What a hero?
"Easy with the salt on the potatoes, but not the eggs." Sam asked ramona. "I'm not like bambi licking a chunk of salt." he commented. Sam was a gentle-hearted man, with always a full belly, and something to say. Ramona laughed, "So what's good? do you like the potatoes? how about them eggs? she questioned.
"I like eggs, potatoes, and chugging excessive amounts of vodka, the kind with the red label, russian brand." he responded
"Sorry, I dont think we have a bottle left." she muttered in a distant voice. Fuck! The beast struck her flesh with the glass of water she had just offered him.
"I'm sorry sam!!!" her voice tempered off as the pain in her side swelled. Then a kidlet entered the kitchen with a questioning look on her face. "Get the fuck out of her before I kill you both" The grumpy man complained.
The little girls face now radiated sadness.
"Don't threaten her." Mommy cried! He rose with a calm expression and the woman walked back, her kid moved in the way of her father. Now footsteps are heard by the females as they console each other. He returns with a 12 guage shotgun, looks straight down the barrel, loads a shell in them with a couple movements of his fingers, glances outside the window, then at the tear rolling down wifey's eyes. He glances down at her crotch and points the firearm at her tits and blows clean through them like butter. Smoke rolls off the steel, smoke goes up through her lungs and back out of her mouth. Suddenly the light dims. The 8 year old is simply motionless. Leaning against the wall of the living room, he drags his recently deceased wife's motionless body against the tile floor onto the concrete, bloody smearing from the wound onto the carpet. Still the child is remaining still, eyes wide open with her hair parted in the middle. She looks dead ahead, with perfect posture.
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