Manslaughter

Short Story by: McKnight

Summary

Read it and find out...

Content

Submitted: January 21, 2014

A A A | A A A

Content

Submitted: January 21, 2014

A A A

A A A


Sitting in my studio apartment, I laid on my bed, pondering on whether or not I should go to a strip club on a Tuesday morning, but then all of that changed when the Fire Nation attacked. Only the world’s greatest superhero ever that goes by the name… wait… he doesn’t have a name, but when the world needed him most, he died. A hundred days has past and the world is still in need of a superhero. My city, Citysville, is plagued with murder and rape. My name is Yugi Moto. And here is my story.

From the Intel I have gathered, the lead gang, Gangers, all hang out at the one bar and grill called Moe’s. I stood atop the building adjacent to it and leaped across the desolated street and crashed landed inside the bar. The dust filled the air and I could hear them coughing and gagging. I was sick, so I couldn’t really smell anything. The dust was still lingering, annoying the mess out of me, so I reached into my pocket and pulled out a Dirt Devil vacuum cleaner that sucked up all the dust. When the dust was gone, all of the members of the Gangers were staring awkwardly at me. Some had a disgusted looks on their face, some had amazed looks on their face. And I saw why. I was completely naked. I had no clothes and I was darker than a shadow. I was so dark, they had a nickname for me because of how dark I was. They called me…

“It’s DARKIE!” One of the punks yelled as he rushed at me with his head down. He grabbed my wait, but my male extension, The Organism Formerly Known as Penis as I like to call it, rested on top of his head as he tried to pick me up. His other friends look at him.

“Dude, he’s naked!” They all simultaneously yelled as it looked like he had a thick tootsie roll growing out of the back of his head.  He stopped lifting me and he let me go, The Organism Formerly Known as Penis sliding roughly off of his coarse hair. He screamed like a howler monkey and melted because whenever the Gangers touch another man’s organism, they melt down like the Wicked Witch of the West. “He obviously didn’t think that through.” Another guy said as he stood up and tried to fight me. I stood there with my arms folded. “I’m gonna beat you off.”

“Um, I’m pretty sure you mean ‘down’. If not, then get to beating.” I know that I’m going to lose fans for this, but what they don’t know won’t hurt them until they learn about it and then it’ll probably hurt them. Not physically because words never hurt anyone. Unless you were on Sesame Street and you called a word a bad word. Literally. You call a word a bad word and they will beat the letters out of your name and rearrange them into “bitch” because that’s what you are now. A bitch. To make it worse, you’re their bitch. Anyway, I’m getting sidetracked. He pulled a chair that was bolted to the ground out of the ground and he threw it at me. I just stood there like people would normally stand if they were naked: confidently. I kicked the chair into pieces and I charged at him, but I forgot that it was dark and I forgot that I didn’t really kick the chair, but I imagined that I kicked the chair because the chair actually hit me into a delusional coma. And then I woke up tied to a chair. It was another dark room and this dark room had a familiar face, well, a familiar chin. He punched me really hard in the face, causing me to spit out blood. A lot of it.

With a very gruff, as if he smoked a lot since his parents died, yelled, “WHERE ARE THE DRUGS?!?!”

I spat out blood one last time. “The last time I had drugs, you wanted none of them. Now you want some? Make up your mind.” He punched me again, this time I shed a tear because that one really hurt.

“WHERE ARE THEY?!?!?!?!”

“Are we still talking about drugs or people?” He punches me one last time, knocking me on the floor, still tied to the chair.

He kneels down to me and pulls himself to my ear for a gentle whisper, “WHERE ARE THE DRUGS?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!”

“To your parents… oh wait.” Batman stands up and stomps me in my face and I awake in another dream. This time, I wasn’t naked and it was full of snow and there was a sign that said, “Narnia.” I smiled. I have always wanted to go to Narnia. I wonder what journey awaits me here. Only one way to find out. 


© Copyright 2016 McKnight. All rights reserved.

Manslaughter Manslaughter

Status: Finished

Genre: Westerns

Houses:

Details

Status: Finished

Genre: Westerns

Houses:

Summary

Read it and find out...
Share :
Twitter

Add Your Comments:

Comments

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

avatar

Author
Reply

Other Content by McKnight

Booksie Popular Content

Genres & Types

Add picture

Paste the link to picture in the entry below:

— or —

Drag a picture from your file manager into this box,
or click to select.

Add video

Paste the link to Youtube video in the following entry:

Existing Comments:
Bad selection

Cannot annotate a non-flat selection. Make sure your selection starts and ends within the same node.

(example of bad selection): This is bold text and this is normal text.
(example of good selection): This is bold text and this is normal text.
Bad selection

An annotation cannot contain another annotation.

Anonymous
Really delete this comment?
Anonymous
Really delete this comment?

There was an error uploading your file.


    
Anonymous