From: (Gary Heidenreich)
Newsgroups: talk.bizarre
Subject: Bored in October  //Heidenreich
Date: 1 Dec 1997 13:45:26 GMT
Organization: Medical College of Wisconsin - Milwaukee, WI
Lines: 127
Message-ID: <65uf1m$>
X-Newsreader: TIN [version 1.2 PL2]

	Bored in October
	by Gary J. Heidenreich

The avenue screamed as I waited for the rest of the boys.  Cupping my hand
around the lighter, I try to light my cigarette in this October breeze.  I
don't mind the cool breeze though, it keeps me fresh, alert.  Watching the
traffic for awhile, I think about tonight.  

"Yo, Larry!" hails Tim, his voice confident and sure of himself as always, as
he walks up to me.  He should be confident, tonight is his brainchild.  With
his trench coat open and his hands in his pockets, he approaches where I've
been standing for the last twenty minutes. "Where's Eds and Reggie?"

"Reg will be here any minute, and you know Eds. Shit." I take a drag and do
this exaggerated exhale, just like in all the movies, "You ready."  Tim nods
his head in agreement, and we both wait in silence.

Those new Halogen streetlights don't throw the shadows like the old ones did
when we were kids, but night is night and this is what we planned.  I throw my
cigarette butt into the street, watching the traffic.

"Reg, Eds, 'bout time." Tim notices them first, coming from out of the alley
behind the pizza place. They wave, and we moved to meet them, to get off the
main road, out of the light.  "Ready." Tim asks.  He pulls out a cigarette and
lights it, he has no problem with the wind, maybe that's a good sign.  I'll
take anything as a good sign.

Reggie, Mr. Five O'clock shadow, standing with his hands in his pockets of his
short black leather coat.  He fidgets while he stands, high strung, you know
he is always ready. He shakes his head violently, "Yeah, it's cold as fuck,
let's go!"

Eds, is another story.  Long, straw colored hair, old jean jacket, and his
Fred Flintstone button, he lives for fun.  The only answer he gives is his
cheshire grin and that gleam in his eyes.  

"Well, let me finish my cig." Tim takes a huge drag and chucks the rest into
the gutter.  "Let's do it."

"Who's first?", I ask the rest of them, "Maybe we should draw."

"I'll go first," Tim says before I could finish, "It was my idea anyway." 

We start to walk back up to the main street, we all agreed that it would be
the best place to start.  As we walked, Eds boots clicked, making me think of
one of those westerns where the gang just walks in a line.  This isn't a
western though, but we're still walking.

Carrying a box of doughnuts, an elderly couple is leaving the doughnut shop
talking amongst themselves.  I look over at Tim, he nods, I nod back, this is
it.  I can see the look of fear on the old couple as they slowly approach us.
We walk, not saying a word, staring at them, eyes piercing their souls,
cutting them to ribbons.  Their look of fear turned into pure terror when Tim
pulled out his shotgun.  The old woman's mouth was saying a silent prayer when
Tim jammed the shotgun in her face and pulled the trigger.

A kaleidoscope of gore filled the void where her head used to be.  It took a
second before her body fell to the ground, and amazingly, she was still
clutching her purse.  She'll clutch it for all eternity now, wondering what
really happened.

A look of utter shock was now on the old man's face, while he tried to grasp
the reality of the situation.

"All we want are the doughnuts." Eds tells him.

I remember, back when we were kids, smashing pumpkins was the "In" thing.  The
first one I finally did smash, after getting over the fear of getting caught,
gave me a rush I haven't felt in years.  So I pulled out my .38 and,
remembering a quote from a Stephen King book I once read, pokerized him in the

It's back. That adrenalin rush we used to get when we were kids, when we would
do something illegal.  It's back, except it's more potent than before.
Watching him die, was my most powerful moment of my life.

We ran off immediately, not caring to wait for the police to arrive, laughing
like children at a Punch & Judy show.  Zipping through alleys, creeping in
shadows, we knew we would get another chance tonight.  I could taste it.

Stopping to catch our breath in the unused front doorway of Wally's Gas, we
could hear the sirens cutting, slicing thru the silence of the neighborhood.
Coming around the corner of the old trolley station, Ed spotted a middle-aged
woman walking her poodle.  Lord, I hate poodles.  

"She's mine!" hissed Eds as he left the shelter of the doorway.

"I want the fuckin' poodle." I followed Eds, ready to savor the moment, feel
the rush.

The woman heard Eds coming and flinched as she spun around.  Seeing Eds with a
gun would make me flinch also.  I grabbed her dog and really not knowing what
I was doing, slammed the dog upon the ground.  I never heard an animal produce
such a sickening sound like I just heard.  Before it could crawl away from me,
I stomped on its torso like it was a bug.  The animal's wimpering along with
the woman begging us not to hurt her was just about all I could stand.  Eds,
on the other hand, loves to hear people beg; knowing all the time their
efforts are feudal.

"We don't have time for this." Reggie told Eds as he jammed the barrel of his
gun in her face and pulled the trigger.  She collapsed next to her dog.
"Let's go." Reggie finishes saying, pointing in the direction of the old
railroad tracks that run behind the old trolley station.
Knowing the police would be busy up at the doughnut shop, we walked leisurely
up toward the avenue.  No one had much to say, deciding to take this time to
reflect upon our deeds.  Looking over at Reggie's face helped me remember what
this was all about.  He had a look of absolute glee, that Kid-at-Christmastime
look.  Knowing that, I smiled a bit.  We walked on.  

Screeching sirens coming from behind us must have discovered the carnage back
by the old trolley station.

Stifling a yawn, I asked the rest, "I'm getting kinda tired, ya'll wanna call
it a night?"

"Sounds good," Reggie says, "I gotta work tomorrow.  Same time tomorrow?"

"Yeah, but let's meet over by the water tower, we haven't been in that area
for a while." I answered back, starting my walk home, enjoying that cool
breeze.  Lighting my cigarette, I think on what a glorious day it will be

Enjoy FTSD 1997