It was like any other friday, I took off my old, worn coat and hung it in the closet. I then walked down the hallway and dropped my small black suitcase, it landed with a tunk ratteling the contents of the inside. Then I took off my leather gloves and dropped them into the bathroom sink for they were rather wet and with a splat they stained the sink with a light reddish color. I then made my way towards the kitchen looking for aquick snack. I found a bucket of fried chicken which I heated up along with a chocolate turnover for i thought to myself I had earned a sweet treat. The night was still and as I watched Futurama the only thing bothering me was a distinct thunk, thunk, thunk coming from my car in the garage. I ignored it since I'd sooner get to it. As the show played on I remembered the little teenage snot who talked trash, spat or rubbed pubic hairs into my sandwhich. I consider myself a pacifist after all I am the way I am, is there anything really wrong with what I've done?Anyhow the boy would soon get his, how I loathe him. And when I hear his cries and screams for mercy echoing through my basement he shall recieve none and shall decorate the walls like all the others! But for now I sit and enjoy an epsiode of Futurama drowning out the screams and thunks of the boy trapped in the trunk of my car along with the deceased body of his girlfriend... it's like music to my ears, I let out a slight chuckle "Tonight's going to be fun." I said softly stroking a six inch blade.