The Last Gargoyle
—Friedrich Nietzsche “Art
is the proper task of life.”
Happiest larks in the meadow are the
idiots. Look at one of ’em sometime and tell me I ain’t spot on. I know … I
know, I’m not supposed to think it, but that don’t make it any less truthful.
If somebody go and call you a moron how that make you feel? The whole ‘created
equal’ deal didn’t take into account the fact some got blessed with big brains
and some hardly have the sense God gave a goose. I’m not all bad. I usually
don’t pick on the less fortunate just because I can. No. I’m all about
challenges is all there is to it. I live in a free country and choose to
befriend fellas who can maintain their end of a conversation. So I’m the first
one to admit I got ugly when a nitwit somehow figured he good enough to
befriend me.
I didn’t see it coming ’til it was too late. The janitor wiped his nose on my sleeve. Not acceptable in my world. Oh, nobody seen him do it, but they sure heard me. I called him a thing or two. I just so happen to pack a thing called a temper, not that that’s an excuse or anything. Boy, let me tell you I felt like I got it all wrong in no time flat. It was like everyone thought I should be kind and understanding and not defend myself at all. Well, I stared down the simpleton, realizing I couldn’t hate him anymore even if I tried really hard. He was grinning, but not over anything he’d just did. Grinning seemed to be his preferred manner. The whole thing just bugged me enough to not go to class. I mean I’m not going to sit in class watching snot dry on my sleeve. I got pointed in the direction of my van, but flopped down on the first bench I passed. I sat tight, visualizing the act of vengeance that went from a slap to mowing down nitwits with my van. The pint of vodka came in handy. It helped fuel thoughts of what I’d do to equal the score. Before I got going again, I had decided I would avenge this great wrong. How this was to be done I did not know.
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