Once Upon a Time...

Saturday, April 14, 2007

before he would become the Angry Veteran, the Angry Veteran was riding his bicycle on a warm summer day, a beatific look on his hairless adolescent face. "Tra-la-la," sang the Angry Veteran, "tra-la-la-la-lee." Smiling benignly, the Angry Veteran approached an intersection and signalled a left turn. The Angry Veteran was always careful to use hand signals, as he was taught "safety first!".

Heedless of the Angry Veteran's signal, a large, black Cadillac hurtled through the intersection and collided with the Angry Veteran just as he was making his turn. It turned his bike into a twisted metal pretzel and sent the Angry Veteran hurtling through the air, where he would come to rest against a very hard stone curb. His beatific smile vanished, and his leg was broken so badly it left him with an unsightly scar he bears to this very day.

The car door opened and a man stepped out. "What did you do to my car?!!!" screamed the driver of the Cadillac, a rotund, heavily-accented Portuguese man indifferent to the bleeding Angry Veteran on the side of the road.

And do you know what happened next?

The Angry Veteran killed that man.

4 comments:

I was just thinking about this the other day.

Do you know why you were just thinking of it? Because it happened on Good Friday. 20 years ago.

That's right. Me and Jesus. You can knock us down, but we'll always come back.

Anonymous said...

I wish you'd spared the Portuguese man and killed Al Roker or Al Sharpton, or som offensive black man.

Tainted~Love said...

Hell YEAH!!!

 
 
 
 
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