Billy's Wish: Difference between revisions
m
Text replacement - "“" to """
m (Text replacement - "Category:Shok ending" to "Category:WHAT A TWIST!") |
m (Text replacement - "“" to """) |
||
Line 1:
Gil sat down on the couch with an exasperated sigh. He picked up the remote and clicked through a few channels with each subsequent channel, his frustration grew. There was nothing on the T.V., every channel had those damn Pokemen or those Adventurer Times. There was nothing there for a sixty-year-old man to watch. There really wasn’t anything for anyone over fifteen years since the wish.
Fucking Billy. It had become his mantra for everything these past three years. He spat,
Gil hated that boy so much. He hated the fact that he was now king of the universe. He hated that Billy had over a gazillion dollars, which was now an actual unit of measurement. Most of all, he hated Billy for his first wish. No one knew how he got his hands on a magic genie lamp (or that they even existed), but everyone knew what his first wish was. Billy looked at the towering djiin that had sprouted from the lamp and said those damnable words,
Ever since then, the world had been warped to his perception of reality. Storks carried babies to the houses of expecting parents. Fiendish anthropomorphic sea-life arose from the ocean, from what was once its home. (Where they had in fact once lived in a pineapple under the sea.) Sports teams were now populated with dogs who were professional quarterbacks, pointgaurds, and goalies. To say Gil disliked that eight-year-old boy was a massive understatement.
Line 19:
Gil paused for a moment as if decided what his final words should be. He chose them carefully. He smiled as he raised the revolver and put it under his chin. He fanned the hammer back and listened to the satisfying click. He took a deep breath, so deep his lungs expanded to twice the size of his body, and shouted out so the whole neighborhood could hear him.
Gil squeezed the trigger. There was a bright flash and then pain. His death wasn’t instantaneous like he had hoped. He was disoriented and his face hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. Gil stumbled off of the couch and rushed towards the bathroom mirror.
He moaned,
He looked at himself in the mirror and felt a laugh bubble up from deep within him. He wasn’t laughing at the humor of the situation, but at its hopelessness. His face was covered in ash, his eyes were bugged out, and his hair was blown back like Daffy Duck in one of those old Loony Toons cartoon. Billy had even stolen the sweet reprieve of death from him.
| |||