St. Valentine's Day Massacre (The Counterpart)

"Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people
Power to the people, right on "
--- Power to the People, John Lennon

"Nice," I said as I took my headphones off. I was sitting in my room at my desk, but I decided to get on the bus and go to Home Depot.

"Drills?"

"Aisle 3."

"Thanks."

I bought a drill. I think only I can understand this one. I was going after Omega Superior. And his mother. I had a dream about him and he made fun of me. Nobody insults me. Dead men tell no tales.

I went to Regal Cinema. That's where Omega Superior takes girls on dates. I saw his mother near the entrance. She was sitting by herself at a table. She saw me and ran.

"She acted rather quickly. Perhaps too quickly. Some might say she is too hasty in this endeavor and has no real reason to act in this way," I said to myself as I pulled a gun out my pocket.

I shot her. I felt happy. Not too happy though. Not the definition of happy. Definitely not.

People stared. She writhed. She died. I proceeded to the theaters. People tried to stop me, but I pulled out my drill and they backed away. I ran into "Black Swan" because I knew Omega Superior would be there.

He was. He was in the back row. He had a girl next to him. I stopped and stared.

The ease and finesse with which I leapt over his head, I cannot explain to you. I won't even try. I was in my element. Plain and simple. I was Aquafina amidst a tempest. All I can explain to you with any degree of finery and justice is the terror on his face. As I stood upon the back of the chair in front of him, and stared deeply into Omega Superior's face, this is what I saw:

His mouth was a hole. A knot, if you will, because he was a tree. He was petrified wood. Petrified in the sense that his face legitimately seemed to have been in this particular contortion for centuries, and would continue to do so for eons and eons. Until Paul Bunyan disembowels the forest in which he resides somewhere in eastern Tennessee. The lines. The lines that cracked his face into fragments momentarily frightened me. I hadn't seen so many lines since I was auditioning for "Les Miserables." All joking aside, they were plentiful. They barely allowed for the portals of his face to exist and perceive what was happening to him. The irrationality of fear. These were the ramifications (I can't take credit for that one):

In this position, perched atop a tottering Regal Cinema comfy chair, I remained for five seconds. Not a fraction longer. The exact moment I noticed his eyelids amplify and reveal a hint of gleam from the towering screen behind me, I plunged. I plunged my drill into his knee. That scream. Ah, that scream!

Hahahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!

Ah.

I sit back now, like many a magnanimous artificer before me, in a cell. Recalling my tales. Unloading my burden. Gather round everyone, the festival has just begun. Omega Superior is still out there. He lurks in the corner of your subconscious and urges you to act. Do.

Happy Valentine's Day!!!!