Their Fault

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I needed coffee.

I needed coffee bad.

The only wish that I had before I headed into the truck stop was that I would not have to look, talk, or interact with another human.

I was afraid that….wait, that’s not quite correct….I KNEW that if someone said “Good Morning” or “Sup?” or ….god I hate this one…“How you doing?”,

I would slay them.

In my mind…

With the speed of a Sardine tin packer on crack, man or woman…I didn’t care, I would rip off their stupid face head, kick them in the nards…after I’ve ripped off their hoo ha’s in my first assault…

I would then tear their heart out with my telekinetic powers, squeezing it like a sponge until it resembles a dirty sock….then, with a razor sharp Hai Karate chop I would snatch out their liver and eat it with some Fava Beans and a nice Kiantee(sic?)

I don’t care if it’s misspelled…deal with it!

And quit changing the subject!

Catching my breath, I would then look at the mangled body as it still stood there. The speed of my rampage so fast…so brutal, that it never had time to fall.

I was still sitting here in my truck. My pillows had won the battle with my hair and left trapezoidal lines across my face.

They never would have done that if I hadn’t been asleep.


I needed coffee and I was worried about slaying someone.

But, for the welfare of all mankind I knew I had to have it. I screwed up my resolve and stepped from the truck.

Just as I stepped from the truck I had one of those moments we all have., or at least those among us that have the “Elite human” genome do…as I stepped down from the truck, a thought flashed thru my mind to grab my mug, as I was going down my trucks steps.

In one movement

Multi-tasking baby!

I remember that as I attempted this highly skilled maneuver, I missed the mugs handle. I remember my foot slipping on the non-slip step of my truck. I remember seeing the dome light flash across my vision left to right and the steering wheel brushing across my palm.

I was falling thru space. download (20)

As I plummeted to my death from a height of 3’, I thought to myself “This is nice…a great start for a day”.


I crashed into the pavement, sending shards of broken pavement into the air, the earth shuddering beneath the impact, birds flying…shrieking into the dark, dark sky!

I looked up from my crater. The truck door was swinging on its hinges, the light from the cab splaying across my body and surrounding asphalt like a pool of fluorescent blood.

I lay there contemplating the dark morning sky and the millions of stars, I was quite happy that it was still dark and that the pavement was cool…and that no one had seen me tumble thru the air.

For their sake you understand…

So quiet right before death I thought.

“You know truck drivers pee in the parking lot” a voice said.

So much for no one seeing me…poor guy.

I looked up from the top of my head. A face was looking down at me. There was a look of concern across the old, grizzled face.

Nosey bastard….

I didn’t say anything.

With my mental abilities, I quickly healed my multiple fractures and ruptured spine.

Those of us from a superior gene pool can do this.

What? You can’t do that…? Bummer

I stood up. The old trucker looked at me in amazement.

I was used to existing among mere mortals so I wasn’t embarrassed by being a living focus of awe and worship.

Then, the old man killed himself.

Right there in front of me.

He asked, “Are you okay?”

Poor poor man….I haven’t had my coffee yet.

I don’t remember it happening, but as I looked down at the old mans mangled body I was kinda surprised that it IS possible to stomp a mud-hole in someone’s ass.

I looked around. I did not see anyone else in the immediate area. Good…no witnesses. If so…I’d deal with them.

But alas, I didn’t have to kill anyone else…just yet.

I needed coffee.

I went into the store. As the door closed behind me a cute voice said “Welcome to the Flying J”, a man’s voice said “How you doing?” An elderly woman
was smiling at me.

My hands clinched. My right eye twitched. My mouth went dry. The coffee was 20’ away.

I fought back my urge to slay everyone at the counter.

I nodded to the fuckers and mumbled “Morning”, but it came out as “Go to hell”

I made it to the coffee counter, my hands trembling. I picked up a large coffee cup and turned to the pots.

“Sorry…cleaning in progress” said the asshole sticky note on the pots.images (34)

I looked at the timer, a faint red cloud passing across my vision, 7:55 minutes left…flashing at me.

Mocking me…

“I’m sorry” another cute voice said. I slowly turned and looked at the girl.

The smile died on her face…

She stammered “I forgot to clean them when I got to work, my baby has blah blah blah…and my husband said blah blah blah, and my car wouldn’t blah blah blah…”

I looked into her innocent fucker eyes.

Hank Williams Jr’s “There’s a tear in my beer” floating thru the air.

She regained her courage and smiling again, she punched me on the arm said “You won’t die”

I thought ‘No…not me”

Then…there was screaming throughout the land, and Hell came to breakfast.

…with no coffee.

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6 thoughts on “Their Fault”

  1. So, you have a caffeine addiction? Well, I’m addicted to writing like this…my sides hurt I’ve laughed so much while reading your post. Thank you…thank you…thank you for the belly laughs!

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