It was now a Tuesday night as the Dude headed back to his trailer to confront the Bitch one last time. The closer he came to his trailer, the harder his heart pounded. He wasn't quite sure, but if he had to guess, it probably had to do with traveling with Larry Chakawitz for however long it took to get enough money to settle down on a house. Still, all the C4 he was carrying wasn't going to be wasted. The Dude was tired of having to do everything for the Bitch, and was readying to let it all go.
The Dude entered his trailer, where the Bitch was smoking a cigarette and reading the newspaper again. She acknowledged his presence but didn't look at him.
"Did you get Gary Coleman's autograph? I can get a small fortune for it on eBay," asked the Bitch
"Yeah, a "small" fortune…" said the Dude, realizing its real worth, "Say, aren't those things more valuable when the person's deceased?"
"Yes, why?"
"No reason. Can I borrow your computer?"
The Bitch nodded as the Dude grinned at the prospect of selling What I'm talkin' about for a high value, since Gary Coleman most likely met a terrible fate from the police. He booted up the bitch's laptop and idly browsed the internet until it was time to execute the plan he had been waiting for all day.
"Hold on, honey, I gotta take a nasty shit. Gotta do it outside so I don't stink up the place," the Dude feigned, as he quickly hid a packet of C4 underneath a pillow. The Dude also pocketed his handy crack pipe; every last spec of crack was going to be needed in the long run now.
"Maybe you can do it in the dog's bowl while you're at it!" the Bitch hissed as the Dude got up with one hand on his stomach and another holding the Bitch's laptop.
"Oh, this is gonna be a big one. Gonna need this…"
The Dude opened the refrigerator and swapped out a bottle of beer for a packet of C4. He stepped outside with butterflies in his stomach as he fumbled for another piece of C4 after dropping the beer.
"Finally, that tired old whore's gonna get what she deserves," thought the Dude as he dropped another packet of C4 on the steps to the trailer. With three left, he dropped one in the shed by the trailer and placed the last two behind the trailer. The resulting explosion would be more than overkill, but he didn't want to risk the Bitch living. All the charges were set as he saw his dog, Champ, sleeping in the doghouse.
"Champ! We gotta get moving before the Bitch gets suspicious. Come on, boy!" the Dude called to his dog, who woke up and slowly got out of the doghouse.
"Good boy. Let's get to a nice, scenic view of this, shall we?"
The Dude and his dog started to run from the trailer to the place where Larry Chakawitz always was. When the Dude was roughly one-hundred feet away, he grabbed the detonator Larry supplied him with and eagerly rested his thumb on it. The Dude continued to look straight ahead on the route he took as his thumb pressed the button on the detonator to activate the C4. A deafening explosion could be heard behind them, as well as a brief glimmer of fiery light illuminated their surroundings. Sounds of metal twisting and hitting the ground were the last things from the explosion that could be heard. It was safe to say the Bitch would never be seen again, outside of a DNA test collected from a lump of burnt flesh.
The Dude smiled as the glorious sounds of the explosion rung in his ears as he imagined the Bitch being torn to hundreds of tiny pieces. Never again would he have to carry out trivial errands for a morbidly obese woman. The only drawback was that his car most likely also perished, leaving him without a vehicle. He could always find an alternate form of transportation. A bicycle wouldn't be that shabby, and he didn't need to pay for its gas. But this wasn't the time to ponder about personal transportation. This was the time to get the hell out of Paradise.
"I hope the bastard still remembers me. Otherwise, I'd better learn how to dig my way out of prison with just a toothbrush," the Dude thought to himself as he and Champ were running through the darkened streets to get out of this wretched city. Even short on breath, the Dude carried on, knowing that the police would be on his tail now. The outskirts of Paradise were reached, and much to the Dude's delight, was Larry Chakawitz's truck waiting for him.
"Looks like it's time for us to move on up! Git yo ass in here!"
The Dude placed the laptop in the passenger seat and lifted champ into the back of the truck. With Champ secured, he got into the passenger seat and moved the laptop onto his lap. Larry floored the gas pedal and drove off into the night.
"Woo hoo! That's what I called great conduct! You did a fine ass job back there!" Larry complemented the Dude on a job well done.
"Yeah well, at least she didn't keep anything in the divorce," joked the Dude. Larry laughed like a schoolboy.
"Heh hah! I foresee a long and prosperous future with ya at my side! I need to make a pit stop to relocate my cargo. You should probably help me so we don't have to worry with the law chasin' us as much. This your dog?"
"My only real friend. Fine by me; he won't try to report me to the police," the Dude joked, pleasing Larry Chakawitz with his charisma.
"Got any fancy ideas on where to head next? I was thinking about this place called Catharsis. I heard it was what Paradise was gonna be if we didn't help clean up them junkies. Lotsa good business waitin'. Still can't believe you done it, killing your wife. Wish I oughta did it to mine, now she's probably blowin' off some representative in secret."
Catharsis sounded much worse than Paradise to the Dude, but that also meant there would be plenty of action in his line of work.
"Anything interesting there?" the Dude wanted to know.
"Eh, not really, if you're talkin' 'bout famous buildings and shit. I met my wife there, if that tells you anything. Still though, place is practically crawling with them low lives, exactly the type you exterminated. My friend's friend can hook us up with anything we need, includin' cold, hard, cash. Hey, somebody's gotta rid this world of pests, right?" Larry explained as the truck approached Larry Chakawitz's secret stash.
The Dude got out of the truck, but because it was night time, didn't see where he was moving and lost his footing. He plummeted face-first onto the dirty, itchy sand with a pitiful "oomph" escaping his lips. Larry heard the Dude face plant onto the sand and rushed to help him up.
"You okay, boy?" Larry asked as he stood by the fallen Postal Dude. He came over to his right side to help him up, as he noticed something peculiar. It was a small, brown, instrument that showed sign of use. Larry put it up to his nose and took a whiff. It reeked with a smoky, intoxicating stench. He immediately knew what it was.
"Boy, the fuck is this? You been smokin' crack behind my back all this time?" Larry asked, with an angry, serious tone of voice. The Dude looked up and looked at Larry Chakawitz holding the crack pipe. He was at a loss for words as his heart started to race like never before. Larry didn't accept the Dude's silence as a valid answer.
"How could you fuckin' do this to me!? I thought we had something!" Larry cried, "I treated you like a son. A son! And now it turns out you're one of them!"
"Woah, let's not jump to conclusions like-"
The Dude's reasoning was cut off as Larry threw the crack pipe away and pulled out his Deagle. The barrel was in contact with the Dude's forehead as Larry's index finger was on the trigger.
"I should'a known better! You're just another fuckin' cockroach like the ones I've worked so hard killin' any way I can! You live like a roach; you gonna die like a roach!"
The Postal Dude tried to grab Larry Chakawitz's gun out of a desperate panic. His hand grabbed the barrel…only to set it off wildly. The Postal Dude fell backward from the recoil as his consciousness blanked. There stood Larry Chakawitz with the Dude's blood all over him, frustrated beyond comprehension upon finding out the Dude was another drug user that was Larry sought to exterminate from Arizona.
"I'm disappointed in you, boy. We could'a had something." Larry spat on the Dude as he picked up Champ and violently threw the dog to the ground. He loaded up his truck with as many crates the truck could allow before speeding off to Catharsis. Champ sniffed the Dude and whined, knowing that something terrible had happened. That's when Champ heard the blare of police sirens and saw the red and blue lights of said sirens closing in fast…