Written by Sophie Ramshaw
Tony Roffman was a bit of an asshole. Not for any one specific reason. Just in general. He knew it and so did everyone else. So it didn’t come as a surprise to him when a small group of prideful and respected townsfolk arrived at his house one morning with their complaining faces armed and ready. He opened the front door with a flamboyant swing and let out an obnoxious and repulsive belch.
The townsfolk stared back at him, unimpressed.
'I didn’t know I called the Village People,' he said, smirking to reveal a layer of yellow teeth with greasy cheeseburger remains still prominent in sections.
'Tony,' began Amanda, 'we need to talk.'
He was barely listening. Far too engrossed in staring at Amanda’s cleavage popping out from under her tight sweater to notice anything else. Her chest swayed a little as she thumped a cricket bat in the palm of her hand. His grin became thinner and he let out a deep, throaty chuckle under his breath.
'Hey!' shouted Dave, the town pastor. A total cock-blocking douche-bag in Tony’s eyes.
Tony shifted his gaze from Rosy and Rebecca (the names he had given to Amanda’s breasts) and faced Dave. 'Hello, father,' he said with a bow.
'Amanda, get behind me.' The priest held out his arm and gently pulled the girl to his side. Dave wasn’t a particularly strong man, and the priest outfit did little to help his already rather un-intimidating image. 'Now listen here, Mr. Roffman,' he continued. 'We don’t want to exacerbate this, but this here is a nice town and we don’t want anyone destroying that. If you continue with your disruptive behaviour, I'm afraid we're going to have to take matters into our own hands.'
Tony cackled in response, spit spraying Dave’s face, and the hot smell of rotten kebabs and flat beer wafted from his mouth. 'All you panty-wearing, Jesus-loving, goody-two-shoes ain’t gonna do shit!' He leant against the door frame and made a show of scratching the crack of his ass and smiled at the disgusted faces of the mob. Noises of revulsion were heard throughout the small crowd. He considered bringing his fingers to his nose and taking in a large whiff just to see the further horror on their faces, but ultimately decided it wasn't worth it.
'Tony,' said Dave, causing the man to briefly look up. 'If you don’t leave, things may not go well in your favour.'
'I’ll leave,' he replied flatly, creating a sea of stunned and incredulous faces. 'That is, if the dear old priesty-kins here kisses my big, hairy ass!' He turned around and slapped his backside at Dave while hooting away like a manic clown.
As Tony went to stand up again, still in the midst of a severe laugh attack from what he thought was one of his best jokes yet, Dave brought forward a sharpened pole, making sure the pointed end aligned perfectly with the middle of Tony’s rear. He plunged it forward with one swift movement and the pole went directly inside the man, popping through the seat of his pants and causing blood to spurt from the pierced skin. The pole rocketed through him, impaling Tony on his own porch like a spit roast. The faint sounds of his muffled screams could barely be heard as the tip of the pole exited his mouth and stayed there, jutting out like a broken bone.
'Well that’s that then,' said Dave, clapping his hands together and waiting for the pain-filled gurgles to die down. He turned to Amanda, who smiled and whipped out a small notepad. He grasped the bottom of the pole and tugged it free with a juicy squelch and held it up triumphantly to the crowd. They cheered and he nodded humbly before straightening his neckband and patting the spurts of blood off his chest with a small handkerchief. 'Who's next on the chairman's list?' he asked.
Amanda looked down at her notepad and nodded, circling the fourth name down. 'A homeless man on Gabriel Street who has been flashing women as they pass.'
Dave nodded. 'Off we go then.'
They all hummed and sang as they walked off down the street, making their way to Gabriel Street where hopefully this next one would be smart enough to accept their terms.
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