I tore into my stocking with gleeful abandon.

I tore into my stocking with gleeful abandon. Would there be cash, candy, trick new gadgets? Hmm, let's see: socks (meh), toothbrush (retch), nail file (pshh), fruit (gag), dishrag
(sigh), a packet of slightly used tissues (eww), a bag of half-eaten cookies... Yeesh! I wasn't "that" bad all year, was I? I gulped. Unless you count the time that I stuffed the
Thanksgiving turkey with rat poison, one could say I did a pretty good job this year. Used tissues didn't seem like a justifiable reward for how much control I had over my
urges to kill. The poisoned turkey was fed to all of my relatives. They THOUGHT they had eaten so much that they'd gotten sleepy. But I knew better and smiled as they laid down and
drifted into a deep sleep...an eternal sleep. The deed was done, and I had my henchman clean up the poisoned food and the bodies of my relatives as I
Laid there playing dead. The henchman looked for the diamonds, but found none of them. His map was all wrong,.again. Argh!
"You are all bloody idiots! The boss ain't gonna be too happy," one of the burly men shouted from the other end of the cave. "H
ave you any idea the amount of effort that went into setting up this job? Why the hell am I asking you mooks? You're mooks, you don't know your elbow from your wife's ass? The boss
chomped down harder on his cigar as he surveyed his mook-filled office. There was a time when he would have just killed them all. Started over from scratch. But henchman were a
commodity and he never walked away from equity. So he built a cabins for his henchmen out in the parking lot and called it Camp Goon. Oh, the songs they sang, out in the night.

Started: 2013-12-30 14:23:53
Finished: 2017-07-23 11:19:33

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