Posts Tagged ‘fiction’


Welcome to the Jungle starts blasting on the alarm clock and I roll over to smack it quiet…again… I am tired.  Being a hardcore Bad Ass 24/7 is grueling work.

I roll out of bed and get dressed for work.  The wife says “honey, what are you doing?”. “I’m going to get shit done baby, go back to sleep.” “Please be careful out there babe.” “Mmmhmm, always do.”

The kitchen is dark as the sun is just peeking over the horizon.  I don’t want to wake my kids so I throw my breakfast together in the dim light.  Making my breakfast of champions can be done with my eyes closed anyway.. so no worries.  “What the F..?” Why do my kids always put the Lucky Charms box back EMPTY?, I think to myself. “Damn it… now I have to go to plan B.”  I’m running out of time anyway, I’ll just resort to a protein shake and get my ass on the road.

In the corner of my eye I see a flash of movement.  I dart to the corner of the kitchen closest to the exit door so I have a clear view of the back yard.  “Son of a BITCH”, I whisper angrily.  That God damned squirrel with the half tail is dangling from my bird feeder again.  Lumping him up with pellets from my son’s air rifle didn’t do the trick.. maybe he’s the Bad Ass of the squirrel population in my neighborhood.

Well today his shit ends.  He picked the wrong day to mess with THIS suburban Bad Ass mother fucker.  Without hesitation I slip my hand into the closet and pull my tactical 12 gage from the hidden compartment behind the jackets and then take aim.  “Good bye tree rat!”  Then I see my neighbors back light flicker on.  “Balls!” I empty the chamber and put the boom-stick back in its proper place.  I didn’t want to obliterate my Pottery Barn feeder anyway.

Now what to do?  My silenced 9mm is in the bedroom, my crossbow is in the garage and I’m running out of time.  I look over to the kitchen counter and I see my blender with only a half serving of protein powder in its base.  This day is starting off splendidly.  I ordered my protein a week ago.. my new canister should be here… grrrr.. I’ll have to deal with the GNC asshats another time.

Ok.. this is getting stupid now.  I have to be on the road in 10 mins to beat the traffic, otherwise I will have to kill someone before I get to work.  I do not have time to deal with disposing of another body and risk being late.  My job is too important and the world cannot survive if I am late.

Another flash of movement distracts me and this time I hear the clang of my hanging feeder swinging wildly back and forth because that piece of shit squirrel is still at it.  This has to be done quickly and quietly, but if I do this right I can solve my protein problem as well as dispose of that tree rat all in one shot.

I decide to go with “shock n maul”, because that’s what Bad Asses do.  I blast through the back door and make for the feeder.  I know this dumb ass squirrel isn’t moving because he thinks he’s at Brazilian bird seed house. Plus we have already established he’s tough as is apparent from the bald patches on his ass from my Daisy Pellet Gun wounds.  And let’s not forget his lack of 4 inches of tail.

When I get close enough to strike he freezes.  His nub is twitching like some kind of rodent semaphore.  Too late asshole, you will not be calling in support for this mission.  One more step and he’s mine…. Then it happens.

He pops his head up above the roof of the feeder and looks at me. Check that.. he’s mean mugging me!  This little bastard is the Dirty Harry of the vermin world.  If he could talk he would give me the “Make my day” line.. I am sure of it.  No matter, today is “don’t fuck with me Tuesday” and he’s out of time.  I slap the base of the feeder to spin his ass around then I grab him by the nape of the neck and hold him up at eye level.

This is where you would probably expect me to give him some drawn out speech.  Tell him how he just done fucked up and now he’s got to pay.  Nah, no time. Remember the potential murder on the highway if I don’t get moving.. I just cold cock him and …. “oh no..”

My daughter is standing in the kitchen rubbing her eyes.  There is no way she saw me.. Please!  I walk into the kitchen and she sees me right away… I am praying at this point she doesn’t see the bulge in my back pocket where poor old Rocky is resting in peace.  “Daddy, what are you doing outside?” “Sweetie, I was just fixing a problem” (because I don’t lie to my Daughter, it’s way more Bad Ass to tell a half-truth than an easy lie).  “I am thirsty Daddy.” Oh thank you Lord, she didn’t see me.  I get her a drink and send her back to bed.

Time check! Shit.. 3 minutes until the Highway to Hell becomes pure mayhem. Now this is where the weak people will cringe.  Tree huggers everywhere will shutter at the thought of what I am about to do.  PETA would lock me up on sight, but I really don’t give a shit.  It’s GO TIME and I’m a Bad Ass remember?  Into the blender Rocky.. I need to make up that protein somewhere.