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The Poems And Confessions Of A Mad Man Page 16


  Deadly Class Reunion

  By: Andrew J. Green

  I have a class reunion coming up in a year or so. There are a lot of people I am looking forward to seeing from my graduating class. I had quite a few friends in school and it will probably be a good time. The only problem I’m having with the whole thing is that our school was so small, that the class reunion isn’t just my class. In order to afford to rent out the hall at a reasonable price, our high school reunion will include the classes who graduated the 2 years ahead of my class. Personally I don’t like the idea because there were a bunch of assholes in those grades and I will not be nice to those douche bags. As a matter of fact, there are still some grudges that I’ve been carrying for 20 years or so. I may make it a reunion to remember.

  There were a couple of upper classmen who thought they walked on water and who would push around some of the younger people in school. I think I might become an asshole at the reunion and do some pushing around myself. Most of them won’t remember what they did to me or anyone else to warrant the beating they will probably get, but I’m sure I’ll remind them as I’m pounding their head against the marble dance floor. I know that while I’m reminding them of the pain they inflicted in high school, some of the people in my class will be happy to see the ass whipping take place.

  I know that most of the jocks and the girls who were beautiful will probably be fat and ugly. I know that will make the late blooming girls, or the ones that weren’t the first pick for the Prom, happy though. I am usually the first person to tell the girl, who thought she was better than anybody else, that she became fat and ugly. I don’t care if she is married and her husband is standing right there with her. If he says anything, I’ll bust his head wide open just for being so stupid and being with her. I’ll make it a party to remember.

  There wasn’t anyone who had the balls to pick on me in high school, but there was one guy that picked on my older sister relentlessly. He was a real piece of shit. He would say things in front of other classmates to her that really pissed me off. He would ask her when she was going to let him screw her and would harass her all of the time. He was a couple of years older than me, and would have buried me if I had stood up to him. He fought all of the time and I recall one time at a party, he beat another kid from another school unconscious and then kicked his face in. He completely altered this poor kid’s life because he was from a different school. What an asshole.

  I think I’ll alter his life at the reunion. The things this guy has done in the past has been eating at me for the last 20 or so years, and I think I’m going to kill him at the reunion. I’m told he is a piece of shit as an adult, so I think I will be doing society a big favor. I’ve taught knife fighting for a long time and have become an expert at disarming someone who attacks me with one. I think I’ll bring 2 boot knives with me to the reunion. I know the guy will be the asshole that he has always been. When he makes a stupid remark toward anyone, I’ll insult him or his wife. He will ask me if I want to get my ass kicked by him. I’ll then give him one of the boot knives and tell him we are playing for keeps and that I’m going to kill him in front of his wife.

  He will probably try to get out of it but I will tell him I’m going to kill him and cut up his wife before his blood is cold. If I know his temper, he will grab the knife with his right hand and raise it over his head and come down on me with it. I will have my knife in my right hand. When he comes down on me, I will just stop the knife by grabbing his wrist with my left hand and wrapping my right forearm around the back of his elbow and push on his wrist with my left hand. He will fall backwards as I dislocate his shoulder. I will already have my knife in my right hand so when he goes down, I will just slit his throat, since the knife is right there by his throat. He will bleed out, right there in front of everybody.

  I’m not afraid if he catches me with the knife because I’ve been stabbed and cut a number of times. I never even know I’m cut until later on. I know some of the kids at the reunion will say that he deserved it. The judges will probably give me a medal for putting that piece of trash where he belongs. The cops hate him anyway. All he ever did was cause trouble wherever he went. I know I will walk away without even going to prison, just because of my size. I’m only 5’4” tall and weigh only 160. He is 6’6” and weighs 250. Besides, I have the best attorney that money can buy. He will argue that I was attacked by a giant with a knife that I was showing him. My only defense was to kill the man. It will be the Biblical David and Goliath story. Yes indeed, it will certainly be a class reunion to remember.

