home *** CD-ROM | disk | FTP | other *** search
-
- _
- | \
- | \
- | | \
- __ | |\ \ __
- _____________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ _____________
- | ___________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ ___________ |
- | | _/_/_____ | | > > _/_/_____ | |
- | | /________/ | | / / /________/ | |
- | | | | / / | |
- | | | |/ / | |
- | | | | / | |
- | | | / | |
- | | |_/ | |
- | | | |
- | | c o m m u n i c a t i o n s | |
- | |________________________________________________________________| |
- |____________________________________________________________________|
-
- ...presents... Life Sentence
- by The Pusher
-
- >>> a cDc publication.......1990 <<<
- -cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc-
- _______________________________________________________________________________
-
-
- Sidestepping the body, I continued forward.
-
- The hunt was on.
-
- And I'm not the hunter.
-
- They don't think I know what I'm doing, but I'm doing great so far.
- Anything less than great, and I'd be dead. You could ask the guy behind me how
- I'm doing, except he'd have a little trouble responding. His head has vacated
- his body.
-
- I'm running now, down halls I've ventured through many times before. I
- stop to look at a clock. When it hits 2:05, it's more than just the end of a
- day, it means you're one day closer than you were yesterday to finishing your
- sentence.
-
- His footsteps are in the distance. A quick jump around the corner
- provides my temporary hiding place.
-
- I don't know what I'm doing, eh?
-
- I've seen every Chuck Norris movie, so better you believe I know what I'm
- doing.
-
- Guns, teenagers, and high school.
-
- It'd make a great TV show, wouldn't it?
-
- ______________________________________________________________________________
-
-
- Is there anything scarier than being the new kid in school? I've been on
- the fastest roller coasters, seen the most frightening horror movies, visited
- the slums of the world, but nothing compares to Day 1 in your new school. As
- luck would have it, I've been the new kid more than once. I was born in Orange
- County, California. You probably expect me to say that my dad left as soon as
- I was born. He didn't. He left as soon as he was finished with my mom in the
- back seat of his car. So I grew up in a single parent household. We moved
- around quite a bit, and now we're in a middle class community called Stepferd.
- You see, my mom decided that unless I lived in a nice place, I would grow up to
- be a loser like my Daddy (God damn his soul). So she went to night school,
- took some courses, and got a degree in Business Administration. As a result,
- my mother is now assistant manager in a shoe factory in Stepferd. Her dreams
- were attained. A nice house, a nice neighborhood, a nice school for her child.
-
- Yes siree, that school certainly was nice.
-
-
- * * * * * * * * * * * *
-
-
- "Get your face out of there," said the jerk.
-
- I don't why he's yelling at me, the lab period is in full swing, the
- morons are throwing crucibles at each other, the girls are screeching, "Oh my
- God!" a lot (so you know the gossip is heavy-duty), but I guess my snooping
- around the boxes piled on his desk wasn't too appealing to him either. It's
- always good to look around the science lab for goodies. There's always some
- stoner dude looking for something to eradicate his brain cells, and they don't
- mind paying for it. Something very unusual happened next.
-
- "Conformity."
-
- It was amazing, one word from a teacher counting the days 'till retire-
- ment, and the class... well, it just blew my mind how they put down their water
- bombs and meter sticks, and shuffled like zombies over to their desks and sat
- down. I mimicked their movements more out of curiosity than any need to ride
- the docile wave that now surrounded the class. I thought about what just taken
- place. What got into those kids? And more importantly, will it get into me?
-
- I'd be lying if I said that what happened in Chemistry was the first sign
- of weirdness I witnessed at Stepferd High.
-
- It was just so obvious to me. People walked around the halls, with a
- glazed look in the eyes. As if they had all been on drugs. Sure, there was
- the usual horseplay and retards roaming the halls, but there was a very
- unnatural aura surrounding Stepferd High.
-
-
- * * * * * * * * * * * *
-
-
- A few months after we arrived in Stepferd, my mother asked, "How are you
- enjoying Stepferd?"
-
- "Ok, I guess."
-
- "Have you made any new friends?"
-
- "Not really, I haven't found many people with the same interests as me."
-
- "Well, we all know how dissimilar you are. But give it some time, you'll
- soon mesh right in."
