 |
|
|
         |
 |
|
By: Moth Man Jack was in hiding up in his loft for quite a long time. He awoke (with great distaste) around 8:30. It was 4:00 now. Kraig brought all of Jack’s shit from the party and chilled up in the loft for the first time just to give Jack some company. “Hey, Kraig. How’d you guys know I wanted all that shit? Crowbar, sledgehammer, axe and hatchet. What the fuck gives man?” “Nigga, we can see your damn shrine covered with weapons, plus all the ICP music you play occasionally.” Jack chuckled having a secret lying within the “shrine”. Kraig laughed too because he thought it was ironic. They gave each other pounds and fell silent. Kraig broke the silence. “Man, you my Nigga and I gots some shit I need to get off my chest but this is the type a thing I cant tell my pops…and it’s not all good.” Jack paused a second to prepare to rollup a big ass blunt, “ Yeah. What’s on your mind?” “Jack man, (hmmmmph). I was, I mean- aaagggghhhh! God damnmit, I was givin some crack today man!” Jacks eyes where cold. “What?” “Man this kid was walkin around, he’s a prep without a fuckin doubt. But he walked up and he gave me it. He said, ’I want more, call him up.’ He gave me this real gay ass business card.” “You didn’t smoke it did you?” Jack voice had a touch of coming malice. “No.” “Why?” “I didn’t want you on my ass dawg, shit! That and I’m way too fuckin scared.” Jack calmed down even though you couldn’t tell he was pissed on the outside. Kids who look rich have no right to be sellin crack, heroin, or any other drugs. Soon as you make it get yourself out of the game: Jack was curios. Jack put his attention on his blunt, “You got it on ya?” Without any hesitation Kraig pulled out the bag of white powder and lobbed it onto the table. And he also gave the card to Jack. Doug N. Likas His grandpapy was a Nazi bitch. ‘nough said. “Likas is the head of the KKK chapter here. His Father anyway. Lets make a phone call.” Kraig started to not like the looks of this. He shook his head no but no one says no to Jack when he wants something. Jack has a few ninjas on the inside of everything. Even in the highest of authority. And I mean THE HIGHEST. Jack walked over to his indoor pay (less) phone. Dialed up the numbers and waited for the tone. “What are you gonna say to them homie? “It’s what your gonna say,” Kraigs blood ran cold,” I need your help so tell him to come to that run down pizzeria down the block.” Kraig set it up that Likas would come there at Midnight, Jack’s hour of power, and to bring $20 worth of crack. Later that night Jack brought his crowbar to the roof of the pizza place and waited. He felt something really really odd. It felt like the darkness of the night was giving him strength. Blank thoughts and that really eerie feeling over come him, the sense grew by every second. Jack did no drugs ( unless you could consider the bud a drug ) so there could be no absolute reason for this…thing to be happening. Suddenly he began to see vision. A cemetery-underground-in crypts-in tombs and graves- the souls aren’t leaving and growing more and more insane. Between each visions was one-one of the Joker’s cards! The feeling and visions stopped. 10 Blazing white cars pulled up. All that got out was white hoods…KKK. They where looking everywhere for Kraig. “Where the fuck is that filthy Nigger!” Jack was nervous but it got calmed. A fluorescent, glowing mist emitted from no where surrounded Jacks arm and formed an axe. It became solid and there he gripped an axe. The green mist came back and brighter than ever. Went into Jacks mouth and into his blood. His face became painted as a killer clown. He stood up, dropped the crowbar, and let out a mighty laugh that bellowed across the city. Juggalos from no where poured out of the allies and buildings. Hatchets and painted faces. Jack leaped from the roof. Nitro is on. All Hell broke out of the gates and war began. One of the rag men pulled out a hand gun and fired a round at Jack. Green electricity took over Jacks body as if it were armor. He lifted up his ax and split the bullet in two. They flew off to the sides and hit to other rag bitches right in the heart. Some of the Juggalos took the one on one and stained their robes with their own blood. There had to be 50+ Knights there, and maybe only 25 Juggalos. But as all knows WE are some fierce ass ninjas. When it was about over the last one alive has an amputated knee cap and couldn’t walk. As the Juggalos gathered around him, Jack crouched down. “Do you renounce the hate you stand for?“ “We don’t hate, you god damn nigger lover. That Fucker is gonna die! He set us up!” That eerie glow of the mist filled Jacks eyes. He rammed his fingers up the hooded bastard and ripped out his jaw. Swung his ax so that it chopped off the Knight’s head and arm so they where still attached. He held it up above his head and spoke: “Juggalos. I am known as Jack. I have No other name! I have had a vison that I don’t know what it means, but I know it was straight from the Dark Carnival! I have a mission before me. But since we are family, when you hear my psychopathc laugher in day or night, come and join me in bloodshed of hate , greed, sin, and evil!” The juggalos chanted and partied all night after that moment and they would forever rember his battle cry. Next time: Wash the axe.
|
|
|
www.hatchetrydaz.com, and all related indicia, including images, text, and other media contained within this site, are copyright 2002 HatchetRydaz. Don't make us slap your face off. Website design by Gothic Graphiti, Oshkosh, WI.
