I walk up to deliver the paper, normally I would have just thrown it to the door, but this asshole insist that I place it between the screen door and door. The screen door by the way has no screen, what’s the point? Are flies going to fly up to the screen less door and be fooled by the frame, I don’t think so. As I place the paper in the door I gasp! The thoughtless bastard who lives here has not read his paper! He does not even have the fucking common courtesy to remove the paper and put it inside. Does he realize what I go through to ensure that he gets his fucking paper? Does he know that I am up at four am, rolling, packing, banding and placing these damn papers into my sack to wrap onto my bike and haul all over town delivering. Does he know of the important things MY paper contains. Does he not realize that I am the paper boy and I am a GOD? Well he will, birds swim, dogs run, cats fly and the short fat round headed bastard will suffer the wrath of the paperboy.
I am sitting in the park, on a park bench covered in bird shit, and enjoying slow death from smoking one tightly rolled cigar at a time. A duck comes up and asks "have you got any spare bread?" Wow a talking duck! "Cut the dramatics, have you got any fucking bread or not." Well, I tell him you don’t have to be rude! "You’re the asshole sitting in the park and don’t have any bread!" chides the duck. I am the paperboy and I am a GOD, I have no bread, so leave me be! "Fuck You, you Freak!" screams the duck and he swims away. A talking duck, and he calls ME the freak. What a crazy Duck!
Time to deliver the paper to the thoughtless bastard whose papers are piling up in his screen less door. I walk up and peer between the doors; the ever-growing pile of priceless media is sitting there. I add to the pile todays wisdom, on the cover is a story of a man who was short a condom and in the interim used a patch of saran wrap and some duct tape. The saran wrap proved not to be a suitable replacement for a condom, his mistress gets pregnant and now the guys wife is suing the Saran wrap and duct tape companies. What the fuck is the world thinking, this dumb ass was too stupid to take his ass to the drugstore for a condom and now he feels someone owes him for his stupidity. Knowing this fucked up legal system he will probably win and the price of a condom will sky-rocket. Not that the paperboy who is a GOD requires condoms, his seed is to valuable to be deposited in any man made material, but the thought of a stupid person suing and receiving money for his stupidity , really pisses the paperboy who is a GOD off.
I head to the park again, the only place of peace in this crazy world. Larry is sitting there, Larry is the local homeless man, no job, no worries, and pants that are made from duct tape and what ever else is lying around, I have never talked to him so I think why not, I am the paperboy and I am a GOD. Larry is wearing his duct tape pants, I wonder if he is going to get in on the lawsuit? Hey Larry how is it going? "K" he replies. Since I figure we don’t know each other I would wait to see if he strikes up a conversation, after an hour he speaks. "Have you met the duck?" I play stupid, to see if we are talking about the same duck. What Duck, I reply. "You know that rude little fucker that comes over and begs for bread. I reply yeah I have met him and agree that the duck is rude. "You know that duck offered to blow me for some bread one day" says Larry. Really, what did you do? "Well I thought about it for a while, but you how long it take get these pants off, the tape sticks to my hairy legs and the thought of ripping the hair off my legs for a blow job from a duck was not that appealing." "Plus I think the duck is a queer." Well that sounded logical to me and I agreed that if you are going to be blown by a duck it should be a female duck, a man must have some morals. Larry and I spent the afternoon together, we talked, we laughed, we smoked, but the duck never appeared to us that day.
I skipped delivering the paper to the round head fuck who has not been reading his papers, perhaps the day off will prompt him to read his damn papers. Again off to the park. I look for Larry, he is not there, so I grab a bench and smoke. The rude talking duck approaches me. This time I am first to speak. "“You know Larry says that you are a queer duck and you offered to blow him for some bread." "Larry is a fucking nut!" the duck replies,"where does he get off calling me a queer. Just cause a duck offers head for food that automatically makes him a queer? When a dog humps another male dog, you would say look at that crazy dog, he can’t help himself. But a starving duck is another story, Fuck Larry and Fuck You!" Whoa, take it easy buddy I was just telling you what he said, is it true, you offered to blow him for bread? "Well yeah, what is your point?" Well does that offer apply to anyone with some bread? The duck thinks a minute and then replies well yeah, you got any bread? No I was just curious about the offer and agree with Larry you are a Queer! I replied. "You are a dick!" the duck quacks and waddles off. What a fucking screwy Duck.
