Mike Stevens was a regular dude. Well, first of all, he didn't like being called "Mike", he preferred the name "Trey", for some odd reason or another. Anyway, he was a regular dude...well, I guess not. I mean, he might have been a regular dude, considering all the lunatics out there in his hometown out in the Alleghenies, but then again, not a lot of people live out in the Alleghenies, so that's saying something. He wasn't the brightest dude either, seeing as he dropped out of High School to pursue happiness, but didn't get much out of it. He's also got a boatload of problems. You see, Trey was born in Vice City, but his folks got killed in a drunk driving accident. Well, not really an accident, more or less "swerving across the freeway and into the back of a parked dump truck". Anyway, since his folks were killed when he was about three, he got shipped up to the Alleghenies to live with his grandparents. He lived a good life, at least that's what he told himself. In reality, all his friends turned their backs on him and his ex-girlfriend falsely charged him for stalking her. Nowadays, at the ripe old age of twenty-five, he still lived with his grandparents in a modest split-level house, collected model trains, and attended raves whenever he could, because think about it-what else is there to do for fun in the Alleghenies? Not too long ago, he realized that he needed a steady flow of money to fund his hobby of sitting in his Grandparent's basement, watching miniature locomotives run in circles while taking acid, so what did our friend Trey do? He got a job at a local electronic distribution center as a forklift driver, hoping to score some easy money.
Edited by universetwisters, 06 April 2013 - 02:39 AM.
Today was Trey's 14th day on the job, and it was going to be just like any other day in Trey's agenda: wake up, eat breakfast, walk to the warehouse, work, eat dinner, and chill. However, during his walk to the warehouse, something hit Trey. No, it wasn't a baseball, or a rock, more or less it was something that hit his mind, like a bullet of realization piercing through his cookie-cutter mind. He was thinking "What the hell am I doing? I barely get enough money, it's too repetitive, I f*cking hate it!" After thinking for a good minute or so about it, he decided that he didn't want to be a lowly forklift driver anymore. Problem was, he wanted to quit with dignity. Sure, he could call up his boss and tell him to "suck it", so to speak, but that wouldn't do him any good. And besides, that's no fun, at least for Trey it wouldn't be any fun. Thus, Trey decided to get into his Boss's office, tell him off, and walk out, feeling like a king. So, that's what he did. He walked into the warehouse complex, and headed over to his Boss's office.
After reaching his Boss's office, he thought about knocking on the door, but he had second thoughts about that, deciding to make a badass entry. He impolitely broke the glass on the Boss's door, pulled on the door handle from the inside, and let himself in, all as his Boss was watching in terror. Trey was literally shaking, given that this is the first time he really "rebelled" against anything, but he knew at this point, there was no going back, so he did what he could. He pointed a trembling finger at his boss, and with a cracking voice, addressed him.
"H-hey, f*cker, I got a bone to pick with you!", exclaimed Trey.
"What the hell is your problem?! You busted my door, I'm taking that out of your paycheck!" said the boss.
"You're not taking a goddamn thing out of my paycheck, because...I-I quit!" said Trey.
"What?" Said the boss?
"Did I f*cking stutter?" stuttered Trey as he unzipped his pants and urinated on his Boss's desk.
"Now listen to me, you insolent f*ck!" Trey shouted as he drained the lizard all over the Boss's Oak Mahogany desk that cost him a lot of money, "I've done nothing but do your dirty work for all these weeks, and what do I get to show for it? For all my hard work? Nothing! Nothing but a lowly, sh*tty paycheck that not even an immigrant would take, and what's more, this job is driving me insane! Day in, and day out, I do the most repetitive tasks over, and over, and over again! And for what? For seven bucks an hour? That's a f*cking shame, dude-"
"Get out!" shouted the boss, "Get out of my f*cking warehouse and don't come back!"
"That would be a pleasure, but there's something I want to do first", Trey said with a sly look on his face as he zipped up his pants.
Trey, after zipping up his pants, walked over to the boss and promptly charged at him, vaulting over the urine-stained desk and taking the boss down with him as he made his landing. Trey grabbed the telephone off of the desk, which was also stained with urine, and bludgeoned him with the telephone. The boss tried to put up a fight, but it was no match for Trey's newly-found adrenaline rush. Trey screamed in triumph as he beat the phone into his boss's head, until his arm got tired. When his arm got tired, he took the phone cord, wrapped it around the boss's neck, and strangled him. After the deed was done, he got up and examined his work. "Woah", Trey exclaimed. He was about to walk out of the office, when suddenly, he noticed another warehouse employee was standing in the doorway, who witnessed everything. Trey saw that guy every now and then during work, but they never really talked or anything. But today, Trey thought he was hiding something from him, for some unknown reason. Trey picked up a urine-stained coffee cup, full of freshly-poured coffee, and threw it at the witness as Trey called out "What the f*ck are you hiding from me, you miserable c*nt!?". The witness tried to dodge the coffee cup, but it hit his forehead, shattering and sending hot coffee all over him. The witness went down screaming as Trey examined the results of his newly-found freedom: he managed to strangle his boss and burnt his coworker. Trey patteted himself on the back and walked out of the warehouse, but not before stealing the keys to his Boss's luxury car. Trey, now free, had one location on his mind: his ex girlfriend's house.
