Out of arguing
bar-talk, a voice closes in and twists to demanding. I stand. He is tough.
I do not remember volunteering but an involuntary arm muscle stood up and got
attention. I get a feeling I’m not suppose to show my weakness, something in
past lessons about needing to grow my shorn hair long and lacing up hi-top
sneakers to cover my ankles for protection. Yes, that should do it.
As he barked orders I notice the
scene is done up in tenebrism, to make the watching a controlled devise of
sharp realism revealed from the murk. He lisps off what I needed to do for
inspection.
…leave a bit of food offering to the
tharg from the thupper before on your footlocker, hang your uniform thirt
upside down from the light chain so it is eethy to get into and put the
crucifith in front of the mirror so he can thee the back. Lathly, wear your
underwear inside out, and then
turn it in when he’th left.
Well all of that is okay … accept the displaying the issued
crucifix, it’s just not my thing. I don’t like this show.
“Got a better gore thymbol?”
He goes on downloading the plans of
attack at noon. I ask if wont many
be injured? He looks impatient, adding that we will hit during lunch break.
Then he ignores my obvious question, “We will not then, be on lunch break, too?”
His plastered smirk began to feel wicked and hard like a Cheshire grin. The
voices fade, as though they were exiting through a tunnel … as if his smile could
clear a room.
Hey, you practice Ju-jitsu, don’t
you?
Yes, the art of getting an opponent
off balance, bringing him down, and killing him.
After you put something in motion,
sometimes you have to back away.
Ah...
ReplyDeleteHaha thith made me thmile too.
ReplyDelete