Lexicon:Glorified murder
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They watch the windows. They man lookout points. They maintain the barricades. They count down the night-time hours. They prime their weapons and ration their supplies and wait for the strike.
It comes from behind.
Go for the important ones first. The leader, the alpha male. Loud-mouthed egotistical tosser, thinks he's got a plan. Well, here's the plan. The shotgun that some poor blonde kid loaded for me just two hours back is emptied in seconds. Discard it, dead weight. Pistol shots scare the rest of them behind cover, and the big lad's gurgling blood. I watch for a few seconds, hovering over him, and laugh. I laugh at his pathetic beliefs, his structure and his rigmarole and his lust for glory, and I laugh. Then a heavy stomp ends it.
Why? Not for the love of violence, or the feeling of playing God. No. Just for shits and giggles. Just because I can.
Citations: Weapons --Bob Boberton TF / DW 22:37, 8 November 2009 (BST)