Bloor’s Big Day (723 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.61 on 35 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Jack McCallum (View user info) at 2006-06-27 18:03:12 EDT
Bloor knew his wife was fucking the man in the yellow tie, he just knew it.
He watched them, standing close, too close for boss and assistant, that was for sure. Their shoulders brushed as they greeted people and shook hands and waved.
"How could you?" Bloor whispered. "How could you do that to us?"
He looked through the scope and let the weight of the Winchester 70 rest on the dusty three foot wall surrounding the rooftop. Bloor had been waiting here for hours now. He was a patient guy. Sitting and waiting was easy.
Below him was a city street, quiet on a Sunday morning. Beyond the street was a small park, reserved for a picnic.
Now the people who had made Lever, Tatovsky & Stein one of the most successful law firms in town were gathering down there, in the sunshine, on the green.
"A fucking Jew, too," Bloor said. "She's fucking another guy, and he's a lawyer, and a goddamned Jew."
It was a fucking Jew lawyer who had seen to it that Bloor only claimed a fraction of the disability income he had been entitled to. Hell, it was a fucking Jew lawyer who had first convinced Bloor to sign a waiver right after his accident.
Bloor lowered the rifle, and slid five rounds into the magazine, each swallowed by the Winchester with a satisfying little snick of sound.
Don't take it out on the company that treated you so well, the Jew had said. Don't take it out on your buddies in the union. Sign this waiver and you'll still get full disability from the State and the Feds. You can retire right now. That money is guaranteed.
Bloor raised the weapon again and peered through the scope. Melody was wearing yellow as well. Pale lemon, a nice color on her. The Jew's tie was a waxy and jaundiced yellow, like a ropy organ yanked out of a bloated animal carcass and wrapped around his neck. He was dark and hadn't shaved. What was the word his dad had always used?
"Swarthy," Bloor said aloud. "That fucker is swarthy."
And beside the Jew was Bloor's wife. Melody was pale and blonde and whenever the breeze moving through the park lifted her yellow dress a little or pressed the lightweight cotton against her hips or her breasts Bloor's heart raced, and then he'd see the truth through the scope, seeing the way the Jew lawyer's fat hands would brush against Melody's hips and ass, and when he raised the scope he saw dark little eyes looking down his wife's dress, looking at tits that were still pale and near perfect after all these years.
"They belong to me," Bloor said, realizing that it had been over a year since he'd touched anything other than one of Melody's hands.
He thought of the second or third time he and Melody had ever fucked, almost a year before they got married.
She had been holding his dick and had asked him if he had ever considered getting circumcised.
Bloor had laughed and made some crack, 'why, is it too much for you, babe?' something like that, and she had let go of his prick with a look on her face like he disgusted her.
Of course, a week later she was horny again and as happy as an about to be stuffed clam while grabbing the damned thing and skinning it back and sucking on it like a Bloor-flavored Tootsie Pop.
Now Bloor wondered if she'd wanted to taste some Jew cock way back then, or if she already had.
More and more people were arriving at the park. The firm was into all the new diversity bullshit, and since diversity meant 'anything but white' there were a shitload of dark faces down there, of every shade and hue imaginable.
Melody had invited him to this bullshit picnic but he had said fuck that. They would all just laugh at him or stare at him uncomfortably. And now that he had gotten a good look at her coworkers, he was glad he had turned her down.
"Fucking dirty," Bloor said. He realized that he sounded just like his father.
Bloor had hated his father. The old man had been a freak, almost a caricature of a white racist. He had always gone on and on about the niggers (they want our women) and the wetbacks (they want our jobs) and the Jews who were constantly finagling their way into positions of power and control. The old man had been gone for years now. Shot dead in a car-jacking.
The papers had described the young assailants as 'disenfranchised minorities' and 'troubled, inner-city youths.'
'Niggers' would have taken up a lot less space on the printed page.
Working the bolt action on the Winchester, Bloor realized that the old man had been almost right. The blacks and the Mexicans were screwed from the start by the color of their skin, but the Jews... the fucking Jews.
