socal madness part 3

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the early spring and summer passed with little change from any other early spring and summer. the three friends sat and drank each evening in the soft summer evening light of southern california. the summer progressed into the hot damp nasty dog days of august. the time when sleep was fitful and restless at best. the thumpity thump of the weekend car traffic made it even worse. sleep became a rare and precious commodity. for the three old friends the lack of sleep, once again, became a part of their daily evening conversation.

‘man, this heat and humidity is killing me. i can’t sleep. when i do doze off the chumps and their car stereos jolt my old ass wide awake.’
‘yeah, it’s a never ending cycle this time of year.’
‘you boys had enough?’
‘enough of what?’
‘oh, shit, he’s back on that again?’
‘what do you think? of course i am. you think i want to end up like my old man and piss my pants every time i take a leak? stuck with wearing a kotex in my underwear for years, until i finally die? no, thanks. i’m not going to out live my future. i’m not doing that. there comes a time when what’s the point? it’s quality not quantity. i mean to take some of these assholes out. if i die, fine. if i get caught the state can keep me in kotex till i die. fuck it. the state ain’t gonna catch me. no way. i’m fucking doing this. if you guys help, it will be a piece of cake. if not, well, i’ll manage. somehow.’

as usual the other two friends just sat there and looked at each other. neither saying a word for what was probably half an hour. finally one of them spoke.
‘ok. yeah, pants pissing. jesus. i hear you. life just sorta gets worse and worse. daily shit goes down the tube faster than an unassisted hard on disappears.’
‘ain’t that the truth? it’s not like we have much going for us. i mean other than this. and this is just, well, getting to the point of, sorry, just some sort of sewing circle type shit but with drinks.’
‘sad but true. ok. looks like we are signing on to this madness of yours. what the fuck?’
‘i guess we are. seems like we may as well. i don’t want to end up stinking of piss and shit in my really golden years. fuck that. either a blaze of glory or the state can deal with my sorry ass. either way, i don’t care.’
‘yeah, seems like that’s the case. ok. count me in.’

they rose as one and touched bottles or glasses together and sealed the insane mad plan.

to saner men, this pact, seemingly dredged up from the bowels of hell would have given them pause. why should lack of sleep and the stupidity of the young, along with the fears of the old, make anyone want to kill? indeed, why? to those three men the answer would be, why not? why not, retaliate against the rampant madness all around them? why not take out something that is nothing more than a cancer on the breast of society? take out something that is abhorrent to any civilized man. yes, so it seems, the mad plan had some legs. madness, seemingly coming to a head. the one who’s original plan it was shook his head and said, ‘finally.’

several days passed until the madness was spoken of again. ‘ok. look, we need a rehearsal before the harder stuff goes down. i have someone in mind. you guys know who it is.’
‘yeah. tell me about it. i know. ha ha. the asshole who every morning before 6am has his car radio blaring for 5 or 10 minutes in the garage while god knows what the hell is going on in his house.’
‘right on, my brother. it’s that dumb fucker.’
‘ha ha. i’m with you on that. sure, we should have done him long ago. sorry ass inconsiderate fuck that he is.’
‘ok. look. we do this guy first. it ain’t gonna be easy with the early morning light but we have history going for us. we have the real early morning assholes then there’s a break until this dick rolls out to work. we have a window of maybe 5 minutes, way more than enough time for the deal to go down. i say we go monday morning. agreed?’
‘ok.’
‘yeah, sure.’
‘solid. we go monday morning.’

sunday night the three now totally insane friends met for the evening of patio drinking. ‘alright. the asshole starts his car and has the car stereo blaring. he goes back in the house for 5 or so minutes.. he comes back out and leaves. when he comes out i’m in the garage and i double tap him. we toss him in the car and drive away.’
‘i like it. man, like you said the car stereo covers the .22 shorts.’
‘yeah, we should have done this piece of crap long ago. what were we thinking?’
the reply came in unison, ‘damned if i know.’
‘one thing though. we need to police the brass.’
‘oh, shit. yeah, we sure do.’
‘piece of cake. i’ll just attach some nylon stocking thing to the ejector and let it catch the brass. lots easier than fumbling around on the ground trying to find it.’
‘sounds good.’

so, the next morning the three friends were up even before the rat bastards and their car stereo insanity began.
‘ok, first thing. we all wear gloves.’
‘yes.’
‘right.’
‘i cap him. we toss him in the car and you drive him a couple of blocks away. you follow and bring him back. remember to lock the car and be sure the windows are rolled up. then you guys drive over to the super wally’s mart and toss the keys in one of the dumpsters out back. or down some drain someplace as you drive by. don’t matter, just get rid of them and make sure no one sees you.’
‘solid. no problem.’
‘i hope so. if we pull this one off, we are in. the late night early morning stuff will be a piece of cake.’
‘right on.’
‘let’s do it.’

thirty minutes later the man who did the same thing each and every morning started his car in the garage and left it there with the radio blaring. it was only a few minutes before 6am, but of course he, being an asshole, was totally oblivious to his own rampant stupidity. it was to be his last morning of such utter disregard for his fellow neighbors. as he stepped from the house and into his garage two barely audible shots rang out. the dumb ass was dead before he hit the ground.

the two other friends quickly gathered him up and tossed him into the front seat of the car. with the garage door closing one of the friends drove off with the radio still at ungodly levels for any time of the day. the other friend followed. three blocks to the east they found a quite residential street and left the car with the dead asshole stuffed down on the floorboards of the passenger side of the car. locked it up then dumped his car keys in a storm drain two blocks further east.

the whole sad affair was over and done within 10 minutes, tops. the three friends gathered at a local ihop for breakfast to celebrate and discuss their mornings work.
‘boys, like i have been telling you. simple easy. right?’
‘yeah, easy as pie.’ ‘ok. when do we start for real?’
‘let’s don’t get too greedy. we wait for a day or two and see what happens. then we go for it.’

jmh

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