It can be good to look inside yourself.
But in the gutter, sometimes it's too dark to see.
But in the gutter, sometimes it's too dark to see.
The Inner Me by Todd Morr
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When Dennis decided to become Denise,
he told everybody Denise was who he really was inside. The man we all saw was just a mask he used to
hide his true self. Sure, his transformation
from dad to mom was tough on his kids, as was his conversion from son to
daughter tough on his parents, but his inner self had spoken. Apparently,
listening to the inner self is very important, certainly more important than
the feelings of his friends and family. Everyone, for the most part, recognized
the authority of the inner self and came around to support the decision.
The same line of reasoning was not
working out near as well for me. I had
explained the way the inner me felt. I laid out how important letting the inner
me do some blow off the tits of prostitute was for my long term mental health,
but my wife was still standing in the doorway of my room at the Las Vegas Motel
6 pointing my own gun at me.
Apparently my inner me’s long desire
for a long weekend binging on cocaine, strippers, Tequila, and blackjack was not
‘valid.’
Explaining the dull loser who worked
forty hours a week and took the kids to school was just a mask I wore did not
get the sympathetic head nods and long hugs Dennis got. Instead, she pulled the
trigger.
Lack of proper gun care never paid off
so well. Turns out if one does not oil
and clean the things once in a while, they tend to jam.
I was not the type of guy who would
ever hit a woman, or at least I had always thought so, but it turns out that
may have been a mask too. The inner me
felt the bitch deserved it, and the outer me agreed.
One of the big differences between a
man and woman is after men get dropped by a single punch they tend to quit
running their mouths. It is just common sense. Even with her half her fat face
caved in she would not shut the fuck up.
Later I thought I should visit Denise, test out how well the
transformation went and punch her in the mouth, see if she keeps talking.
The wife did not shut up until I had
bounced her face off the bathroom sink about twelve times, actually I think she
may have quit talking after the third time, but the inner me felt compelled to
keep slamming her.
She was alive, but I thought I could
see some brain showing through her crappy dye job. I was pretty sure the inner
her did not want to live the rest of her life as A retard or a vegetable, so I
drowned her in the toilet. I flushed first, this was the mother of my children
after all.
I went ahead and gave the gun a good
cleaning. The oil and everything was in the case I kept it in, and my deceased
wife had been thoughtful enough to bring it along.
My mask suggested suicide, but fuck
him. The inner me saw a better use for
the gun. The bank accounts, what was
left of them, were frozen, but the real me needed some more cash to continue
living the way I was supposed to.
When I walked into the gas station
waving the gun around, I got the distinct feeling the inner self of the dude
behind the counter really wanted to shoot someone with the pistol he had under
the counter. I had never really thought about it, probably because I was too
busy cultivating my mask, but I really wanted to shoot someone too.
Since I already had my freshly oiled
pistol handy, I got my wish. Turns out
it was not near as satisfying as drowning somebody, but watching the blood from
the exit wounds decorate the broken liquor bottles behind the counter and
seeing him fall back into the same bottles before slumping lifelessly to the
ground was pretty cool.
While I was taking all the cash from
the register I saw the patrol car pull into the parking lot. I grabbed the young lady by the slot machines
and walked out using her as a shield. He
was reluctant to open fire and hit the girl.
I shot him four times while he was telling me to drop the gun.
The girl covered her head, fell to her
knees, and started crying. She had done
such a nice job helping me with the cop I gave her twenty bucks from my haul.
I went for my gun, but these cops were
not bothering to tell me anything before they opened fire.
I bled out on the cheap green felt
thinking the inner me was kind of an asshole.
