The Man, The Myth

First Published 7-29-09

So the other day I had just gotten off work, and I was really pissed off. For those of you who don’t know, my job is to teach bears kung fu. I had an especially hard day at work after demonstrating a reverse wrist lock on a grizzly that didn’t seem to appreciate it much. He started getting all pissy, and roaring in my face and whatnot. Knowing that I was in clear and present danger, I spat in the bear’s face and called it’s mother a slut. The bear tried to bite my face off, but it broke its teeth on my silken, shiny, and otherwise steel filament hair. After having its face literally rocked, it tried to back away, but would I let an injustice like that simply go? Of course not. I sawed off one of the bear’s arms and sodomized it with it until it bled to death through the ass. Obviously pissed off at having no choice but to make an example of it, given that that’s one less paying customer, I stormed out of the dojo/zoo animal holding rooms looking to blow off some steam.

Going down the street to a bar, I walked in and ordered one of everything. The barkeep wouldn’t serve me though because I’m under 21, which pissed me off even more, because who needs legality when you’re me? I decided I wasn’t going to murder the bartender’s children, because he was only doing his job, so I went back outside and quickly formed a plan. I jumped up onto the roof of the bar and waited. After about ten minutes, some poor chud stumbled out by himself, and went behind the bar to piss himself. I leaped off the roof with a terrifying scream, something I learned from playing Left 4 Dead, and caught the dope square in the chest. I took a shard of broken glass from the ground nearby and peeled the skin off of his face. Now being the just person I am, I explained to him why I went John Travolta in Face/Off on him and handed him a hundred dollars to get a new one. Putting his face on over mine and stealing his ID, I marched back into the bar and proceeded to re-order one of everything.

About halfway through the letter P, the barkeep stops me, saying I’ve had enough. Any semblance of mercy I graced him with was at that point out the window, with the barkeep himself shortly following suit. Well apparently, the barkeep’s friends were all there paying him a visit that day, and a bar fight so epic it would give Francis Begbie penis envy erupted. For those of you who don’t know who the mustachioed Begbie is…

So after routinely separating blood from its body and smashing a few bottles around, I let out a shout that made the roof of the bar collapse. After pulling myself out of and then surveying the wreckage, I concluded that my work here was complete. On my way down the street, I met a local family of Guatemalans selling kittens on the street corner. One of them saw me coming, picked up a kitten, and started waving it in my face and shit to say and show me how “cute” they were. Unfortunately for her, the term “cute” does not exist in a man’s word bank. The unthinkable happened.

The god damned mewing little shit began to pee as it was being dangled right in front of me. To this day, I know not whether it was simple coincidence, or that fact that my awesome presence forced the kitten into a state of shock, relaxing its muscles as it went limp and revealing a direct urinary passage out of the body. If it’s the former, I consider it God’s fault. How dare one as low as he attempt to meddle in the face of I? Naturally, the idea of cat pee on my shoe wasn’t a calming one, so I snapped up the perpetrating kitten from its owner’s hands and threw it as hard as I could. The entire family started bitching and screaming and crying in whatever language Guatemalans speak. The girl who was waving the cat around, starting this predicament in the first place, cried to me in broken English: “What have you done to my kitty?!” Well, shortly a second after she said that, the kitten I threw completed it’s journey around the globe and smacked that bitch in the back of the head. Her teeth exploded out of her mouth with the sharp crack of the impact, and cat hair created a thick cloud of around the bitch. Not sticking around to see how much of her head was left intact, I turned my back on the illegals and continued my trek.

By that time the sun was starting to go down, but that didn’t stop me from wearing my bad ass sunglasses. I decided it was time to get my dick wet, so I went downtown to shop for hookers. the first one I saw fainted at the sight of me. I gave it to that bitch without even touching her, ha. The second one refused to take my money, in turn saying that she would pay ME for sex instead. So I picked her up, threw her over my shoulder, and went in search of a dumpster to fuck behind. I would have done her on spot, but I took a guess from the way she looked and wanted her to be in a comfortable and familiar environment. While rounding the corner, some guido pulled up next to me in a lowrider and started yelling at me. Apparently, the hooker over my shoulder was his girlfriend. He got out of his car and started getting in my face, so I relaxed my grip and dropped his girlfriend on hers. He tried to swing at me, but I tore off both of his legs with my bare hands, and used a ballpoint pen, my own hair, and some barbed wire to sew them back on to their opposite stumps in under a second. He tried to hobble after me, but because his legs were reversed, all he could do was fall over like a pussy. So I drove off in his car, and after winning eight street races that night, I intentionally crashed the lowrider piece of shit into a homeless shelter. The City Council realized how amazing it was that I had the balls to do that, so they commissioned a statue of me where the shelter used to be.