there's that skull again
here's an oldie but a goodie
The Dog
"That fucking dog. I swear I'm gonna kill it." "Easy Jim. They just moved in." "I don't give a fuck, that bitch never shuts up." Jim Wilson had lived at 6110 Richmond for twenty years. He hated neighbors like the Smith family. "Half of them are inbred. Every time I go check the mail, there's a new baby. Must be twenty in there. I'm sick of paying their way. I bust my ass and they collect welfare." John Bender lit a cigarette. He was Jim's only friend. "You haven't busted your ass in ten years. All your ass does is drink all day." "That's beside the point, I did bust my ass. All they do is sit on the porch. I hear them laughing and yelling. It's all on Uncle Sam's dime." John put his cigarette out. "I'm getting the fuck out of here, try not to kill them." Jim went to the ice box and got a beer. His blood began to boil. "If I hear that fucking dog one more time." Jim talked to himself a lot. Four or five beers later, Jim starting feeling good. He turned on his record player. A rocking crescendo by Joe Ely. Jim twirled and did a jig. Then he heard it. The incessant barking started again.
Jim slammed his beer can against the wall. He went and got the whiskey bottle. Three shots later, it was time. The twelve gauge felt good in his hands. The little bitch stayed on a chain. The Smith family seemed to be gone. The Cowboys were probably playing tonight. They liked the Cowboys. Jim hated football. His interests were drink and boxing. The occasional whore as well.
The shells fit up nice in the tube. Jim took the safety off, and walked outside. His foot hit something, and the gun went off. The shot rang out in the dark night. Nobody seemed to hear it, or care for that matter. Cujo kept barking, something had startled her. Jim's blood was warm. It tasted salty in his mouth. He smiled at something, then got quiet.
The End
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