They looked white, most of them. And they stole jobs. And they wanted white women. They were the absolute pinnacle of what was wrong with America today, and it was time someone, anyone, started putting things right.
Bloor figured he could kill two birds with one stone. Start at the top by killing a Jew, and pay this particular kike back for stealing his wife, and his job.
Sure, Hiram Sheenie or whatever the fuck his name was down there didn't actually fuck him over, but they were all related, weren't they?
"They had to be related," Bloor said. "Didn't they? I mean, the fucking Nazis only left so many of them standing, right? So the Jews that are left are all as tight as shit, either cousins or schoolmates or some fucking thing."
Bloor let the barrel of the rifle wander a moment, and then held it steady. He took a deep breath.
"Anyway," Bloor whispered. "He's fucking my wife."
He exhaled slowly, squeezing the trigger with a touch so gentle, a touch his wife would have sworn he was incapable of, a touch so light it was almost pure thought, pure emotion.
The first shot blew through the Jew lawyer's diaphragm, and the fucker fell to his knees, sucking air.
Somebody let out a scream.
Bloom had intended to blow the bastard's heart apart, but the Jew had moved. Just a little.
"That's for fucking my wife," Bloom said.
Melody looked down. Her lips formed a word.
Honey?
Bloom pursed his lips and worked another bolt into the chamber of the rifle. The expended brass rang as it struck old concrete.
No one in the park connected the distant bang with the Jew's problem. They were concerned, but not running for cover like they should be.
Bloor was about to fix that.
The second shot was a work of art. The Jew looked up just at the right moment, and Bloor put a bullet through the fucker's left eye. A red wash spattered the grass behind the Jew and people screamed.
"That's for fucking with me," Bloor said.
There were more screams now, and people began running, some pointing up at the high buildings across the street, some just running full tilt for the cover of the trees.
Bloor thought that the explosion of blood and shredded gray matter had come out of the Jew's head with such force it looked like the Jew's skull had been shitting its brains out. The thought struck him as hilarious and he started to laugh, lowering the rifle.
Yellow fluttered in the corner of his eye like the wings of a butterfly.
Melody was dancing around the Jew, screaming. She was wearing little yellow shoes that matched her dress.
Bloor raised the rifle and peered through the scope.
The blood spatter on her yellow dress was vivid in close up, and as she danced around the Jew's shattered head blood-stained blades of grass added color to her shoes like little paint brushes. A dot here, a dab there. Soon enough, shoes and dress matched again.
Some Mandingo-looking motherfucker in a skin-tight white tee-shirt near to busting with corporate gym muscle stepped up and took his wife's hand and Melody fell into his arms.
Bloor worked the bolt action, telling himself to remain calm, trying to focus on the images in the scope and ignore the images in his head that showed him a naked Melody having a grand old time as she put her mouth on the Jew's cut and styled cock while Mandingo prepared to ream her from behind with a dingus that was, as far as Bloor was concerned, final proof that niggers were animals just like dear old dad said, because the thing in the his black hands was so inhuman in its length and girth that once it was rammed in to the hilt it would either burst Melody's internal organs, or simply push them aside before blowing out the top of her head.
They were almost hidden by the trees when Bloor fired. A dark flap of the nigger's throat hung down and his shirt was instantly drenched with blood. He fell, and Melody ran.
She ran back toward the Jew.
Bloor picked off a slow-moving Chinaman and some Indian broad so proud of her heritage that she was wearing a tight sari, so she couldn't run worth shit.
Five more rounds went into the magazine.
Another guy who looked Jewish enough to eat a bullet peeked out from behind a tree at the wrong time, yelling into a cell phone. A bullet went in one side of his head and out the other, shattering his hand and the phone it was holding.
A huge and fat black broad waddled out from behind one tree and headed for the cover of a cluster of trees.
"She probably got that job under the huge and fat disabilities act," Bloor said.
He shot her, upper body. She kept moving.
Thinking the damned bullet was trapped in one of her folds, Bloor fired again, putting the second bullet in her head. When she hit the ground he could have sworn he felt the impact.