  Illegal Immigrants

  By: Andrew J. Green

  I have the solution to the illegal immigration problem that is plaguing this great country of the United States of America. You may say that it isn’t politically correct, but I assure you that it would get rid of the problem and make our citizens much safer and may even put money into the pockets of us all. I’m sure you would agree that this problem is costing the taxpayers here many billions of dollars each year to support the illegal immigrants through the healthcare they receive and never pay for. Also, many are coming to this country pregnant so that they can give birth to their children which in turn, gives them the right to receive the welfare benefits that is supposed to be for the American citizens who are down on their luck.

  Well, my proposal would eliminate all of those problems and save us Americans tons of money each year. Don’t forget the health risks that these illegals are bringing to this country. Many of these people are running from their country because they are criminals in their countries and they hope to be able to start a new life here. Most of the criminals just commit crimes like robbery, rape and murder, and then if they are caught, they will spend the next 20 years in a U.S. prison, living better than they did as a free person in their native country. So here is my idea.

  The American government should give the illegal immigrants a one month notice to leave our country. After one month, if they are still in this country, then a $100.00 bounty will be paid to the American citizen who brings the dead body of the illegal immigrant to a designated area in the local town. That’s right; we should put a $100.00 bounty on the heads of every single illegal immigrant that is in this country. Man, woman, or child. I promise you that the illegals will be scrambling for the borders to leave, instead of invading us like the plague that they have become.

  I can sympathize with them for wanting to live in the greatest country in the world, The United States of America. When I was stationed in Europe many years ago, I witnessed 5 people on 5 different occasions, get their heads blown for trying to leave the shit hole Communist country they lived in. They just wanted to have a better life and defect from the East German country they lived in. I do sympathize with the illegal immigrants, but when there is a chance of even one illegal immigrant, that may attempt to haul a dirty bomb into our country and kill the people in an entire city, well then I guess it’s time that we do something to keep that slim possibility from becoming a reality.

  If there is anyone who thinks that we should not take such drastic measures to defend our borders, then I hope that the next time an illegal immigrant rapes and kills a citizen in this county, I hope that the person who loses their life is your son or daughter. I hope that as you stand over your slain child’s grave, and your child’s blood cries out and asks you, “Why Mommy and Daddy did this happen to me?” You can tell your dead child that you didn’t love them enough to protect them from something like this that has happened to them. You can tell them that they weren’t worth enough to you, to take drastic measures to protect them from the dangerous illegal aliens that this country has in it. You can tell them anything that makes you feel better, but I want you to know that in a sense, you killed your child. That’s right! You killed your child because you didn’t protect them from a danger that you knew was lurking in the darkness and would strike someone. You just thought it would be someone else. Well now it’s you and your family. You’re just as guilty as t
he parent who never gets their child immunized from Polio or Diphtheria. You knew the danger existed and you have read in the papers that the danger could affect your family, but you chose to bury your head in the sand and do nothing about it until it’s to late.

  What will you tell your children in 10 years, if a few religious fanatical illegal aliens decide to start setting off some dirty bombs and they turn our country into a dead zone? When your kids ask you why you didn’t try to stop the flow of the known danger, what will you tell them? Will you say that you had to be politically correct and kiss everyone’s ass to make them like you? Well, apparently everyone wouldn’t have liked you and so they turned your once powerful country into a 3rd world shit hole like the one the illegal immigrants came from in the first place. You can tell your children that you stuck your thumbs in your ass and you didn’t do anything, as your child with 3 arms picks his 2nd nose with the extra finger that he has growing.