After urinating on his former boss's desk, strangling him with a phone cord, and burning his ex-coworker with hot coffee, Trey trecked over to his ex girlfriend's house. Her name was Jessica, and she dated Trey back in high school. At the time, she was a freshman, whereas Trey was a sophomore. They dated for a few months, until Trey caught her with another guy. Looking back on it on the way to her house, Trey knew he should have punched the guy she was sleeping with in the face, strike him in the chin with a hammer, and burry his body underneath some nearby abandoned train tracks, but now was not the time to look back on the past. Trey's adrenaline was rushing, the likes of which Trey has never experienced before. Trey was walking down the sidewalk, scratching his arm just to give his hand something to do, he was so pent up with anger and frustration. He was kicked to the curb by Jessica ten years ago. For ten years, he was missing something in his life. Ten years, he was trying to fill a hole Jessica left him with drugs and alcohol. Ten years after the sad breakup, Trey was finally headed towards redemption. He knew now was the time.
After a very paranoid walk from the warehouse (which involved him looking over his shoulder every few steps for the local police), Trey finally arrived at Jessica's house. Her house stood out like a sore thumb from the rest of the split-level houses in his cookie-cutter neighborhood. The grass was overgrown up to Trey's knees, a rusty, stripped-down car was lying in the driveway, and there was a very noticeable swastika crudely spray painted on her garage door. In case you couldn't figure it out yet, Jessica was a Neo-Nazi, not a very good one at least. When she first met Trey, she thought Hitler was one of the most badass persons ever in history because of all the people he killed. And it seems that she carried that anti sematic thought with her to adulthood. Trey took a deep breath, looked around for any police cars, and tried to walk up to her front door as calmly as he could. Once he reached the front door, he clenched his then-open hand into a firm fist and knocked on the door. He would've rang the doorbell, but it was missing it's frame, and wires were sticking out of it at all corners. Trey would've used the doorbell under regular circumstances, but these were no regular circumstances. Trey's deranged train of thought told him that it was booby-trapped, the wires at the ready to shock anyone who were unlucky enough to stick their fingers near it. After a few seconds of waiting, the door finally opened. To Trey's expectations, Jessica opened the door. She was wearing an oversized T-shirt and flannel pants, with a weary look on her face, almost as if she has just woken out of bed. Trey was too nervous to speak, so Jessica said the first words.
"Well, what the f*ck do you want?"
Evidently, Jessica didn't recognize Trey. Maybe it was because Trey cut his long, shoulder-length hair after high school. Maybe it was because Trey was wearing a hoodie that day, which he almost never did. Maybe it was because Jessica was unfamiliar with the stern look of rebellion Trey had across his face. But whatever the reason was, Trey tried his best to calmly reply.
"H-hey, Jessica-", stammered Trey.
"How the f*ck do you know my name? You're not one of those ni**ers who rides by here with their f*ckin' tribal music, are you?" exclaimed Jessica.
"No, no, no...you don't remember me?"
"No, who are you?"
"I'm Trey, Trey from High School-"
At that very moment, Jessica slammed the door in Trey's face. Trey knew what was going on, or at least thought he did, Jessica was trying to weasel her way out of his grasp, trying to cut him out of the loop. Normally, Trey would've hung his head and walked away to drown his sorrows, but not today. Today was different. Trey kicked the door open and catches Jessica fleeing out the back door of her kitchen. Trey looked around the living room for a weapon he can use against her. A gun, knife, rolled-up newspaper, anything. At last, Trey found a vintage P38 pistol lying on the coffee table. He picked it up, sprinted to the kitchen, and kicked the door down. He then caught Jessica trying to climb over the fence in an attempt to get away from him. Trey raised the gun and fired a shot at her, but missed and hit the fence. Trey knew that he should get closer to her before taking any other shots, so he ran over to the fence, climbed it, and then chased after Jessica. Jessica was fast, but she was no match for Trey's stamina. Trey finally caught up with Jessica in a nearby street. Trey raised the gun once gain, aimed for her legs, and fired. The shot hit it's mark, and Jessica went down, hard. She began sobbing in the middle of the street, clenching her wound, when Trey slowly walked up to her.
"Why did you cheat on me, you bitch, why?!"
Before she could answer, Trey fired another shot into her. The deed was done. The bitch was dead, and a burden was lifted off of Trey's shoulders. Trey, content with his work, put the pistol in his back pocket, and headed over to the one place in town he liked-the bar.
Edited by universetwisters, 06 April 2013 - 02:45 AM.