Another day delivering the paper. I am the paper boy and I am a GOD. I am heading to the round headed dude to deliver his paper. A squirrel runs out in front of me. I think about swerving, but then at the last minute decide, fuck it, the squirrel is mine. I aim for him and I am rewarded with a satisfying pop and crunch! I stop my bike and the squirrel is trying to claw his way across the street, blood shit and entrails have been squeezed out his ass. Apparently my bike tire did not kill him but only broke his back. I squat down, “you dumb ass squirrel, you should have gotten out of my way, now look at you.” Of course the squirrel does not reply, what, you think I am fucking Doctor Doolittle? None talk to me except that crazy duck. As I look at the squirrel I think about fixing him, I am the paper boy and I am a GOD, I could lay my hands on him, utter a phase and cure him. But I think about what this squirrel does all day, collect nuts, build a nest, sleep, eat, shit and start all over each and every day. Sort of like me with these damn papers, the more I look at him the more he starts to look like the thoughtless bastard on the corner not reading his papers. The squirrel looks at me pleading and clawing with his front legs, his back legs are useless limbs thanks to my bike tire. I raise my foot high and slam it down on him, flattening him, while picturing the round headed dude. Snap, Crackle, Pop, and the squirrel struggles no more …it is done… I am the paperboy and I am a GOD. GODs give life and they taketh life, in this case the GOD has taken, it is decided, if the rounded guy on the corner does not read his paper I will torture and kill him just like his friend the squirrel.
I struggle to lift the weight, my arms burn, the blood in my veins pumping loudly, sweat pouring down my lean body, what a feeling of power. I scream and complete the rep. Pumping iron is a must for a GOD, all knowing all powerful, a GODs body must be hard strong and ready for action at all times. I grab the curling bar and add another 25 pound plate on each end pushing the total to 145 pounds. 7…8….9……ARRRHH 10, the last set of curls done. I grab a towel to wipe the sweat from my hard and lean body examining the fruit of my labors in the mirror. Not Arnold but one bad mother fucker looking back at me in the mirror. Well time to deliver the fucking papers. I wrap, band and bag the papers for today’s run, I have to use the bags, raining outside and the customers bitch when the paper is soggy. Of course the fact that I aim for the puddles doesn’t help much
I arrive at the round headed dudes house and walk up to the door, I am hoping this round headed fucker has taken his paper, this will save his pitiful life, I would allow him to live if the papers are gone. I peek between the doors, fuck, they are all there, a weeks worth of papers. What would cause a person to not read his paper for an entire week? Perhaps the loser sucked on the business end of a double barreled shotgun. Perhaps he is in the house laying naked, bloated, decaying in a pile of his own shit and piss, pieces of brain and skull splattered on the bathroom wall. A pitiful goodbye note written to someone who he thought would give a fuck if he left world in a violent manner. I walk around the house looking for an open window, any orifice that I can peer through to see if there is a decomposing body laying in the house. All windows are tightly shut, I lay down by the front door and sniff the crack. Nada, not a whiff of death, just my luck, the fucker is still alive. Now I have to plan a death for this thoughtless fuck, I am the Paperboy and I am a GOD, the round headed dude will die.
