The Day I Did Kill 500 People and a Cow by Weaver

The Day I Did Kill 500 People and a Cow

I was so fucking glad to be done with this week of work. Everyday sucked more than the last, and today was the worst. I was so fired up and only had one thing on my mind, which was to get my ass home and forget the past five days ever happened. I finished my shift, and pretty much snuck out of there to avoid any conversations that would keep me there a second longer. I was so dedicated to leaving, that I ran past the bathroom, even though I had to piss pretty badly. Holiday weekends are always a bitch on the interstate, and I was ready for a tighter ride home. I don’t know where these people are every other day; they just seem to multiply on the Fridays before a long weekend. Assholes are mysterious if you think about it.

I was about to get on the last road before the highway, and there it was, a freaking traffic jam all the way back here, and I knew where it started, too. A 1000% chance of where I had to drive in order to get home. Holy hell, it took me 40 damn minutes to crawl onto the interstate itself, which was nothing but a parking lot full of people pointing in the same direction, really. Moving this slow made my mind wander, and the only thing I could focus on was the fact that I had to piss even worse than when I left. I am usually home by now, so every extra second out here is piling up the rage.

At least some cool trucker guy let me pull in front of him. I gave him a wave that said, “You fucking rock, man,” and he knew he rocked, because I could see it on his face from my rear view mirror. But that was the longest stretch I took at one time for about another hour and a half. I studied the back of the car in front of me. Every time I read the license plate, I wanted to spit on it, as it was an homage to being a hippie; a jumbled mess of letters that read “Flower Power” when spoken aloud at the right pace. How fucking cute, you hypocritical hairy-pitted troll of a woman! I chuckled in disbelief as she would flick the ashes off of her clove cigarette while also polluting the air with her car’s emissions. Oh, honey, do you really want to be the final straw out here on the interstate? Do you? At this point, the pressure of my bladder was biblical, only rivaling in intensity my hatred for humanity.

Then from out of nowhere, this blue piece of shit car was barreling up the side of the road, his car skipping along the rumble strip like a long fart in an empty church. Just another “Right Lane Retard”. There are oceans of them, man. And of course, the car tried to squeeze in between my car and the hairy polluter’s, but I wasn’t having any of that. I shot up a good foot and flashed the car my angry face. The guy driving the blue turd gave one right back at me, the dickhead. And what a puss it was, all crinkled up on the front of the biggest damn head I’ve ever seen. And then it happened. Melon Head flipped me off. And it was on. Big time.

As Melon Head pulled away, continuing up the rumble strip, I got out of my car and ran to the side of the road. I ripped off my pants and whipped it out. And with a blast that could launch a thousand space shuttles, I took aim. ZING! I took out his right rear tire with my laser-piss which could easily cut titanium from across the galaxy at this point. I laughed my ass off as Melon Head’s car flipped over about six times and landed on its roof. Then Melon Head crawled out of his window and stuck that boulder of his out the window and looked at me. “Touché” he really should have thought, but instead all he could do was give me that ugly crinkled puss look again, so I carved the top of his rind off with another shot from my awesome bladder. Blood geysered all over the place and I was sort of happy now.

I wondered if I could piss a hole to China, so to test my theory, I thought of a globe and aimed downward and let loose upon the earth. I knew I was deep, because steam shot up between my legs. All I needed was a guitar and a shitty song about rock n’ roll or some stupid chick with big hair and I would have been in a cock rock video doing a whiny solo, but who needs that?

Anyway, my aim was spot on, as my piss shot through a small village in China and up into the air, which was weird, because I pissed down, but the piss went up eventually, though it did both in the same line. I guess that falls into the “go west to get east” and “three lefts make a right” category. It is all perspective, I guess. As the stream went skyward, it pierced the fuel tank of a 747, which caused it to crash into the Great Wall. Such urinary devastation! I know what I did was cool, because the trucker who let me in blasted his air horn, and that is a badge of honor bestowed upon only the elite. And to let him know that I appreciated his gesture, I gave him an encore by pissing in every swimming pool on the planet. So I suppose that now everyone can come to my place and swim in my toilet. Although I was feeling pretty damn relieved, I still knew the horrible truth; I was still stuck in traffic.

