessed that
1. the whole skinny-dipping scenario was just an elaborate ruse to get him out of the house
2. the firearms he had been counting on turned out to be nothing more than a bundle of sticks, and
3. that someone so physically unappealing could -
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Re: a happy meal
Fri, June 10, 2005 - 9:36 AMhe had wanted it to end in a blood orgy of naked body parts strewn around the pond--the crime scene marked off by yellow tape... he had wanted so badly to pull the trigger himself...
instead, he looked the fool--with his armload of sticks, and that whole gang of people he had wanted either to impress, or kill, shaking their heads disparagingly at him as they left--their perfect tan young bodies and smug expressions still intact. But in a way, he had gotten his wish--he was unto himself... -
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Re: a happy meal
Fri, June 10, 2005 - 10:14 AMthen the phone rang.
it was amanda. he knew what she wanted, so he didnt' even bother answering. he let the call go to voicemail. he grabbed his sticks and jumped in his truck to head over there.
5 minutes later he kicked down the door and was ready for action. HIS kind of action. but one quick look around the room and he realized that this just wasn't going the end they he'd wanted it.
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