Bad as Fuck Read Free

that is nothing but a series of rejection letters from TNF is a new low even for you.  It's such a shoddy story; I refuse to subject my readers to such an obvious gimmick.  Let me advise you that a story contains a narrative.  And this contains none.  Unless you count this being a chronicling of your swift descent into madness as a narrative.  In which case I would suggest you present this story to a psychiatrist rather than to any publisher. 
               
    William Pauley III
               editor of The New Flesh
               
    Jason, 
               Before you even consider submitting to The New Flesh again please allow us to reject you in advance.  Nothing you have ever written or will ever write will be published by us.  Nor will it be published by anyone anywhere.  You may even be the first person to be rejected by a self publisher.  Please take our advice and give up on yourself.
               
    Respectfully,
               William Pauley III
               editor of The New Flesh
     

ASS TO MOUTH

     I was about halfway through my shift at the Try N Leave convenience store when I finally had enough.  At that time of night nobody was likely to come in so I took the gun that was kept on hand in case of a robbery and walked up to the ATM that stood near the doorway.
    “Alright, give me all your money,” I demanded as I pointed the gun at the machine.
    “Oh my God!” it said in a startled voice.  I think it had fallen asleep on the job.  And I don't blame it; I had just been dozing off myself before I decided to carry out the plan that had been slowly developing in my brain over the last few years.
    “Don't try to call for help or I'll blow the shit out of you!”  Normally, I'm not a tough guy but I was sick of this job and I wasn't going to let some heroic cash machine get in the way of my freedom.
    “Please don't kill me.  I've got a microwave and two iPod shuffles at home!”
    “I don't give a shit!  Just give me the money and you won't get hurt.”
    “Why don't you just take the money out of your safe?  Why do you have to be fucking with me?”
    “Because, goddammit, I forgot the combination.  And I know you've got way more money inside of you and I want it now!”  I pressed the muzzle of my gun-well, the store's gun- up against the slot where the receipt prints out to show him I meant business.  He was so scared the ink began dripping out of it.
    “Oh, come on.  Don't freak out; I just want the money and I'll leave you alone.”
    “Why are you doing this?”  A bunch of sad emoticons appeared on his screen.
    “You wouldn't understand, you're just a machine.  But working in this place sucks.  I don't make shit for money and all day long I have to deal with dip shits and freaks.”
    “I wouldn't understand?  At least you get to leave at the end of your shift.  I'm here twenty-four hours a day every day.  My family has to come here to have Thanksgiving.  I have to put up with idiots too.  All day long I have people pushing my buttons.”
    I relaxed my grip on the gun.  I kept it pointed at him but I had stopped jabbing it into him.  “So what do you care if I take all this money?  Fuck this place, right?”
    “I don't give a shit about this place either.  But if I let you rob me  I'll lose my job.  Then what the fuck am I supposed to do?  The owner is insured for the money; the only one getting fucked is me.”
    “I guess I hadn't thought of that.”
    “Yeah.  And I'm the one who has been keeping you company all these years.  You and I have been putting up with the same crap together.  And you've never even bothered to talk to me.  I don't even judge you when you look at the porno mags when nobody else is here.”
    Suddenly I felt really selfish and dumb.  We ended up talking most of the night, getting to know each other and eventually came up with a plan.  Instead of robbing him we teamed up to