Two hours. Six miles. Finally I could see for myself what the hold up was. A tractor trailer was upturned in the passing lane, which cut the interstate in half at the worst time possible. Everything was bottlenecked at this point, with cops and DOT workers all over the place. This mess should have been cleaned up a long time ago, if it weren’t for the fact that only two DOT workers are allowed to work at the same time. I think that is in some union bylaw or something. None of this shit would have happened if they just did their fucking job when they were supposed to. Then I see two of them hanging out near the pylons set up next to the only open lane of travel. They were having a drink and checking for hot chicks. Someone had to ruin their fun. Want to venture a guess?

I started running over the pylons until the two fools took notice. They were pissed and got all tough with me. I kept my car idling by while I got out and ran towards them. They didn’t know what to do, but I did, so things were cool. I kicked the first moron in the crotch so hard that I sliced him in half. His boyfriend took a swing at me, but I blocked it with my eye, and broke his hand with a swift winking motion. Then I took half of the first guy and nailed the guy with the broken hand into the ground down to his neck. I covered his head with a pylon and then hopped back into my car as it approached. The cops saw nothing and my trucker buddy finished the DOT guy off by running over his pylon/head. I never saw the trucker again, but I’m sure wherever he is, he is doing something awesome.

When I cleared the accident area, I was seriously jacked, because there was nothing but two empty lanes in front of me now. Finally doing about 75 after moving at a snail’s pace for over two hours was a rush. I’d be home in no time, or so I thought. I got a few miles further, and then saw another jam up ahead. I knew that some fool who couldn’t handle their newfound speed lost control or rammed someone. Here we go again. But as luck would have it, the next exit was coming up, right at the ass end of the new traffic jam. I got off of the interstate and decided to take the scenic route through the farms and hills. At least there would be little or no traffic, and that was all I wanted at this point.

My rage meter was about to turn off after slowly navigating the country roads, seeing nothing but fields and trees. As I drifted down a hill and neared a short bridge, I saw yet another obstacle in my way. Some asshole farmer had his tractor parked on the end of the bridge, and he was joined on the road by a cow. Yes, a fucking cow was now in my way. The farmer wasn’t even trying to move the cow, because he was too busy picking up a bunch of potatoes that fell off the back of his tractor. And to top it off, he didn’t even look my way the whole time. Hell, he didn’t give a shit that he was in my way. But I gave a shit that you would need to bust up with the business end of a plunger and pray like hell it would eventually flush.

I stomped my way across the bridge and gave him an ear-full. I told him to get the fuck off the road and to move that cow right now. He said something, but I was so pissed, my ears stopped working. He and his cow were about to have a farming-related accident.

I was so furious and in a zone, that I just looked at him and said, “Die.” So he did, right there in the middle of the road. He dropped all of the potatoes and most of them rolled under the cow. I got right in the cow’s face and asked her what’s up now? All I got was a pissy “Moo”, so I reeled back and that was it. I punched that stupid cow so hard that it rained hamburgers and French fries in Norway, and two baseball gloves and a leather jacket in Denmark. The jacket fell right onto this nerdy kid who read science fiction books and collected stamps. As the jacket slid onto his body, he became really cool all at once. He got laid right there on the spot, started smoking and bought a van. He’s still doing okay from what I hear, but I was kind of bummed out because I was initially aiming for Finland.

Sweet victory! I was now thirty seconds from home, and all I had to do was turn left at the light and that was that. I almost shed a tear. I saw a nice open space of oncoming traffic coming my way for me to easily make the turn and soon be on the couch with a beer. The moment I pressed on the gas pedal, this complete douche on a racing bike, which I didn’t see at first, started peddling like a maniac, seemingly trying to cut me off and beat me to this part of the road. I backed off and stopped my leftward progress. And at the last moment, I slid my car a bit closer to him and clothes-lined his head off. He was peddling so fast that his headless body kept on peddling down the road, into the sunset.