Oh…this wasn’t looking too pretty for the guy with the nineteen-seventy-two Jeep Commando. Dennis shakes the bottle of permanent spray paint; shit cost him almost twenty bucks, so it should be worth every last cent. Otherwise, the manager of Home Depot better prepare for the never-ending hurricane of his fury, that would REIGN down upon that pathetic establishment && all its employees.
‘That’s what you get for taking MY spot. Asshole.’ He says with a chuckle, leaning his head back to admire his masterpiece. I FUCKED YOUR MOM it reads, across the body of the truck, in girly cursive.
OH, THIS FUCKER COULDN’T BE SERIOUS. This stranger was about halfway through his handiwork when he exited the liquor store, booze and cigarettes in hand. He purses his lips for the moment ( he would put on this performance of keeping cool, at least for the moment ), feeling all patience with the world leak out like water between PARTED fingers. Calmly, he puts his fresh box of cigarettes in the pocket of his leather jacket, setting his bottle of jack on the sidewalk ( he will retrieve it later ) before CALMLY walking over, and without giving much time for Dennis much time to even REGISTER that someone was standing near him, slams him directly in the jaw with a tight fist. ❝Yeah? Wanna tell me more about how you fucked my ma’, you little punk?❞
