Midnight Squad: The Grim
Read Midnight Squad: The Grim Online
Authors: J. L. M. Visada
Midnight Squad: The Grim
By
J.L.M.
Visada
Table of Contents
© Copyright 2011
All rights reserved.
Basically,
don’t steal my stuff. I’ve got a pointy stick and too much free time on my
hands. I will hunt you down, and when I catch you…well honestly I won’t do much
because I’m a big
wuss
.
That being
said, I’ll make a character that reminds me of you, and then do incredibly
horrible things to that fictional you.
Yeah you heard me, even the
filthy perverted stuff. I’ll repeatedly torture, traumatize, and belittle my
version of you forever. I might even have your character sexually assaulted by
syphilitic howler monkeys with narcolepsy, and Alzheimer’s. That way they have
sex with you, fall asleep, and when they wake up they forget that they’ve
already had sex with you and do it all over again. Plus you’d get the added
bonus of monkey syphilis…in your butt. Don’t get monkey syphilis in your
butt,
it’s that kind of irresponsible behavior that makes
Jesus cry. So be cool, don’t steal my stuff, and together we’ll fight the
awkward spread of monkey syphilis amongst fictional characters. That
practically makes you a hero…no, not just a hero…a superhero! A superhero that
fights monkey syphilis, and because you’re single handedly fighting against
this terrible disease I’d like you to know that in my mind I’m throwing you a
ticker tape parade.
To
my wonderful wife, who is more wonderful and awesome than I could ever hope to
be.
I love to hear you laugh. Your kind heart brightens my
day. The love you showed me has made me the man I am today. (I swear this is an
improvement.) I’m blessed to just be around you. Plus your boobies turn me into
a drooling mess with an IQ that drops down to the point I should have to wear a
protective helmet and ride the short bus. Thank you for always supporting me.
To my Lord and my God Jesus Christ.
Thank you for not popping my head like a pimple.
Thank you for overlooking that I’m basically a harmless goofball, and seeing
how much I really do love you. Thanks for forgiving all my
sins,
and thank you for boobies. (Mostly in regards to
my
wife’s
boobies, or as I like to think
of them as my own personal amusement park. The others are pretty nice as well
though. Clearly you spent some time on them, and I greatly admire the
craftsmanship.) Thanks for making my wife, and giving her enough patience that
she has never once tried to smother me in my sleep.
Thanks
to my kids. It’s just a shame that you are dogs and cats that can’t read. Bump,
you’re still the best dog ever. Munch, you’re the most loving dog I ever had.
Maybe when you get to heaven you can finally be the little lap dog you always
wanted to be, but here on earth you’re fat ass is too big to let you sit on me.
I still love you though.
Nala
, you’re the most
stubborn cat in the world. I only wish I had video of that flying karate kick
you did to me. Your ninja skills are truly impressive.
Priss
,
I miss you. I hope you’re primping and prancing up in heaven. I still never
figured out if you were really intelligent, or just quietly retarded. Tiger,
give
Priss
hell ‘til I get there. We are still
buddies even if we won’t see
eachother
for
awhile
. Strangely, for some ungodly reason I actually miss
waking up to you sitting on my forehead. I don’t miss you farting on my head
though…not even a little.
To
my Grandma and Grandpa, I really hope to see you both again when my time comes.
Grandma, save me some room at the scrabble table. I realize you’re probably
playing even now, and that being said have me some biscuits and gravy waiting.
I mean who cares if you have high cholesterol in heaven. Grandpa, you were the
most generous man I ever knew. You really lived your life by your own set of
rules. I hope I’m half the man you are someday. I miss the man that knew
everything, even if he was making it all up as he went along.
Finally,
my Dad has looked after me all my life. He sacrificed for me, and pushed me
when I needed it. You always are the coolest dude in the room.
Well
that’s all for the dedications. Except for one last person I want to thank.
You.
Thanks for reading this. I hope you enjoyed it.
If you did then come say hi to me on Facebook at
http://www.facebook.com/jlm.visada
,
and tell your friends.
If you absolutely hated it, well then thanks for
reading it, and as a show of appreciation for your efforts recommend me to your
enemies and I’ll do my damnedest to irritate the shit out of them.
“Get
up maggot!” Somewhere buried deep inside the hangover brought on by vodka,
tequila, and something resembling the blue liquid barbers use to clean their
equipment I recognize that voice. Unfortunately, recognition and remembering
are two very different things. Slower than a cripple running a marathon my eyes
open. Cheap overhead lighting that’s just too bright, and the big brother of
the hangover I had yesterday morning have combined to create the perfect storm
of suck. I want to sleep it off, maybe throw up first, and second, and probably
third. “I said get up maggot! This isn’t namby-pamby fairy princess time! Get
up or I’ll plant my boot so far up your ass that I’ll have to untie my shoe for
you to kiss your mother!” Each word was punctuated with a swift kick to my bed
shaking the bile and stale undigested alcohol a little further up my throat
until I finally leaned over spilling my insides onto the cement floor.
“You
are just the saddest sack of shit I’ve ever had the misfortune of setting my
God given eyeballs on this side of a diaper. Hell boy, with all the brain cells
you killed the diaper is probably smarter! Now get your ass up because God help
me, if I have to tell you again I’ll have your balls as a paperweight, you
whiny
nutless
piece of trailer trash.” Shit, I
remember now. Every morning before school, and every Sunday before church, of
course his choice of words was a little more…fatherly, but it was still every
bit as direct. It’s embarrassing enough to get caught, but it’s even worse when
they send your dad.