Another Asian guy, a much younger one, made a run for deep cover. Bloor fired. The bullet ripped across the kid's abdomen, shredding shirt and skin. His belly practically unzipped, and a neat little bundle of guts spilled out and flopped around until the kid hit the grass.
A black and white came to a stop in front of the building next door, and Bloor figured he had time to get off one more shot.
He let the scope wander until it found Melody, crying over the dead Jew.
"Fuck, baby," Bloor said. He put a bullet between her beautiful tits and took his eye away from the scope, not wanting to see any more.
He heard more sirens, more cars pulling up.
He bent over and down as best he could, gathering spent brass. He took a moment to break down the gun, and then leaned over the little wall again, looking down at the park.
When two uniforms kicked open the door to the roof and advanced on him with weapons drawn, demanding he lay flat on the ground, Bloor slowly turned his wheelchair around and raised his hands.
"Somebody's shooting people," Bloor said, his voice breathless and querulous. "Over on that roof over there!"
One of the cops stepped closer, looking at the blanket covering Bloor's legs.
"Daddy," a young voice called out, "Is it safe?"
"The police are here," Bloor said.
The cops moved aside as a young boy ran across the roof and embraced the old man.
"Did they catch him?" The boy glanced at the roof Bloor had indicated a moment earlier. "Did they get that shooting man?"
The cops looked to their left.
"Someone will be back for a statement," one of them said. "Stay put."
When they were gone, Bloor pulled off the blanket and handed the broken weapon to the boy.
"Let's roll," he said, spinning the wheels of the wheelchair across the top level of the silent parking garage and heading for his van.
The boy ran ahead, pulling open the side door and lowering the hydraulic lift.
"Did you get that guy that took mom away from us?"
"I got 'em," Bloor said, rolling onto the lift.
"I'm glad," the boy said. "I didn't like that guy. He stole mom. He was a stealer."
"That's right," Bloor replied. "They're all stealers."
The boy gave Bloor a questioning look. "Who's all stealers?"
"The Jews," Bloor said, pushing a button and starting the lift. "Get in the car. Once we're on the road, I'll tell you all about them."
User Reviews
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2006-07-05 15:31:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2006-06-27 21:31:49 (#)
Ranking: 0
Can't do that. I have too many fans in this forum that will ruin it for everyone. Mostly, for me.
The mystery has to live on.
--
Holy FUCK.
I missed this.
The only mystery is this: Exactly how deep is the bullshit well that Shlongy dips into every day?
Submitted by Skatch (user info) at 2006-06-28 10:32:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
wow
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2006-06-28 07:54:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Shut the fuck up, jeanneee or I'll cut off your supply of oats.
Submitted by ThoreauMe (user info) at 2006-06-28 00:58:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-06-27 21:36:12 (#)
Ranking: 2
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Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2006-06-27 21:31:49 (#)
Ranking: 0
Can't do that. I have too many fans in this forum that will ruin it for everyone. Mostly, for me.
The mystery has to live on.
++++++++++
How chliche'. . .
Learn to spell 'cliche' dipshit fucktard asswipe.
Hey! I'm Bubba's alter!
Submitted by ThoreauMe (user info) at 2006-06-28 00:54:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
But didn't buy the cops leaving a guy on a rooftop after a sniper shooting, even if he is in a wheelchair.
But you probably meant to make one of the cops Bubba and he needed to get to the donut shop for an apple fritter.
My bad.
Submitted by joedaddy (user info) at 2006-06-27 23:26:14 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
e z pickens
Submitted by Benny (user info) at 2006-06-27 23:12:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Very dark but in an ever so humourous way.
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2006-06-27 22:14:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Fucking Excellent...
Submitted by Jeanneee (user info) at 2006-06-27 21:39:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
stop lying Jeff
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-06-27 21:36:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
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Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2006-06-27 21:31:49 (#)
Ranking: 0
Can't do that. I have too many fans in this forum that will ruin it for everyone. Mostly, for me.
The mystery has to live on.
++++++++++
How chliche'. . .
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2006-06-27 21:31:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Can't do that. I have too many fans in this forum that will ruin it for everyone. Mostly, for me.
