August 20th, 2002

(no subject)

I wake to a nuzzle at my ear, eyes slowly open to a the blurry sight of red led lights, clock comes into focus, 4:20 am, the nuzzle come again... I close my eyes and ignore it, suddenly a sharp pain in my ear, The Mert has bitten me, cannot ignore it anymore. I sit up in bed and fling my legs to the wood floor, it is cold and the shock wakes me. The Mert steps into my lap and hops to hind legs, sitting like some kind of parrot. In The Merts mouth is a slip of paper... its becoming routine to me now. I take the paper, its is slick with Mert spittle... I open the slip and read the two words on it and sigh. I look to The Mert and he winks at me, turns, and walks from the room. I stand and follow knowing it is useless to resist, many painful lessons later I understand this. The Mert awaits me in the planning room as The Mert likes to call it. The Mert stands atop a silver case, it too is slick with The Mert spittle... he drools when he is excited. I take the box and open it. Inside is the same rifle that The Mert had me kill Ed Answer with, gleaming next to the gun is a single 30-30 shell, overloaded plutonium tipped hollow points filled with e-bola, The Merts personally made bullet. Shutting the box and securing the latches I head for the door, I am of course followed by soft padding footsteps. We drive to a Hotel and set up in a room overlooking the local television station and wait... The Mert sits on the sill as is normal and watches. He whips his head toward me and purrs. Its time. The rifle is comfortable in my hands as I bring it to my shoulder, eye down the scope and search for my target... tension builds in me, I cant bring myself to pull the trigger though I am tracking it across the parking lot. I feel a soft nudge at my finger, looking down I see The Mert staring coldly at me, evil in its eyes. There is no fighting it, sight up again and pull the trigger...POW..... Martha Stewart is dead... The Mert and I go to the car and head back to the safe house. I feel sick as I watch The Mert do what can only be described as, laughing, laughing maniacally.