The round headed dude pleads for his life. “Please paperboy, don’t kill me!” I cock the double barreled shotgun and thrust the barrel into his mouth busting his front teeth. Blood and snot runs down his ugly face. “POUGH DON KEEL MEE” the round headed guy mumbles, however talking with your mouth full has never been polite and it is hard as hell to understand what the person is saying. I remove the shot gun from his mouth, what were trying to say you thoughtless fuck? “Please don’ kill me, I will learn to read.” I smash his whining ass in the nose with the butt of the shotgun splitting his nose, blood gushes down his face. The piece of shit passes out, I heat a bowl of water in the ole microwave (got to love the convenience of a microwave) ding, two minutes on high and the water is boiling. Tossing the boiling water on the round headed dudes face he wakes screaming. Now that I have his attention, I thrust the shot gun into his mouth, “I am the paperboy I am a GOD!”, I scream, as I squeeze the trigger, click, nothing. He jerks and screams, “Fuck You, Fuck you paperboy, go ahead you bitch, pull that fucking trigger.” I am actually impressed that he has a little fucking dignity before he is going to die. “That was foreplay bitch”, I load two shells into the chambers, “this is the real fucking”, I jerk the trigger, blood, brains, and pieces of skull decorate the wall behind him, his body jerks violently backwards. I am the paper boy and I am a GOD!, I scream. I awake hard, excited, and erect, dreams of violence always excite me, and never one to waste anything, especially morning wood (save all the trees) I massage my GODHOOD to a creamy finale. Spilling my GOD seed in a wasteful pile, but there is always plenty, I am the paperboy and I am a GOD!
While the dream of killing the round headed dude was awesome, reality was that even the paperboy could be caged in jail. The thought of being someone’s bitch in jail was kind of arousing, however, the thought of having to sit in a cage and not being able to deliver the papers was not.. I must find a way to get rid of him with out implicating myself. I head to the park to seek out Larry and the duck. Larry is being serviced by the duck, I politely wait till Larry is finished, a grunt , a swallowing gurgle, and the sound of new duct tape being torn from his roll to mend the fly on his home-made trousers, is my signal that it is okay to approach. :Hey guys, I need some help, I give them the whole spiel on the round headed dude and how he must be dealt with.
We sit there staring at each other and thinking of a plan. The duck and I enjoy a cigar, the duck is chewing the fuck out of the end of the cigar, but since it is his cigar and I am just sharing I don't stay anything. The duck said he serviced some dude for food and the guy gave him the cigar instead, some ducks have all the luck. After an hour or so, the duck quacks, I have an idea. He tells us the plan, we all look at each other and nod, I think it might work.
I approach Larry and the Duck, they are in the park, whispering and pointing at me as I walk up. “What’s up guys”, I ask. “You are motherfucker!” Larry replies, he smiles at me, Saliva drips from his eye teeth as they elongate into fangs. His eyes turn red and snake like, he looks at the duck and then at me, “lets get him!” Larry screams. I turn and run, my legs are pumping, but I am going very slow, my lungs burn for oxygen. I try to increase my pace, however it is like I am running in sand. I turn to see if they are still behind me, as Larry is running, large leathery wings spring from his back and extend. I am startled to see that even his damn wings have patches of duct tape on them. He takes to the air, wings swooping through the air. I pump my legs even harder, I am starting to make progress now, my heart is racing in my chest. Sweat is pouring down my back into the crack of my ass, giving me that oily ass feeling, but with the Vampirish Larry hot on my trail I really don’t give a fuck. I run towards the tunnel, hoping that Larry and his duct taped wings will not be able to follow. I lunge for the entrance, Larry lands in front of me, he grabs me by my shoulders with a painful grasp, his jaws wide open, saliva and blood dripping from his jaws, the smell of rotten flesh, decay and sour duck reaks from his gaping hole. He sinks his jaws into my neck I scream…
I waken in a cold sweat, my sheets are soaked with sweat, urine and semen, the smell of fear and my bodily fluids violate my nostrils. It was a dream, thank THE GOD is was dream. Or was it a premonition, sometimes the Paperboy who is a god has dreams of the future. Nah, that dream was way too fucked up to be real. I climb out of bed and grab the weights, since my body is already pumping from the dream might as well use the adrenaline. After my workout my body is taunt again, no fucking vampires will dare mess with a bad mother fucker like the paperboy.
I start my route and head to the round headed dudes house. I am hoping that the papers are gone and I can finally finish this business with him. I arrive and see that the paper are not only still there, but there is a foot print on the pile. The fucker stepped on my holy documents. My anger flares, I control it, know is not the time for an outburst, his time will come soon. As I turn to leave I notice the old bitch across the street looking out her window again, she is getting a little too nosy for her own good, she might have to feel the wrath of the paperboy who is a god. Perhaps I might violate her with my GodHood, nah, that old crusty pussy is not worthy of my seed, I would rather waste it on the soil than that old bat.