  I hope you also tell them that this wouldn’t have happened if this country would have taken the advice of a mad man and put a bounty on the heads of every illegal alien that lived here. You could tell them that my idea wasn’t politically correct but if the country had taken my advice, then your kids may be in a college now instead of hiding in the cities sewer system like rats. You can also tell them that this mad man sat on the border with his rifle and shot the illegals at night, as they crossed into America, but that the mad man was probably killed by his own government while it was trying to stop him. At least he was doing something to stop the disease that is flowing into our country. I have to end this story now because there is a group of illegal aliens that were coming across the border and I stopped them all. I have to bury them before the sun comes up and I get caught.

  My Name Is Nobody

  By: Andrew J. Green

  I have a confession that I just have to get off of my chest. It’s been bothering me for a while and I’m afraid to tell anyone close to me because they would be pretty angry at me. First of all, it wasn’t my fault and the guy didn’t get killed but he will surely never be such a jerk anymore and he will walk with a limp for the rest of his life. I’m sure any rational minded person who thinks like me will understand why I reacted the way that I did, and would have probably done the same thing if they knew how to handle the situation like I do. Second of all, I’d like to say that I believe I will get away with the whole thing because this is suppose to be a fiction book and I could just tell the police that I made the whole thing up, if they come knocking on my door.

  Well, I was out of town doing some business that I was hired to do for some people that I work for from time to time. After I had completed the job, I went to a small local bar to have a drink by myself. The bartender and I were talking and he asked me where I was from, because I didn’t have the southern draw that the people in that part of the country have. I lied and told him I was from a small town in southern Canada, near Vermont. As we talked, I heard a lot of commotion in the back side of the bar. I asked who the people were that were over there and if they were locals. He said that they were a loud bunch of trouble makers who came there and spent a lot of money on booze, but would usually end up getting into a fight.

  I don’t know why I am always in the wrong place at the right time, but trouble seems to chase me all over the country. As I watched the group of 30 year olds, I picked out the leader of the pack within 5 minutes or so. He was domineering and would tell the other guys to shut up or else he would beat them up and all of this stuff. He stood about 6’3” tall and weighed about 270 lbs. He seemed like he could give anyone a real run for their money if he got into a scuffle with anybody and the way his friends kissed his ass, let me know that he had whipped their asses a time or two. He was a real good old boy and I could just taste an ass whipping that he desperately needed before he was killed by someone like me.

  I overheard his friends call him Kilo and I wondered where he got that nick name from. Kilo was putting his weaker friends in head locks and giving them noogies and kind of humiliating them just to show them that he was the boss. I would have never instigated anything but the bartender said that Kilo was a local bully and was an asshole to the women in the town. I don’t like bullies to much, so as Kilo was putting one of his friends in a headlock, I walked over to the juke box and acted like I was looking at the selection of music that it had in it. The juke box was about 2 feet away from where Kilo and the guys were roughhousing so I was hoping they would bump into me.

  Sure enough they rammed into me harder than I’d expected and they slammed my leg into the metal corner of the juke box. I acted like it didn’t hurt and I heard one of the guys say, “That had to hurt.” Well believe it or not, Kilo looked at me and said, “Serves him right. He should watch where the hell he is going.” A simple, “Sorry sir,” or “Excuse us mister for that. We didn’t mean to do that to you,” would have been in order. But to insult me was way out of line.

  I looked at Kilo and said, “I’m going to let this slide because you’re to stupid to know any better.” He just looked at me for about 10 seconds before asking me if I wanted to get my ass kicked. I told him that he had a better chance of seeing God, than he had at kicking my ass and that he had better go back to playing grab ass with his friends or he would pay the piper for being a douche bag. One of his friends said to me, “You’d better watch it mister or he’ll put you in one of his head locks and he won’t ever let you go.” I said that I could get out of one of his headlocks in a few seconds and that when I’m done with him, he will remember me for the rest of his life.

  Kilo didn’t like his friends talking for him and he told his friend to shut up, and then said to me that nobody can get out of his headlock if he grabs a hold of them. I said to him, “Then my name must be Nobody”. I then said that I thought he needed to get his ass beaten hard before he tangles with someone like me and that if somebody doesn’t tame him quick, then he could end up getting killed by someone like me. Kilo couldn’t believe I was making such statements since he was almost a foot taller than me and outweighed me by about 110 lbs. I turned my back to him and walked back to the bar.

