Bad Commie!

helping commies get to know knives

My favorite stabbings:
God, Mother Earth, W, Prayer, Poetry, Uptight Nervous Canadian Frostbacks, Debating,
Self Stabbing, Ann Coulter, The Ketchup Prince, Gay Marriage, Fantasy

Wednesday, December 29, 2004
The "Rat"

In mid December, the cold wind blew into Texas. There was something in the air that month, a potentiality, a harshness, perhaps a republicanization of the weather?

Snow fell.


ObT was sitting at his computer, wondering how the communist weather could have been imported from up north. Did a gang of angry vicious mexicans looking to break into the border from the north, instead of the south do it? - he thought. No matter. He would survive. He always did. No matter what. Ever since his former vicious capitalism hating employers deep in liberal unbulldozed lala land had offered him rest breaks in his 100k job, he had had that fatalistic survivor's quality about him. Of-course, being a Texan, he had immediately quit that job when they attempted to unionize his working hours by giving him "resting" time. He knew brainwashing and communism when he saw it. It was only a matter of time before he would have been forced to hand out communist literature during the time the company set aside for his "well being". That's just the way it was up north.

ObT looked outside. Liberal white stuff was falling. Outside HIS house. Why hadn't someone shot it dead at the border? Were the Texans rangers incompetent again? Did Janet Reno order them to oppress another gun owner?

He went to the door. He opened it and looked outside. "Come in you bastards!" He shouted. "I'll stab you were you stand!". Suddenly he shivered. Something was not right. He felt a snowflake stab him in the eye and a shudder made its way to his very core. He could sense that he was not the hunter that day. He slammed the door shut and went back to his computer. The door did not close. There was a 3 inch crack left. And there was his.....invitation......


Whiskers twitched. Red eyes gleamed. A Nose sniffed deeply the scent of Texan happiness. Razor sharp teeth and incredibly sharp piercing fangs gleamed and ground against each other in horrific rage. He had come all the way from UNBULLDOZED CAMBRIDGE.



ObT sat at his computer mindlessly chatting with his terrorist brethren about how he was singlehandedly saving Texas from communism. His mind thought back...
He had hear noises that night as he lay on his mattress, which rested on the floor, unable to sleep. Strange ones. Little hammer rings, whooshing slicing sounds that sounded like they could have been made by a small, extremely sharp sickle, and blackboard and human nail-like tooth gnashings.

Almost as if someone was making a... 5 year plan.... It sounded ridiculous, he knew, but he wanted to share his discomfort, while simultaneously indulging in his false bravado.

Maybe it was a rat??? Of-course!!! Of-course that's what it was! How silly! He went downstairs and put an old rat trap with brie under the stairs, where the delectable virgin Texan pony express bride, currently being matured in his house, would not see it. He exported 2 brides a month to the rich losers up north, and he did not want to ruin their gun smoke Texan purity with rats.


A sharp claw was slowly stroked down the fur of the texan desert mouse. The mouse felt the metallic claw harshly grating against each vertebrae. It went in a little and the mouse felt wetness on its back. "Bring me the cheese" a voice sounded in the innermost recesses of its mind. The mouse slowly moved forward in a stupor to grab the cheese. The trap went off, the leg was broken. The mouse bent its head and with a heavy sigh gnawed off the leg.

It dragged itself and the cheese back to the corner with the very dark hole, leaving a trail of mouse blood. The trap reset itself with no visible intervention with a sharp metallic click.

The pages of chinese food menu rustled and a deep voice grated against the cold air, while the sound of cheese and mouse bones being crunched was heard: "Now....What would go best with cat?"....


ObT lay shivering under the covers. He had just finished threatening that he was going to get a cat to his terrorist mole in the far north. That made him feel slightly better. But now he was scared again. Scared of the dark, scared of the cold, scared of his loneliness, scared of the ....rat. He turned to the wall. He felt and heard, almost in his mind, a sharp little snick. Wetness ran down his back. Somehow a voice formed in his mind: "Here, kitty kitty...". He shuddered at the sibilant whisper with a mocking undertone. He reached around with his hand and groped around behind him. He felt wetness on the floor bed just beneath his back. A shudder of startlement ran through him, veins twitched inside his legs, and the marrow jumped in his very bones. He desperately felt around some more. As his hand moved closer, slowly, the light of the moon shined with a pale gleam and fell upon metallic corroded sharp fangs...

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