The mystery has to live on.
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-06-27 21:24:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2006-06-27 21:20:34 (#)
Ranking: -2
Bubba- Don't lump me in with the stalking teenaged zitboy...
I like a lot of Jack's stuff; Just not THIS one.
========
OK, YOUNG man, you say you post on pulsehead, just gimme a name. I want to see
REAL work in the literary field, as opposed to assholish slam-dunking.
If you are as good as you say you are, I will rate accordingly.
THIS post was excellent!!
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2006-06-27 21:20:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Bubba- Don't lump me in with the stalking teenaged zitboy...
I like a lot of Jack's stuff; Just not THIS one.
Submitted by tacosupreem (user info) at 2006-06-27 21:16:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
gay X 4 million
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-06-27 21:14:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by ThoreauMe (user info) at 2006-06-27 21:11:51 (#)
Ranking: 1
Very nice.
But didn't buy the cops leaving a guy on a rooftop after a sniper shooting, even if he is in a wheelchair.
Didn't think the child sounded credible, either.
Up until then, I really liked it.
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Submitted by professorfuckface (user info) at 2006-06-27 20:53:33 (#)
Ranking: 0
Shlongy your whole life is boring you need it to be spiced up a little bit, have some spontaneity added, random occurances
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Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2006-06-27 20:47:18 (#)
Ranking: 0
This post was a little too boring for my taste. And long.
++++++++++++++++++
Once again, the GHEY trio fucks up something good. Dipshits.
Submitted by firefly (user info) at 2006-06-27 21:12:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by ThoreauMe (user info) at 2006-06-27 21:11:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Very nice.
But didn't buy the cops leaving a guy on a rooftop after a sniper shooting, even if he is in a wheelchair.
Didn't think the child sounded credible, either.
Up until then, I really liked it.
Submitted by professorfuckface (user info) at 2006-06-27 20:53:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Shlongy your whole life is boring you need it to be spiced up a little bit, have some spontaneity added, random occurances
Submitted by Shlongy (user info) at 2006-06-27 20:47:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
This post was a little too boring for my taste. And long.
Submitted by professorfuckface (user info) at 2006-06-27 20:41:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
this post was a little too racist for my taste
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2006-06-27 19:59:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by awesome_face (user info) at 2006-06-27 18:40:27 (#)
Ranking: 2
Jack you need to stop writing on Ubersite. Seriously sit down and work on a novel or something.
=============
MITU needs a sequel.
Submitted by darko (user info) at 2006-06-27 19:47:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by awesome_face (user info) at 2006-06-27 18:40:27 (#)
Ranking: 2
Jack you need to stop writing on Ubersite. Seriously sit down and work on a novel or something.
-------------
He's written at least one already.
Submitted by GDR (user info) at 2006-06-27 19:02:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by awesome_face (user info) at 2006-06-27 18:40:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Jack you need to stop writing on Ubersite. Seriously sit down and work on a novel or something.
Submitted by Teephphah (user info) at 2006-06-27 18:36:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Disturbing on several levels.
Submitted by darko (user info) at 2006-06-27 18:35:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by awesome_face (user info) at 2006-06-27 18:29:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Going under my best ever
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2006-06-27 18:19:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
spiffy
Submitted by Jeanneee (user info) at 2006-06-27 18:18:46 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
What a coincidence, I'm in one of those moods too.
Submitted by Bigmike (user info) at 2006-06-27 18:17:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Yeah, been there.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2006-06-27 18:17:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Jeanneee (user info) at 2006-06-27 18:16:15 (#)
Ranking: 2
One of what moods?
--
A happy-happy let's all dance and have tea in little cups mood.
And then go out and kill people.
Submitted by polymorph505 (user info) at 2006-06-27 18:16:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Sick.
Submitted by Jeanneee (user info) at 2006-06-27 18:16:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
One of what moods?
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2006-06-27 18:15:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
"If at first you don't succeed, Mr. Bloor..."
"Try, try again, Mr. Yonge..."
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2006-06-27 18:03:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I'm in one of those moods...