  Everybody in the bar heard what was said and I knew that Kilo was going to have to do something to defend the reputation that he had. A few moments later, the bartender said to me that I’d better be able to handle myself because Kilo was coming up behind me and he didn’t look very happy. I felt someone shove me from behind and before I knew it, I was in a headlock and Kilo was yelling, “Can you get out of this Yankee boy?” The bartender yelled at Kilo and said that he was going to hurt me. I said in a loud voice to Kilo, “Are you sure you have me real good you country bumpkin?” I felt the headlock tighten and he was giving me a good squeeze. I heard one of his friends say, “Give him a bloody noogie! Give him a bloody noogie!”

  Just as I felt Kilo begin to rub his knuckles on my head, I reached down to my right boot and pulled out my boot knife with a 5 “ blade. I used all of my might and thrust the knife into Kilo’s right leg. I felt the knife pierce his blue jeans and rip through the meat of his upper thigh and then stop at his bone. As soon as the knife stopped, I felt his body tense up and the pressure on my neck almost made me pass out. I then pulled the knife down his leg slicing the muscle tissue, where it stopped at Kilo’s knee. At that time, he released me and he fell to his knees with pain. I then got behind him and with the knife in my right hand and the blade pointing down, I grabbed him by the hair and pulled him toward me as I forced the knife into his right shoulder blade.

  I knew that I went too far that time because as he exhaled, blood began to blow out of his nose and mouth. I knew that I had just taken out his right lung and that he could die. Instinctively, I wrapped my left arm around his forehead and pulled his head back toward me. As I did this, I brought the knife around the front of him and put the knife up to Kilo’s throat. As I bore down on his throat, I said to him, “Goodbye asshole.” Just then at that moment, I heard the hammer of a revolver cock in my left
ear. One of the bar patrons decided to stop what was going on and he said, “Kilo finally got the ass whipping that he deserved, but there isn’t going to be any killing in here today. Now you get out of here now. You hear?”

  For some reason I could tell that the guy was ready to pull the trigger and when I walked out, I was glad he stopped me. I ran to the edge of the parking lot where I parked the car that was rented in a false name that I use, and I drove off. No one followed me nor could anyone have seen the car or what kind it was, because it was very foggy on that night. I called the bar from a different part of the country a month or so later, and asked how Kilo was. I could tell that I was speaking with the same bartender that served me, and he said that Kilo was going to live but that he would walk a little different when the wounds healed. He also said that since the fight, a lot more people were coming to the bar and that Kilo’s buddies’ were glad that Kilo got what everyone of them wished they could have done to him.

  Apparently the witnesses said I was 6 feet tall and weighed around 220 lbs. I wish I was the man they described but I know the police will be barking up wrong tree and I won’t ever get caught. Besides, what is Kilo going to say? That he was nearly killed by a guy who was half his size? He would be the laughing stock of his town. I’m sure the gossips in that town will tell the truth about what happened and Kilo will be a humble man for a long time. I may be the person who tamed Kilo’s attitude and saved his life before he got into a fight with someone like me who won’t stop when a gun is put up to their head. Kilo owes me a “Thank You.”

  Nothing Is Fiction

  By: Andrew J. Green

  In reality, nothing is fiction. Books and movies or fables and legends all came from the imaginations of the minds of men. The battles in the skies between different planets or the fantasies of a frog turning into a prince when it is kissed by a beautiful princess, are all the realities within the mind of men. If they have happened within the mind, then they may be true to the man who possesses that thought, which in turn makes them a factual event. Someone may never visit the far reaches of this universe, but if their mind takes them there, then who are we to say that it isn’t a reality to those among us who are considered delusional?