I finish my route and head to the park, Larry and the duck are there, whispering and pointing. Oh shit, just like in the dream, but this is reality, I don’t care of Larry is a fucking vampire, I am the Paperboy and I am A God, I will break his fucking wings in half. I approach them, they are discussing the daily headlines, and not conspiring to do me in. “Guys today is the day, today we execute our plan and get rid of the round headed dude.Because I am the Paperboy and I am a God!” I scream.
Our plan is simple, Larry and the duck will go to the round headed dudes house and wait for him to come out to go to work. The duck will distract him, Larry will abduct him, and take him to the tunnel.
The duck is waiting by the dudes truck, Larry is camping on the corner, doing his homeless thing. The Rounded headed dude comes out of his house, he is whistling and carrying his thermos of coffee. Probably some flavored bullshit that these Generation Xers are always drinking. Nobody drinks plain old coffee anymore. The duck waddles up, “have you got any bread, I am really hungry.” “Wow a talking duck”, replies the round headed dude, the duck starts up a conversation.
Larry sneaks up behind him, tape in hand (do I need to tell you what type of tape?) he grabs the guy in a sleeper hold. The rounded dude tries to struggle, but Larry is much too strong, he had a BK Breakfast meal and his energy is up today. The man passes out, Larry binds the mans hand and feet with the tape, tapes his mouth shut and tosses him in the back of the truck. He grabs the duck and fires up the truck. He pauses, “what is the matter” asks the duck. “ I don’t know how to drive” states Larry. “You are fucking worthless” exclaims the duck. “See that long skinny peddle, that is the Gas, the one on the left is the brake.” “Press the skinny one to go and the fat one to stop.” Larry presses the skinny peddle, the engine revs up to about eight grand, “why aren’t we moving” Larry yells over the engine noise. “You have to put it in gear” yells the duck. “How do you do that” asks Larry, the duck jumps up grabs the selector in his beak and drops the truck in gear. The tires squeal and leave a patch of rubber down the street. As they drive to the tunnel.
The old lady is watching from her window, and sees the whole show, “boy that dirty man with the taped pants is sure stupid” I wonder what they are going to do to poor frank”, she asks her self. I better call 911 and report it. She dials 911 on the old speed dial, now most people would not put 911 on the speed dial since it takes two key presses to dial a saved number, but she is frugal, waste not want not, a key saved is a key earned. The operator comes on “911 what is the emergency” she pauses, “They will never believe this, I will have to take care of this myself.” The old woman mumbles to her self. “Hello, is there an emergency?” “No I am sorry I pressed the wrong speed dial key”, she says in a hurry as she hangs up the phone. The old woman fires up her trusty old Dodge Dart and enters the chase.
Larry and duck arrive, the duck is screaming for Larry to stop the truck before he kills them both. “We have him Paperboy, just like you planned.” Says Larry. Larry lifts the man out of the back of the truck and lays him face down over a chair, he removes the round headed dudes pants and tapes his hands to the front legs of the chair and his feet to the other legs. He starts to unravel his taped pants. “What are you doing” I ask. “You think I helped you for free, the duck is okay for sex but I want some real flesh!” replies Larry. “Very well, but make it quick I want to torture and kill this fucker before anybody misses him.”
Larry removes his pants, the tapes makes a tearing sound as his hair is ripped from this legs and crotch. Larry is too excited to let the pain bother him. He strokes his engorged member and slicks it up with some spit. He walks over to the taped prey and enters the victim. The round headed dudes eyes open, he tries to scream but the tape muffles his cries. Larry is pumping away mumbling “I am the Gimp” and “Zeds dead baby, Zeds Dead!” I think he has watched “Pulp Fiction too many times.
