Three WordsIn honor of the astonishing array of hardware issues I've been having with my computer this weekend, today's theme is three words:
red
hate
destiny
Enjoy!
P.S. Feel free to leave comments, even if the comment box below says one was deleted. It was comment spam (after only 2 days in operation, we're so blessed) and, thus, had to die.
Stacy : EnoughThe red haze grew before her eyes as she watched the flames lick hungrily at the walls of her home.
"I should get up," she thought, "get the hell out of here."
But she just sat there, consumed with black hatred for those who pursued her. Who had pursued her entire life. Who would continue pursue until she was dead. Her hatred was a live thing, urging her up, out into the cool, night air.
But still she sat there, even as the flames began to sear her skin, hair and clothes. "Fuck destiny," she thought, and closed her eyes.
Laurence : 648,710
"When you see the color red, you will experience so much hate that you will kill the Senator. It is your destiny."
Arthur heard this phrase six hundred and forty-eight thousand, seven hundred and nine times before they stopped the recording and wiped the drool from his chin.
It used to be that you had to loop a recording with a razor and cellophane tape. Now you just hit "REPEAT" on an MP3.
They gave him a gun and a bus ticket. Two days later, he shot four seals at the Boston Zoo.
Hey, nobody said this stuff was perfect.
Ted : Preflight"Hey Red, hand me that spanner would you?" Red looked at the instrument like it was a live adder somewhere deep in the Sahara.
"I don't see it anywhere, Joe."
"Come on Red, just gimme the damn spanner. I hate this job as much as you do, but as soon as we are done here we can head over to The Destiny for a beer and a lap dance."
Red screwed up his courage and reached out for the spanner remembering that just three days ago Smitty and Doug got killed doing this exact same step on the maintenance checklist.
Andy : The FallAs the Explorer 2125 ushered itself into an orbit high above Mars, Captain Garrett was fighting for his life. Commander Stendahl stood above him, grinning, and slicing into Garrett’s flight suit with a razor. With each whisk of his arm, a new wound opened – first fabric, then skin, then blood.
Garrett, struggling with releasing his harness and fighting back, flailed about. “Why?” he asked.
Stendahl pulled his head back and cut clean through his neck. Garrett mouthed the question once more.
He had no reason other than when he read it in a book, he knew it was his destiny.
Michele - Holler Back
"Eenie Meanie, Miney, Moe."
She plucked a medium sized lobster from the tank.
"If he hollers let him go."
She dropped the lobster into the roiling, scalding water. It let out a squeaky hiss; not nearly a holler. Alison thought it sounded more like a sigh. Either way, the creature was now at her mercy.
She used the tongs to pull her victim up. For a brief moment, the lobster thought it was escaping the steam bath. Then Alison dunked it into the pot once more.
"It is your destiny," she growled in a deep, affected voice. And she laughed.
