The Flake

1 Sep

old coke ad

I wrote this after reading a nasty passage in American Psycho. This is a FICTIONAL EXERCISE and is not about you.

I just want to stroke her long black hair. Feed the tips into those jagged steel teeth at the top of an escalator so it rips the hair and the scalp off and leaves a wet screaming red skull.

Cave in her face with a golf club. I just want to take her camping in the forest like we talked about. Sequoia. Duct tape her to an eponymous tree and target practice slowly from 25 yards with the Ruger 10/22 Takedown 50th Anniversary Edition. Start from her ankles and go up and up and up for as long as it takes to exhaust my bulk pack of Aguila Super Extra high velocity copper plated solid point. Just want to take the Fermin Iberico Pork Dry-Cured Salchichón and the Palacios Picante Chorizo Authentically Crafted in Spain I purchased as part of the enormous and enormously expensive charcuterie assortment for what would have been our beach picnic today, which was her idea, which I said yes to, which she has just now flaked on, and violently and deeply double penetrate her with the two boutique $15 sausages while she’s restrained. And I wasn’t sure which one would get her ass. But obviously the slightly thicker and somewhat spicier Picante. I now own over $100 of cured meats and cheeses from the rich people grocery store. Keep one of the organic mangos Manila I also purchased– because she doesn’t like strawberries– stuffed in her craw so the neighbors can’t hear, leave a screwdriver on the gas burner to put Black Angus Steakhouse artificial grill marks on the soles of her feet…

Or just back the Subaru over her head, why make it a whole project. Just say hey can we meet for five minutes. Something to tell you in person. Sure no problem we can get a raincheck but let me drop off the earring you left here. When she opens the door throw a full right cross in her chops. Take care to rotate my wrist and clench extra hard at moment of impact, swing through the bag rather than at the bag, one max power hip swiveling foot pivoting perfect right and hear the ref start to count and the roar of the MGM Grand crowd and magnesium flashbulbs popping off. Here’s your fucking raincheck you cunt. But I’ll text back “OK.”

3 Responses to “The Flake”

  1. Nikolai Vladivostok September 1, 2020 at 9:03 pm #

    This is the kind of thing you suddenly go back and unpublish or lock every time you get doxxed.

  2. Eric Shun, CPA September 1, 2020 at 11:03 pm #

    i just realised that “china” rhymes with “vagina”. lulz

  3. maryzoso September 2, 2020 at 1:23 am #

    That is just chock full of very satisfying imagery.

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