Jaunt

Yesterday I decided to take off my mask, and walk the busy tourist-laden areas of Washington, D.C..  Despite the fact that I’m one of the most wanted criminals on the globe, thanks to careful planning and manipulation on my part, no one knows my real face. 

It gets pretty lonely, being able to alter the thought patterns, emotions, decisions, and opinions at will; people have essentially been nothing but toys to me since I got the hang of it.  Whatever it is I do, its proven itself irresistable thus far; that is, I’ve never had someone maintain their own will against my own.  I don’t “hear thoughts” nor am I “a telepath” or anything like that… its just that if I’d like you to think differently, in any sense, you will.  And this applies to everybody and anybody.  Sometimes I take these solo jaunts out in public just to get away from a world that I don’t completely dictate.  I’ll not use my gift, have a hotdog on a street corner, people-watch from park benches… essentially, be a person, alone. 

   It only gets interesting once I’m either forced to interact with someone, or manage to have the tranquility doing this brings me disrupted.  For example… I despise the Dave Matthews Band.  Utterly.  I don’t know what it is about that guy’s face, or the songs they’ve produced, but I can’t stand to hear them, can’t stand to see them.  So when I was rudely bumped into by a large, jockish teenager wearing a Dave Matthews Band t-shirt, it certainly put a crimp in my afternoon.  

As he walked away, I followed him.  It wasn’t the direction I was going, but that wasn’t important.  This douchebag was wearing a fanny pack, and as he flip-flopped up the street he pulled a cell phone out of it and seemed to be sending a text message to someone.  I kept pace with him, to the point where I gave him a ‘flat-tire’, stepping on the back of his odd flip-flop sandal thing.  He glanced back, but kept walking without a word… so a minute later, I did it again.  He turned around and said, “Hey, back the fuck up off me aiight?” and began walking again.  I stopped, and just smiled back at him.  He nodded, turned 90 degrees, and walked off the sidewalk and directly into traffic, was struck by a bus, and instantly killed. 

It wasn’t a very satisfying murder.  It was so… hum-drum.  On top of that, my mood had been disrupted, and I’d been forced to use my mind control, which I didn’t want to.  It’s just too fucking easy.  I kept walking, purchased my street-corner hot-dog, and sat on a bus stop bench to eat it.  Having broken my rule for the day already, I gave the hot-dog vendor the notion to strip naked and throw the contents of his coin dispenser at people as hard as he could.  That passed some time, as he was a good shot – he’d chipped 3 teeth and taken out 2 eyes before police arrived at the scene.  My hot-dog finished, I took my despondent ass back to where I’d left my stolen helicopter and had my slaves take me back to my hideout.

I really don’t know why I bother trying to hold on to any shred of my humanity.  The only real joy I get, the only times I’m not bored to tears by people, is when I’m making them suffer or die for no good reason.