Freaks Macintosh Archive/Freaks Macintosh Archive.bin/Freaks Macintosh Archives/Textfiles/zines/fuck/fuckvl01.sit/fuckvl01 Folder/FUCK0010.TXT

Text File | 1993-07-02 | 8KB | 143 lines

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=  F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K.  =
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                    Just Some Wildy Obscure Fiction
                    -------------------------------

This story takes place in a moderately sized Texas town.  One with a college.
One with a Super Cuts.  One with lots of people.  This story takes place.

    He was way overdue on a haircut.  It had grown out way too long.  "What
if I go in for that job interview", he thought.  "This will never work". No
@Problemo.  He'd run down to Super cuts and get a cheap-o 7.95 hair cut. They
weren't the best but they weren't the worst either, and besides he didn't
need anything fancy now did he?  He just needed a haircut.
    Mike got in his old car and left towards the cheap-o hair cut place.
Maybe he would stop by the grocery store and pick up some Little @Debbie
snacks or something.  He needed something else but couldn't remember what it
was.  Oh well, a haircut would be plenty he thought.  He drove for a couple
of minutes, a couple of lights, a couple of miles and arrived at Super cuts.
 "Hi"
 "Hi"
 "I need a haircut"
 "Do you have a coupon"
 "Yeah"
 "Ok come on back"
    As he sat in the chair that went up and down at the pump of a hydraulic
foot pedal he looked in the mirrors at the people around him.  8 chairs were
there.  6 were occupied with people.  Six ladies were cutting their hair.  Two
of the ladies were hispanic, three were white, and one was black.  The lady
asked him twice how he wanted his haircut.  He hadn't heard, he was trying
to see if the other Hispanic lady was as good looking from the front as she
was from the back.
 "Oh, @uhh, just trim it all over.  Just like it is now, but shorter"
 "Sideburns?"
 "Uhh, no"
 "straight across over the ears"
 "Yeah, that would be fine."
 "Ok"
     He was glad she didn't ask more.  He hated for them to talk too much
while cutting his hair.  He once again begin to look around the room via the
mirrors.  He could see the backs of the people to the left of him by looking
off the mirror into the other mirror on the opposite wall.  He saw a guy who
looked like a frat guy in one chair and an ugly girl who looked like she was
in one of his history classes one time.  He couldn't really see the faces of
the rest.  He watched in the mirror as the Black lady dropped her scissors.
That was when the first bullet tore through his haircutter.  He wasn't looking
when it happened, but he felt and saw the blood and skull tissue fly.  He
didn't really hear the shot, it seemed like it came seconds after the bullet.
His eyes had returned to the skinny Hispanic lady who was cutting his hair
as her body was becoming limp and began to fall.

 "Damn good think she didn't poke me with those scissors on the way down."

The thoughts ran obscurely through his head.  The next three shots he pretty
much witnessed in the mirror.  He saw the Black lady take two bullets as
she had just finished picking the scissors back up.

 "I guess it doesn't matter if they are sanitary now does it?"

The other two ladies cutting hair on that side came next.  One was about to
scream and the other was turning towards the entrance to the building as the
bullets flew into their brains.  The scream that was emitted from the White
girl was one he had never heard before.  Almost like a keyboard with a pitch
bender, the bullet entering her head changed the pitch slightly before her
brain quit telling her lungs she could stop screaming.

 "I'll just be real still and hide behind this plastic apron, and maybe he
  won't see me."

His thoughts were still paralyzed.  He couldn't move from the seat if he
wanted to.  The last lady cutting hair, one of the ones closest to the
entrance was the only one left.  He only heard a scream of, "No", before
three shots rang out.  He could see in the mirrors that the pool of blood
from the black lady was now running and about to join with the pool of blood
that was coming from the white lady that lay a couple of feet from her.  It
was carrying with it, bits of wet brown hair that had fallen to the floor
from the frat looking guy.  He hadn't really noticed any of the commotion.
There was only one person waiting on the brown wooden benches by the door.
He didn't know what had happened to that person, and didn't know what had
happened to the people sitting in the other chairs.  More shots rang out.
He guessed that was what happened to them.  Once again, his mind spewed forth
random thoughts.  He nearly laughed aloud when he spied the big yellow blow-
dryer sitting in it's holster.  He imagined himself pulling the big yellow
Con-Air out and wheeling to point it at the assassin.  He nearly did laugh
thinking about this.
     But the sound of silence awoke him from his little thoughts.  He could
hear what sounded like combat boots walking toward him.  He could see in the
mirror it was the gunman.  As he sat still in his chair, the facial features
of the gunmen became clear.  Ok looking guy, fairly normal looking, and
dressed in a T-shirt and Levis.

  "So you were about to get a haircut when I came in huh?"
  "Yeah, I planned to."
  "Hmm, sorry dude.  Guess it's not @gonna happen now is it?"
  "nope"
  "Gee, I..I..I apologize, that was pretty un-cool what I did."
  "Ohh, it's ok, really.  I have coupons for Master-Cuts too"
  "Cool, uhhh well, uhh.  Ok well I'll catch ya later then"
  "Ok.  Uh, see ya around.  What did...uhh... you come here for?"
  "Well I had wanted a haircut, but then I remembered how poor a job they do"
  "yeah, really."
  "Take a look at how bad they did last time. Looks stupid huh?"
  "ahhh, it's not that bad.  I mean... it could be worse."
  "Yeah, I .. I guess your right, it could be. Well I'll let ya run now."
  "Ok... well, uhh catch ya around"
  "yeah, later."

    So Mike went to Master-cuts and there received an above average hair-cut
for around 6.95 plus a small amount of tax.  The gunmen, on the other hand
didn't get his haircut that day.  He waited and went to the same Master-cuts
as Make did.  There he also received an above average haircut.  Probably
not as good as the one Mike received, but still, pretty O.K.
    As the police and ambulance workers hauled off the many bloody bodies,
with large bullet wounds in their skulls, they too agreed that they would
go to Master Cuts to get their hair cut from now on.



Well that's it.  I'm no writer, but then again neither is Bryant Gumble.
She also takes photographs. Never mind.

Zach D. (me) thanks all the bbs (l)users around Lubbock for being cool, and
especially all my bro's at Tech.  Get your guns up.. yeah right..whatever.
Laterz.

5000

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