Tales of BLOGTRONIC: Kurt Russell (Part 4)
“You take it outside, boys!” growled Hector. “It’s bad enough you got all queer in my stockroom.” I hadn’t known Hector long enough to become an expert on the wide range of his emotions, but I suspected that his feelings had been hurt, because he was crushing a billiard ball in one of his giant paws.
“Yeah, I’ll take it outside, Hector.” I pointed at Kurt. “By which I mean your heart, outside of your body!”
Kurt sneered. “I’m gonna pull off all your limbs and stick ‘em in the wrong sockets.”
“I’m gonna make your face look like a roadmap of Bloodville, USA!”
“Yeah, well, you’re gonna look like a topographical map of the Asskicked Mountains.”
“When this is finished, I’m going to challenge you to a game of Scrabble, except you won’t be able to play because you’ll be dead!”
“That’s real funny. I’ll be laughing while I’m fuckin’ your sister.”
This really got me steamed. “That’s my job!” I quickly turned to the onlookers. “Since robots don’t have any genetic code, incest isn’t really a taboo with us, in case you were wondering. Plus, I don’t really have a sister. But if I did, we would totally bang and it would be fine and perfectly legal.”
I turned back to Kurt Russell. We looked into each other’s eyes, and the gaze burned with the fiery heat of a shredded Satan taco. “This is gonna be finger lickin’ good!” snarled Kurt. “What I’ll be licking is your blood,” he clarified.
“What, you mean liquid coolant, or motor oil? Kinda toxic, Russell. I don’t think you really thought that one through.”
“Sorry. It’s been a long time since I had a stare-down like this. Most guys piss themselves by now. I forgot what a hard-ass you are.” He looked kind of embarrassed. “You know, to tell the truth, I don’t even really remember why I want to kill you.”
I accessed my hard-drive, and there it was, plain as day…
Bustin’ McChops came out of the crowd and tried to do an impression of a flashback, but he didn’t do a very good job. He sort of waved his arms around and made a whoosh noise while seeming like he was drunk. “Flashback commence!” he shouted.
TO BE CONTINUED.

