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He was a weekender. He was insane. He had killed three people and raped four dogs. The cops never found out about that though. He was given this sh*tty deal. All for pointing a gun at some a$$hole driving down the road. SO now he spends his weekend out in a field hoeing and raking gra$$ and dirt. It's real time-consuming and he uses it to get out some of his aggressions. There's nothing like taking this overweight hoe and slamming it into the ground with all of your bodyweight behind it. Digging and tearing away at the Earth. The human machine. He was a bulldozer. He was an animal. He was a machine.

During one weekday, he got a call from his sister. Her husband has been beating her again. He was flying so high on coke and acid that the phone was a serpent in his hand. He slammed it back down on the hook after uttering the words, "He's Mine!" Flying out of the shed he was living at, adrenaline pumping with the pa$$ion of hatred. He was going to teach that motherf*cker a lesson that's for sure. Running and panting the whole way there like a rabid dog. He arrived at his sister's house soon enough and broke the motherf*cking door down using his body as a battering ram. With the loud thunderous crunching thud of wood and bone. There he was. Get him! He tackled the bastard and pinned him to the ground twisting his arms behind his back. He searched the room with his eyes and when he found his sister he told her to leave. She tried to argue but one look into his eyes proved that would be useless. She grabbed her infant child and ran from the house with a change of clothes and no idea of where to go.

Our hero the weekender slammed that son of a bitches head against the living room floor. His face expressionless. Eyes glazed. His ears couldn't even hear the a$$holes screams. He just slammed and beat and punched and kicked. Teach you you worthless piece of sh*t. With inhuman strength he picked up that sack of flesh and threw it against the wall with resounding force. He had him by the throat and just stared him right in the eyes. He got right in his face and said, "You beat my sister, now I beat your a$$. Prepare to die you wife beating child hating racist sexist bastard. f*ck YOU!" He squeezed his hand tighter and tighter trying to make a fist with the guy's throat in his hand. With a dull crack his neck finally gave up and broke. Like a skilled hinter, he whipped out his blade. Six inches of raw flesh ripping metal in all it's gleaming glory. Holding that sh*tty corpse up against the wall by the hair he stuck that knife right into the top of it's head as far as it would go. "Now the fun begins," he thought. With a short sawing motion he started a gentle curve down and around it's head. Cutting and slicing through the flesh like a twisted Thanksgiving scene.

Keep going, spiraling down and around the back of the head. Blood streaming down it's face and neck. slice slice slice. Neck body waist. Intestines slipping out the wounds. Blood oozing all over the floor. Slice slice slice. "I am the Master chef. Benihana's here I come. Cut you motherf*cker cut." Finally this guy had carved a spiral gouge down the guy's entire body branching down the arms and legs. He rips the topmost flap off of it's skull, hair and all, and tacks it to the wall. Then he begins to unravel this guy against the wall. Pushing thumbtacks through the flesh every now and again. His face unravels right over the mirror. "Yeah see what a f*cking piece of sh*t you are?" His body goes around and around. More and more skeleton hanging over the unraveled portions. His a$$ spread right over the velvet painting of Jesus. Going to hell right now man.

Done. Like the amazing man that he is he has managed to wallpaper the whole room with this f*ckhead's body. His skeleton laying prone on the middle of the floor like a decayed bearskin rug. "f*ck you. You worthless piece of sh*t." He goes in the bathroom and takes a shower to clean off all the blood and guts and sh*t. After the shower he puts his clothes back on and goes to the kitchen and drinks a beer. "f*cking Miller time, yeah!" Finishing the beer he puts the empty can in the skeleton's hand like a joke and walks out the front door to go home. He was a weekender. He was insane.

Notes:

I had a lot of fun with this one. I always thought the weekender should return for repeat episodes. I just haven't thought of a scenario gruesome enough to top this.