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Angriest Man Alive

Posted on October 29, 2007
Filed Under The Stories |

To simply try and elucidate how he felt was to try and bring back all those feelings he had no control over when they washed up like a tidal wave intent on crushing everything. He had never been so angry. No that was not true, he had been so angry many times before and on some occasions he had been angrier still. This was not the tip of the iceberg but it wasn’t the whole Titanic-sinker either. This was just high enough on the Richter scale that people would need to be relocated and lives would be lost.

The first major crack came with the breakdown of communications. It became well nigh impossible to get anything out of anybody simply by asking for it. There needed to be rule books and guidelines and polite words spoken at a certain volume before people would even bother to acknowledge that a person other than themselves had a particular need. When that need was acknowledged, instead of attending to the need, every effort was made to dissuade the person with the need from actually wanting satisfaction for the need. Questions were asked that demanded a level of linguistic manipulation that was beyond the grasp of a mere mortal without crossing the line into bare-faced lying. Banks, restaurants, bars, churches – they all seemed to need to know way more information than a person should have to feel ready to part with. It wasn’t just financial stuff either. Social standing was called into play, a person’s friends and acquaintances were brought into the picture and the casual observer would not have been wrong to feel like the common man was getting the shaft every which way he turned.

He had been aware of the breakdown of communication for months before he did anything about it. Like most other people, he felt more compelled to turn the other cheek instead of standing up and be counted a dissenter against social policy. It took anger of a magnitude that would have terrified serial killers and given pause to child rapists to get him to do anything. He was every cinematic character who had been pushed around for too long and decided to do a little pushing back.

When it came time to seek retribution he didn’t feel the need to consult his conscience and confirm that it sat well with his actions. There was no thought, only deed, and it was the type of attention-getting maneuver that film stars resorted to when they were worried that a new project of theirs was not going to turn into the giant money-spinner they had hoped for.

It started with the man who washed his car every day. He had known for a while that the guy was not doing a good job. In fact he seemed certain that the dude was more concerned with porking one of the maids that passed him each morning on her way to and from the store that sold freshly-baked bread over the counter. He spent more time leaning up against the car than he did actually cleaning it.

So that morning, as he did his little mating ritual with the maid, the car’s owner brought a baseball bat to his informal chat with him. With only the slightest smile playing across his lips, the car-washer watched the man arrive. He watched him get to within in striking distance and then his mouth opened wide to make room for the King-sized howl that soared out of him the moment the baseball bat shattered his knee. With a frightened yelp, the maid who had only recently considered the idea of fucking the car-washer ran all the way home. And the man whose car it was stood over the fallen screamer and reminded him why he paid him handsomely each month – to wash his car, not get laid.

That action sorted out the people who provided a service around where he lived. Nobody was willing to go up against the crazy guy with the baseball bat – not when they suspected that he had a valid reason for wielding it.

Except the car-washer.

Turned out that the sound of the single contact between swinging bat and static knee was a lot worse than the end result. For a drunken womanizer his bones were pretty strong and even though the area around his knee swelled to three times its size and he had to walk with a pronounced limp for several weeks after, there was really not that much damage done. He staged the limp for several more months than he actually had to and apart from the occasional stiffness in cold weather he would be fine.

Since everybody knew that he was a slacker who had done more than his share of drinking and eve-teasing, they strongly advised against his taking any further action in the case of the baseball bat and his knee. And he didn’t, because the local cops knew him from a mile away and they wouldn’t ever believe him as the aggrieved victim. So he plotted another way to get back at the rich man who thought it perfectly alright to trample upon the rights of the little guy.

Hs plan involved a razor blade and meeting the rich guy alone in a dark alley. It was a surprisingly widely held fantasy about another man’s testicles and parting him from them. Unfortunately for the car-washer, he was a bully and a coward who got caught eyeballing the rich guy as he walked to his car one day. The rich guy met his eyes with a fiery intensity he didn’t know people with means could manage. Then with the most elaborately languid movement the rich man essayed the action of a baseball player taking a powerful swing with full follow through.

The car-washer thought that maybe his plan for the razor, the rich man’s balls and a dark alley were not the best use of his time. So he returned to pursuing the maid he had been reeling in when the whole unfortunate event with his knee and the bat occurred. Not surprisingly, the maid didn’t want to have anything to do with him. Not anymore. She had also banished the thought she’d had from her consciousness – the one where she considered sleeping with him. So she felt even more repulsed by his advances. The car-washer, the new angriest man alive did not see why the little bitch couldn’t just give it up like she had been on the verge of doing before he went through so much pain and suffering, ‘for her.’

So he went to one of the shady places where an aggrieved ‘man’ could get what he needed to make the sting of betrayal or rejection go away.

Because the car-washer really was a monumental fuck even his acid attack on the maid didn’t cause as much harm as it could have. Still, she was pretty badly burnt. Of course the fog of rage lifted after the attack and the car-washer disappeared into hiding. But not before the anger settled upon another man – the girl’s older brother. He vowed that he would have his revenge the day his sister was better. Thanks to the misadventures of his sister and her good-for-nothing suitor he had become the angriest man alive.

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