The Stygian Triplets fall to Hell
Curly hair, dark in shadows, bounced up and down slowly as he walked. He slowed down suddenly as he approached the electronic store. Had he passed this store before? Had he hit this one before? He shrugged. Hell. Might as well do it again. So he took out his hockey mask from his pack and grabbed his hockey stick in his right hand. He pounded through the glass. It shattered to the ground with tiny explosions of broken shards. He smirked happily to himself as he stepped over the fragments and hopped into the destructed building. He ganked as much stuff as he could and was picky as to what he took. Only the best. The loud, ear-piercing alarm wailed through his head as he crunched through broken pieces of glass. There it was! Beautiful! The glass case that held . . . gasp! The video games and systems! He visually searched the desolate landscape. A chair! Hell yeah! And lifting it high above his head, he launched it at the glass encasement. All the pieces fell away from each other in a tumbling cascade. He threw the chair to the floor after it had served its purpose. Happily, he stuffed his pack with games and accessories. He grabbed a couple systems and skipped away from the scene.
Jared's mother smacked him upside the head hard as he walked in the house. "Take off your damn hat!"
"It's not a hat; it's a beanie."
She smacked him again and yelled back at him, "I don't give a shit! Get it off your head. It's rude to wear hats indoors!"
"No, it's not! Shut your mouth, bitch!"
"What did you just say? Young man! I'm gonna whup yer ass!"
"No, you ain't!"
"That's not proper grammar!" With that she smacked him with a book. "Look at this! Grammar! It's an English book! Read it! And learn some damn manners, boy! I'll beat it into you yet!"
WHACK! She beat him again against his hard skull.
"Ow! Stop it, bitch!"
"Don't call me a bitch!"
"Then don't be a bitch!"
"Shut yer mouth, you little brat!"
"Bitch!"
"Brat!"
"Bitch!"
"Brat!"
"Bitch bitch bitch!"
"Brat brat brat!"
"BITCH!"
"BRAT!"
"Mom, I hate you."
"Take off your hat!"
"Okay!" He still stared at her indignantly even though he had stripped off the beanie.
"I love you, sweetie."
"Luv ya', Mom." His voice was impassive and had not feeling of love in it, just the soft echo of a lie.
He took off his beanie and stomped upstairs with confusion but not really caring either way. As he opened the dirty door to his room, he tossed down his stuff: his bag, his hockey stick and his beanie. He looked down at his warm and dark beanie lying haphazardly on the un-vacuumed floor. He ruffled his eyebrows and pouted slightly at the little item. After a moment of staring at it, his mouth grew firm and he bent down, picked it up, and placed it snugly on his head. He sighed softly and gently as he whispered, "Thanks Dad. The only thing you ever gave me was your stupidity and this fucking beanie." He reached into his bag, pulled out a blunt, lit it up, and took a big puff as he fell backwards onto his cluttered bed. Continuing to smoke the weed in his hand, he stared up at the soiled ceiling above his bed, wishing he could stop the evil thoughts consuming his insides like the cancer he was developing.
Kitao ran a hand casually through his dark and silky hair, thick with curls, and smirked. "I should tell Barrett about the stuff I got. It's damn good shit," he thought.He passed by a little drug store on his way home. He dropped his stuff on the ground next to the door and slid his hockey mask down over his face. He wrapped electrical tape around a knife blade on the end of his hockey stick. Into the store, he went. Threatening the little clerk's pathetic life, he stole a bunch of meds. "For Dad," he thought. His father only loved him when he had money or drugs. So he made sure to always carry both when finally coming home. He stuffed his hand in the register and yanked out a wad of cash as a little whimpering form shivered underneath the counter. And soon he was on his way home. When he arrived at the trailer park he called his dad out from under his dirty sheets. "Dad! Get your ass up, I've got stuff for us."
"What?" His gurgled voice spat out in confusion as he pulled the covers off his face. Kitao spread bread, cheese, meats and mustard out on the cluttered counter top. Then he dumped out the items in his pack onto his neatly made bed. He unwrapped the game system from his shirt. He hugged it lovingly. "I always wanted a playstation," he whispered to himself.
"Son! What is this?" His father held up a bottle eye level, questioning. As he examined the label Kitao answered quickly, "It's some meds . . . I know you wanted some . . ."
"While this isn't exactly what I wanted . . . "
Kitao winced at the seemingly inevitable backlash but there was nothing. "Uh? Dad? Are you okay?"
Popping several strange pills in his mouth without a second thought, his father smiled dumbly, "Yeah. I'm fine. I think I'll be out for a while. Thanks."
Feeling deeply touched at the slight sentiment present, Kitao smiled contentedly.
"Ah! You got me Valium! You rock!"
"Uh, don't forget to eat, too, Dad."
Shaking his head, his dad prepared a sandwich with mozzarella cheese, lots of pastrami, and globs of tangy mustard on the fresh, soft wheat bread. He scratched his ass and stretched.
"You spoil me, son." He took a large bite of the sandwich and popped some Valium in his mouth, smiling.
"Don't I know it," the son mumbled to himself whilst shaking his head in shame.
As he pounded the girl into the bed over and over again, Barrett heard the sound of the loud phone, ringing into his ears. Just as he moved to pick it up, the girl lifted a hand to his long, luxurious red hair and yanked him down to force a kiss upon his pink lips. "Ignore it."
"I want to," he mumbled swept away in ecstasy. "But if it's important . . ."
"It's never important," she whispered into his ear as she nibbled on it.
"Sometimes . . ."
"This is more important," she moaned lovingly into his tender ears as she lapped at the soft skin behind it. He moaned as he pounded her harder. The hard rocking sensation brought her endless pleasure . . . until the phone rang once too many times. He jumped off her and picked up the phone. "Hello?" The girl, though disappointed started going down on Barrett as he talked.
"Barrett!"
"Kitao?"
"Hi, I just called cuz I wanted to know if you wanted to come over and play with my new playstation?"
"What? When did you get a playstation?"
"When I lifted an electronic store."
"Cool. Yeah, I'll be over in a bit. Did you get any good games?"
"A couple of sport games . . . hockey . . ."
"Sounds good."
"Kay. See ya'."
"Yeah, later."
"Who was that?" The girl asked as she took her mouth off his cock.
" Someone more important."
"Oh, thanks."
"Sorry, girl, my boys come first."
"Why don't you just fuck them, instead, then!"
"Why don't you just get the fuck out of my house, bitch."
She started to sob as she ran out, grabbing her clothes. "What the hell does she except? This kind of stuff has already happened to her about 10 times. I don't have the nerve to call her my girlfriend but that's the role she takes. I wonder if he knows I jump out of girls for his calls? If he knew I was getting laid would he still call? . . . Yeah. Yeah, he would," Barrett mused to himselfsilently as he put on some clothes and left for Kitao's trailer park home.