“Dad,
let a man sleep a little will you? I’m not a kid, and I have the hangover
from…what the?
Oomph!”
The floor was cold and hard.
Mental note: Discover whoever invented cement, and shoot them…repeatedly…in the
balls. “We’re on the clock, so that is Colonel Wilson F. Peterson, you piss
poor
nutsack
. You can address me as Sir since you are
clearly either too drunk, or too stupid to remember anything else right now!
Just because you have spent the last few months hiding with your thumb up your ass
does not mean you get to forget to conduct yourself appropriately. Now since I
finally have your attention, get your narrow ass cleaned up. You have a job,
and this one won’t involve you sucking off truckers for lunch money.” I’ve been
awake less than two minutes, tossed off a bed onto the floor into my own sick,
and to top it off my head felt like I‘d been blowing a jackhammer. I pushed up,
and tried not to think about the dampness that was moving down my shirt. Yeah,
I can tell it’s going to be a great day.
“Dad
I’m out. I’ve been out since Afghanistan. Remember the whole unfit for duty,
psych ward, electroshock, medication, and best of all
quote
none of it happened unquote. You know that really is the best part of it all
because apparently all that shit I went through, was just in my head. Who knew
I had such a great fucking imagination!” Something hard, a fist or a knee,
hammered into my gut. I fell down to my knees on the cement, body lurching to
spray its contents. I have to say, the man has a strange way of showing he
cares, but I can’t deny he makes his point. All I could do was aim at the
Colonel’s feet and hope nature would take its course. It may not be the best
way to try to win the argument, but I need to buy a couple moments to get my
shit together. He’s
right,
I am nothing short of an
embarrassment. The least I can do is salvage what little dignity I have left.
Of course I’m starting to think dignity walked out on me like a hooker when the
money dries up. My stomach was empty and so all I provided were a few gasping
dry heaves, and a little spittle. In the interest of self-preservation it was
probably for the best since those are the shoes I bought him last year for
Christmas, and he was always unnaturally attached to any Christmas gifts from
the family. He tanned my ass epically when I accidently broke a coffee mug one
of my sisters made for him. “Listen here you little bastard! You do not get to
say when you’re out. You are not out until Uncle Sam zips up his pants and
gives you cab fare. Now get your worthless ass up, and you’d better get your
shit together or I will personally beat the piss out of you and then use you’re
worthless hide to mop it up! If your mother could see you now it’d break her
heart. Hell it breaks my heart. At least be man enough to look me in the eye.”
It hurt to stand. I felt my knees pop and crack as I
stood up and my spine sounded like a kid playing with bubble wrap. Finally, I
was standing eye to eye with the man I‘ve idolized since I was a child. All I
could do is think about how far off the mark I’d gone. I wanted to be just like
him when I grew up, and now look at me. He’s still the hardest, fairest man I
know, and I’m just a walking testament to how bad you can fuck it all up. My
vision stopped swimming long enough to take a good look at him. There was more
gray, and a few more wrinkles. I‘d probably caused those over the last nine
months. “So how’s mom? I meant to call, but… well… things came up. Ouch!”
Something struck the side of my head. I think the old bastard just slapped me.
He was always fast, but I must really be slipping because I never saw it
coming. I didn’t even see a flinch.
“Focus!
Now listen
to me you worthless piece of shit! The United States Government, for reasons
that are beyond me thinks you might still be of some use to our great country.
I am here to bring you in. Now get cleaned up so we can get you bailed out and
we can be on our way.” This was the second biggest ass chewing he’s given
me…that I can remember. At least the first involved my high school girlfriend,
a few beers, and a very pleasant stain on the backseat of his car. I attempted
to take the best professional military posture I could manage, but by any
standard, it was sad. My back was sore from sleeping all twisted up like a stale
pretzel. My shoulders slumped a bit from exhaustion, and I’m pretty sure I
still had a little vomit on my ever growing six o’clock shadow. The painful fog
in my head finally started clearing. “Bailed out?”
Wilson’s eyes became little slits of rage. “What in the
hell is your malfunction boy! Did I stutter? I know you speak English, I
remember signing your report cards! Maybe when I tossed your ass onto the floor
you cracked that ugly melon you call a head.
We…do…not…have…time…for…this!”
Each word was spat out like poison. “You two pencil pushers get in here and
explain everything to this little turd before I snap and beat him until he
falls down and gets crushed under the weight of his own stupidity!” With that,
my stepfather stomped off from the cell and down the hall. Each footfall
somehow sounded louder and angrier. Two men skittered into the room. As they
seemed to be preparing I took time to look at my surroundings. Four walls,
ceiling, and a floor with a very large puddle of last night’s festivities in
the center, clearly this isn’t the Holiday Inn. A thin cot jutted out from the
wall, they built it as one piece. The mattress looked more like cardboard than
a soft, inviting comfortable bed. Phone numbers, slang words, and a various
insults etched the walls. On the plus side, now I knew several numbers to call
if I wanted a good time. The walls, ceiling, and floor were all cement. There
was a drain sitting in the center of the room. Easy cleanup, just run a hose in
here and there would be no trace of whatever happened. It was the most generic
looking jail cell I’ve ever been in during my lifetime. All it needed was a
window with steel bars in it, and some guy that thought I had a “pretty mouth”
to complete the prison Barbie
playset
. I had been
blackout drunk so all things considered, I, and more importantly my butthole,
are
very thankful I hadn’t been stuck with a roommate.
