When the people were finished eating t got up from the table pulled a pistol out of his pocket, aimed, and shot the picture of his grandfather off the wall. the people cried. they screamed at t for him to put the pistol away, give them the gun it's okay. t knew it was okay because he had the gun. he took aim again this time striking the dog in the back of it's head. the dog fell flat for a second then shook like electricity had just been run through it, it's eyes rolled back in it's head and the blood spraying his father as it shook and all then fell limp. his father cried: my god son! please put the gun down! give it to me it's okay. please! t started to hyperventilate and thought to himself in a split second slow motion like my god what did I just do! i shot little snookums. i shot grandaddy on the wall! i have lost it i am losing it dad is screaming i can't hear him he is mad don't hit me dad i'll shoot you please dad and with that put a bullet through his old man's face and t watched as his father reached out and then slid his bloody face down t's chest and then hit the floor in a thud. t started seeing things in warp now. his father lay at his feet deader than driftwood washed up on the shore and blood pooling blackish red and mom just won't stop crying and i can't believ i just shot snookums and my pop and i should have waited until i had dessert and coffee.
the next day t went to the movies with his old man. they sat in the balcony with all the low life immigrants and women because t said he didn't bring his glasses and wanted to get the correct length from the screen so that his retina and lens and all will not have to strain too much. his father did not mind. he had seen the movie already and wanted his son to feel as comfortable as possible during it's play. it was a western. t couldn't believe they still made westerns! and look at all these people here to watch a western! who would have thought this many people would be interested in a western! look father! lean over the rail a bit and look at all the people! there must be a thousand people in this theater! his father leaned over the rail and just then t grabbed the back of his father's trousers and lifted him over the balcony rail. his father held on for a moment. son! what are you doing help! a man from the seat next to t reached and tried to grab for t's father who was hanging from the fake brass railing and t kicked the guy in the nuts and then stomped on his father's hand sending him tumbling onto the people below his body twisted and his leg snapped into an angle that reminded t of a kicker in the nfl from a 60's football card and he thought this was funny and laughed out loud. |