-
- There was something else at Stepferd that bothered me. I've been pretty
- incompatible with my fellow youth throughout my life, but at every school I've
- done time, there was always some sort of "weirdo class". Punks, skinheads,
- skaters, hackers, garbageheads, freaky-looking dudes, those were the people I
- hung out with. Well at Stepferd High there are none of these people. Every
- single person at my new school is just "the boy next door", regular guy, John
- Q. Public type. You know, Reeboks, polo shirts, jeans, nice short and orderly
- haircuts. I, on the other hand, wore steel-capped boots, scummy loose-fitting
- pants, t-shirts presenting the most obnoxious and crude bands known to man, and
- to top it all off, I had my head shaved on both sides with a nice bush of spiky
- red hair in the middle. Yet, not one person came up to me, not EVER, and said,
- "Hey, nice hair, faggot." Not one teacher asked me, "Are you trying to make a
- statement?" You would assume it'd be nice to not go through this abuse for
- once, but people are SUPPOSED to say this stuff, and the lack of it alarmed me.
-
-
- * * * * * * * * * * * *
-
-
- Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, months into increasing
- paranoia.
-
- If there ever was a non-entity, I'm it. My teachers don't call on me in
- class, they don't return my papers, they haven't confronted me about my usual
- shaky attendance rate, my classmates look through me, I'm not there. At home,
- it's the same. My mom has forgotten about her son. You may be asking your-
- self, why do I go on? Why don't I just leave? That's my main thought every
- second of every day, but I just can't leave. I can't explain it, but there's
- some sort of metaphysical damnation drawing me back to that school day after
- day after day after day....
-
- By the way, I think I'm losing my mind.
-
-
- * * * * * * * * * * * *
-
-
- I'm in a club. There're lights shredding my head into little pieces. The
- CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY
- music is disco drek, bass heavy. It's the type of club rich kids pay $13.00 to
- CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY
- get in, because it's the "cool place". Why am I here? I hate this music! Why
- CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY
- would I waste the money. Jesus, I don't know how I got here. I can't remember
- CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY
- being anywhere but here. My brain is disintegrating with each thump of the
- CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY
- bass. Please make it stop. There are people moving around me, creeping around
- CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY
- me, they're not saying anything. They're just creeping, and creeping, and now
- CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY
- they're strolling towards me. They're looking towards me, glaring at me,
- CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY
- scattering me throughout this trendo-jerkola dance sanctuary. Why can't I
- CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY
- talk? I know words, why won't they come out? God, make this stop!
- CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY, CONFORMITY
- Conformity, yah....
-
- Wake up. Put on clothes. Brush teeth, brush hair. Go downstairs. Eat
- breakfast. Take pill. Go to school. Smile, be polite, do work. Take pill.
- Come home. Do homework. Take car. Have fun. Come home. Eat dinner. Go to
- sleep.
-
- Wake up. Put on clothes. Brush teeth, brush hair. Go downstairs. Eat
- breakfast. Take pill. Go to school. Smile, be polite, do work. Take pill.
- Come home. Do homework. Take car. Have fun. Come home. Eat dinner. Go to
- sleep.
-
- Wake up. Put on clothes. Brush teeth, brush hair. Go downstairs. Eat
- breakfast. Take pill. Go to school. Smile, be polite, do work. Take pill.
- Come home. Do homework. Take car. Have fun. Come home. Eat dinner. Go to
- sleep.
-
- Wake up. Put on clothes. Brush teeth, brush hair. Take pill. WHERE IS
- PILL? Take pill. WHERE IS PILL? Take pill. WHERE IS PILL? Take pi-
-
- I'm free. Thanks to my mom's absent-mindedness, she forgot the pill.
- They got me with the disco music, and now these pills. It's time to take care
- of business. I will do what I want, when I want, where I want.
-
- Why?
-
- 'Cause I've gone insane, that's why.
-
-
- * * * * * * * * * * * *
-
-
- As a result of my "gang" phase a few years back, I picked up an automatic
- sub-machine gun. I don't know what it's called or how to take care of it. All
- I know is that it shoots bullets really fast.