Larry grunts and releases his load into the mans ass. It drips down the chair and forms a pool of blood, shit and semen on the floor. Plenty of DNA for the cops to find. The Ducks starts quacking, “me next”. He tries to mount the man, but keeps falling off, no hands to hold on with. He jumps on again, this time biting the man in the back to hang on. The duck pumps furiously. The round headed dude is screaming again, I think it is more the pain in his back from the ducks bite than the little duck dick in his ass. The Duck quacks and adds his fluid to the pool in the mans anus and on the floor. Larry and the duck fire up a cigar, sit back fully satisfied.
I remove the tape from the mans mouth. “Who are you people?” he cries. “I am the Paperboy and I am a god” I reply. “What do you want?” he asks. “What is your name for starters” I ask him. “Frank” he replies. “Well frank, you have neglected to read the holy documents that I daily leave on your door, for this you must suffer my wrath.” He starts to make some bullshit excuse about being on vacation ands forgetting to let the paper know. I retape his mouth, the paperboy who is a God has no time for such bullshit.
I grab my blowtorch and knitting needle. I heat the knitting needle till it is white hot. I approach frank. I can see the fear in his eyes, he knows that I am a powerful god and that he is going to be punished. I push the tip of the needle into his eye, he tries to stop me by shutting his eyelid, but the needle sears right through the lid and into his eye. It makes a hissing sound as the lens is melted and his eye runs down his face a thick snot like goo. The smell of burning flesh is not that unpleasant. I finish the other eye and look at his face, his black eyeless sockets stare at me. It is amazing how much feeling is portrayed in the eyes, for without his eyes I cannot see what he is thinking or feeling. Without his eyes he is not a human, just a crying thing. I decide to finish it, I grab my double barreled shotgun. The shot gun my daddy gave to me and that I killed him with in a “Hunting Accident”, the Paperboy who is a god has no time or need for parents.
I put the barrel of the shot gun to his eyeless socket, “time to say goodbye you worth less fuck.” I whisper in his ear. “Blam”, Larry’s head explodes, brain fragments splatter against the stone wall. what the fuck, I had not pulled the trigger. “Hold it right there paperboy”, screamed the old women who lives across the street from frank. “She had shot Larry in the head, Larry’s brain fragments, blood and half smoked Cigar lie on the floor. She had her foot on the ducks neck, the duck struggling to free himself. She applied the full pressure of her old body and snapped the ducks neck with a loud pop.
“There now its just the three of us” she replied, “you okay Frank?” she asked. “ugh mfg thee xhjer” frank replied, of course with the tape across his mouth she could not understand a word he said. “Don’t worry hun, I am here and will take care of the paperboy, but after you will owe be a BIG favor.” “Now drop that gun, or I will blast you!” She screamed at me. I dropped the gun on the floor, I am the paperboy and I am a God, I have no need of a weapon to fight an old bitch like this. “You fucked with the wrong paperboy, you old bitch, I am the paper boy and I am a god!” The old lady looked scared, then she looked pissed, she squeezed the trigger of the shotgun.
My chest exploded in a flash of red dripping meat, I fell backwards in shock, “but… I am the paperboy and I am a god…” I tried to draw in air, what was left of my lungs rebelled and would not provide me with what my body needed to live. I looked down and below my torn chest my cock was erect. Even in this state, I am aroused by violence. The old woman sees my erect GodHood “well what have we got here” she says are she lowers her old lady drawers, she removes my pants and squats on my member. I try to fight her, “no you are not worthy of my seed.” I cry. “Shut up boy, you think I am going to waste a perfectly good hard-on.?” she says as she continues thrusting her self on my GodHood. I close my eyes, “I am the PaperBoy and I am a GOD!” My GodHood releases, as I die.
“No you were just a fucked up kid that needed professional help.”. replies the old woman as she raises herself off the dead paperboy’s withering godhood. She wipes her old wrinkled thighs with the paperboys pants, trying to remove what stolen semen did not remain inside her.
She untapes frank and leads the naked eyeless, crying, violated man to his truck, she grabs the lifeless duck and throws it in the back, she fires up the truck and drives off. She looks towards frank as they travel home, “Now frank, about that BIG favor you owe me” she states as she eyes his naked lower half.