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Date Posted: 17:37:23 07/17/01 Tue
Author: jon
Subject: Re: a story i wrote for you, my fav band;death takes a piss;
In reply to: Im a lying shit! 's message, "a story i wrote for you, my fav band;death takes a piss;" on 15:55:40 07/17/01 Tue

>So there I was, takin' a whiz, just mindin' my own
>business. I heard this guy come in behind me, but I
>didn't pay any attention; it ain't like I keep a
>running tab on everybody who uses the urinals in this
>building. Ain't none o' my concern, is what I'm
>sayin'.
>
>I could see the guy outta the corner o' my eye. Looked
>like he was wearin' all black or somethin'. Ain't
>nothin' unusual, I thought. It's an office buildin'.
>Everybody wears black suits. Then he sets his scythe
>against the wall, between his pisser and mine.
>
>Yeah, his freakin' scythe. That got my attention, I'll
>tell ya that for free. I turned and looked at the guy,
>and I realized he was a damn skeleton. I mean, all I
>could see was his face and hands, but they were just
>bones, with no skin at all. No muscle or nothin'. He
>fiddled around inside his robe like he's pullin' out
>his wanger, then he stepped a little closer to the
>pisser and I heard water hittin' the urinal, like he
>was pissin'. Like Death was takin' a friggin' piss
>right next to me, is what I'm sayin'.
>
>I was still drainin' my lizard, but I decided right
>then to just choke it off and haul my butt outta
>there. I didn't even realize I was still lookin' at
>him until I was zippin' up and he asked me, "See
>somethin' you like?" I was pretty surprised to learn
>that Death had a Southern accent, I'll tell you that.
>Especially here in Trenton freakin' New Jersey.
>
>I think I mumbled somethin' like "No, sorry," and got
>ready to book out the door when he asked me, "Ain't
>you gonna wash your hands, Lenny?" Now, I knew that,
>being Death and all, he would naturally know who I
>was, but it still shook me up a little.
>
>"Uh, yeah, thanks," I said, and headed back to the
>sinks, tryin' my best not to look at him.
>
>"One other thing, Lenny," he said, "Sorry to bother
>you, but could you tell me where exactly Carl Atchison
>works?" He was still pissin', rockin' back and forth
>on his heels and lookin' dead at me. If you'll pardon
>the expression.
>
>"Uh, Carl?" I asked. "Short guy, goin' a little bald
>like me?"
>
>"Yeah, that's him."
>
>"Yeah, uh, he's up in Personnel. Fourth floor. I don't
>know what office."
>
>"Ok, thanks," he said, and fiddled around in his robe
>some more. Then he walked over to the sink beside mine
>and started washin' his big skeleton hands.
>
>I wanted to get outta there like you wouldn't believe,
>but I gotta admit, part of me thought it was pretty
>damn cool, standin' there in the bathroom washin' my
>hands and havin' a conversation with Death. He seemed
>like a pretty regular guy, so I decided to talk to him
>some more.
>
>"So, uh, you're Death, huh?" I asked him feelin' like
>a moron. I just couldn't think of anything better to
>say, y'know what I mean?
>
>"Yep, that's my job. My friends call me Joe, though."
>We both finished washin' up and headed to the air
>dryer by the door. "And you're Lenny Baker."
>
>"Yeah."
>
>"Man, I hate these things," he said. "Why can't they
>put some damn paper towels in like they used to? I
>ain't got time to stand around under this wussy little
>thing, y'know?"
>
>"Yeah, I know what you mean. I usually just shake 'em
>off and dry 'em on my pants leg."
>
>He laughed. "Yeah, I hear you." He wiped his hands
>across the butt of his robe. "Good thing about wearin'
>black all the time. Nothin' shows up on it."
>
>"I guess not." He was headin' towards the door, so I
>said, "Hey, Death, don't forget your scythe."
>
>"Hell," he said, turning back, "I'd forget my head if
>it wasn't tied on. Thanks. And I told you, my friends
>call me Joe."
>
>"Um, okay, Joe." That part of me that thought this was
>all cool was pretty happy about that. I was Death's
>friend. I couldn't wait to tell the wife.
>
>"Well, take it easy, man," he said.
>
>"Hey, Joe, wait a minute," I said real quick, before
>he could leave. "Look, I'm sorry to bug you again,
>but…well, are you gonna kill Carl?"
>
>He turned back around and looked at me. "Man, to tell
>the truth, a bad plug's gonna kill Carl. Just shock
>the snot out of him. But I'll be there to collect him,
>yeah. Why?"
>
>"Just wonderin'. I kinda like Carl, is all."
>
>"Sorry, man. I don't know what to tell you."
>
>"It's okay. Just doin' the job, right?"
>
>"Yep." He opened the door to go.
>
>"So is he gonna see you comin'?"
>
>"Yeah." He didn't turn around this time. "Everybody I
>pick up can see me right at their time. That's how it
>works."
>
>"Well, then, why can I—" I started, but then I slipped
>on a wet spot and fell. Next thing I knew, I was
>standin' over myself, lookin' down at my own body. My
>neck was cocked at a weird angle. I figured it out
>pretty quick, though. That bastard didn't even warn
>me.
>
>"'Cause Carl's not the only one I'm here for, buddy."

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  • Re: a story i wrote for you, my fav band;death takes a piss; -- jon from pignut, 17:40:31 07/17/01 Tue
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