To mow people down or not to mow people down, that is the question.
But when did this question begin? That's a story all of its own.
I used to be the dedicated neighborhood lawnmower man. I mowed lawns for the Randalls and Duffys, the VanCotts and the Brouwers. You see, I am retired. I used to own my own landscaping business, but when the economy got rough and I got old, I decided it was time to sell.
The only thing I kept was the first lawn mower I had purchased for my new business when I started, all the way back in 1978. Unfortunately, when your black hair starts to turn grey and you earn more than your fair share of cheeseburger weight, people begin to think that they're better than you. When they believe they're better than you, they believe they can take advantage of you.
They never paid me.
I had a contract with all of those families and the many more around our neighborhoods that clearly stated that on the thirtieth of the month, they were to pay me. The checks never came. I never got the money for the time spent baking in the summer sun. I decided to take action.
I decided to kill.
So now that I had my lawnmower and motivation, I started riding. I've ridden over little Sally and Johnny Mason from next door, that slut Tina Frost from next to the park, and even the successful tycoon Barabus Fletcher.
Nothing is better than the sound of bodies being mulched in the morning, especially when I just sit on top of them, uncaring of the time, letting them dissolve.
Okay, that one was probably the most difficult one I've had so far. It took a bit of research and it was kind of hard to get inside of his head. Anyway, please review!