-
- "Please... they said it wouldn't harm you. Just make you more
- manageable... oh God, don't hurt me, I did it for you. I wanted you to be a
- nice boy, what's wrong with being normal for once. Do you have go against all
- set standards every second of every day?"
-
- Mom had some good points there. I was quite befuddled.
-
- So I shot her.
-
- Unfortunately, I tried to look cool while pulling the trigger, so rather
- than splattering my mom's brains against the wall, I missed entirely and shot
- the refrigerator.
-
- Oops.
-
- I was pretty impressed with her next move. Rather than start whimpering
- against the wall, she bolted out of there. I'm proud of you, Mom.
-
-
- * * * * * * * * * * * *
-
-
- I'm in English class. He asks, "Who do you think is the most treacherous
- character in the book?"
-
- I stood up.
-
- "Gatsby, of course," was my answer.
-
- This time I didn't miss.
-
- The class made a rush for the door. This wasn't all that surprising to
- me, I suppose it's the logical reaction to seeing your teacher's brains on his
- desk.
-
-
- * * * * * * * * * * * *
-
-
- Walking down the hallway holding a deadly weapon, I feel like The
- Terminator. Or is that Roger Rabbit? I can't recall the difference anymore.
- I'm heading for the assistant principal's office. They're not expecting me.
-
- "Well, Tex, you got a whole lotta explainin' to do," said the daring young
- liberator in his best John Wayne drawl.
-
- "Hmm... I should have known there would be some bugs in the system,"
- responded the bad guy, AKA The Assistant Principal.
-
- "Villainous foe, I think you should tell me what you have been doing to
- these poor children," said the crusader for free will.
-
- He sighed. Twice. "If I must... though like the average teenager, you're
- probably too stoned to understand anything anyway."
-
- He had me there. Before embarking on my current mission, I gulped down a
- dozen Flintstone vitamins. Ok, I'm lying, they were amphetamines. The
- corrupter of mind and body continued his speech.
-
- "You stupid immature twit, can't you see we're doing this for you?
- American academics are so competitive, we decided our students needed a little
- edge. So one father discovered that a certain tranquilizer pill, when mixed
- with a certain liquid, can leave the user open to subliminal suggestions.
- Guess what that liquid is? Beer! Ironic isn't it? Their "way of life" is
- making them into Ivy League students! And us... we are truly a SCHOOL OF
- EXCELLENCE! Hear those footsteps outside the hall? That's the Board of
- Education Death Squad. You're gonna be getting more than 2 detentions. God,
- do I hate kids...."
-
- Uh-oh. Unexpected plot twist. But don't worry, buckaroos, I got
- everything under control.
-
- ______________________________________________________________________________
-
-
- Hah! Some Death Squad. Anyone who grows one side of their hair longer to
- cover their balding pate can't be that tough. It's just me and him now. Him,
- the assistant principal, and I, the disruptive student. I think the locker
- room is a good place to make my last stand.
-
- I hear his footsteps. He knows I'm in here. My finger's on the trigger,
- I'll shred to him pieces if he gets in the right place.
-
- "Come and get me, slimeball!" Why'd I just scream that? Damn drugs.
-
- It's show time. I duck and roll, and come up firing. He's not there, I
- kill a tackling dummy. My back explodes in pain. Why? Because he's behind
- me, shooting me to pieces.
-
- My face is sucking the floor, blood is spreading all over, ruining my
- complexion. Ah ha! Down but not out! I know if I shoot that doo-hickey over
- there, the entire school will blow up, giving me victory even in death!
-
- But will it look good on my record?
-
- _ _ _____________________________________________________________________
- /((___))\|The Dead Zone........214/522-5321 Demon Roach Undrgrnd..806/794-4362
- [ x x ] |NIHILISM.............415/285-9453 The People Farm.......916/673-8412
- \ / |Tequila Willy's GSC..209/526-3194 The Bombay............714/897-0412
- (' ') |Lunatic Labs.........213/655-0691 The Works.............617/861-8976
- (U) |=====================================================================
- .ooM |(c)1990 cDc communications by The Pusher. 05/17/90-#138
- \_______/|All Rights Pissed Away.
-
-
- Downloaded From P-80 International Information Systems 304-744-2253
-