The 4th of July Killer

This is the tale of the maniac that terrorized my home city. Myself, or as I have become known in the media, "The 4th of July killer".

Like all good stories, we need to start at the beggining. It was around summer. While most young adults my age were hanging out with friends I was sitting in my room, browsing the primitive interwebs because I had no friends because I was being such a pretentious cunt. After finding a shitload of porn that probably got me on some sort of FBI list I came across this internet fenomenon. The scary campfire stories. What a spook I had. No I mean seriously, they scared me so much I asked my parents if I could sleep with them and my dad told me to fuck off. What a fucking cunt, anyway, the stories that I was a fan of were these "the killer stories" which took no talent yet got so popular. You didnt even have to try, you just put your self insert into a scenario and by the end he goes insane and murders people.

Me being a fucking moron, I thought the stories were legit, never once did I consider that its just fiction. So after listening to Limp Bizkit for a while I decided that it was my time to get fame. I decided to follow the horror movie pattern and just commit my murder spree on the closest holiday. 4th of July. What a fucking anti-climatic piece of shit fucking holiday, but I had no other fucking choice since I'm an asshole that lacks patience.It was time to plan out the massacre that was to follow. Obviously it had to be thematic. If it were christmas I'd dress as Santa or if it was Halloween as a skeleton or some shit,but no, it had to be 4th of July of all fucking things.I'm still fucking bitter about that.

So I needed to dress as the iconic american president George Bush.My weapon of choice? Fire crackers. How fitting since George Bush is known for blowing buildings up. So I went to the fucking store and what do you fucking know, they didnt sell the powerful shit that could kill someone to kids.Fucking American laws, now I was fucking determined to tarnish the day this piece of shit fucking country was founded.So I went to my cousin that lived in a trailer park to see if he had something to sell. That fucking asshole was expecting me to pay him actual money to buy the firecrackers. What the fuck, why would he do that to his own fucking relative. This capitalistic system had to go down.

So after asking my dad for money and him telling me to get a fucking job I bought the firecrackers.He told me "be careful not to blow your fingers off you fucking moron".I waited one full month for the 4th of July, the day before i had the plan laid out, the George Bush costume was done and I had exercised my Tennessee accent. After the clock struck 12 AM. it was go time.That was when I got fucked over really hard. My dad told me to get into the car because we were going to visit relatives. "Fuck!" I thought to myself.After throwing a tandrum he got me into the car and we drove off.

That party was one of the most annoying experiences of my fucking life. Annoying fucking kids screaming and shit music was playing. It was about 3AM that my bitching got my family to drive back home. They asked us to sleep the night there and go in the morning but my dad said that he had enough of me crying.So we got home at about 5AM. My parents went to sleep. It was go time now.

I spray painted my hair white and put on the suit, posted a thread on /r9k/ about how I'll become an hero and then packed the fireworks. As I went outside I realized something. I didnt have any matches. So I went to the local store and what do you know, it didnt open until 8AM. After waiting until almost 10AM I realized it was closed that day because it was a holiday.

I went over to the minimarket that was open 24/7. As I walked in I was met with a bunch of awkward stares.I had the fucking George Bush suit on.I waited in line for half an hour. people taking pictures of me and everything just to buy some matches. The cashier gave me a long stare before giving me the matches.Now it was go time.

I got back home and decided to take a nap because i hadnt slept in about 2 days because of all the preparations.After i woke up at like 11PM I realized i was fucked.I ditched the plan and decided to just turn the neighborhood into Iraq. I went to my neightbors house who was an old couple and knocked on the door. After realizing old people went to sleep at about 6PM I tried breaking the door down but couldnt because I was weak as shit. The old man then opened the door and sitting there with a shotgun told me to fuck off before he called the cops. I backed out and threw a firework at him but it bounced off the wall and hit a nearby car. They were calling the cops now.

I ran back into my house and pondered what to do. I heard knocks at the door. It was the police. As I was prepering my stand off with the police I lit a firework but my dad answered the door and let the police into the home. That was when I decided that the police werent going to take me alive, it was time to live as a fugitive. I jumped out the window and prepered my next move. I would've started crying because I cut myself if it werent for the euphoria I was experiencing. I finally felt alive. The police dog barking woke me back to reality. That was when the realization hit me and a sudden pain hit me. I hadnt thrown the firework.

As I looked to my hand I saw that the firework had blown my fucking fingers off, blood was everywhere on my blue George George suit like it was some sort of Independence war reenactment. This is why all these hippies were against war.As I feel to my knees I heard the gate open and waited for the cops to arrest me.No such luck. The police dog jumped on me and started mauling my face, it took 2 policemen to get it off me. 

After an embarassing mug shot session while still dressed as George Bush I was charged with vandalism and had to do community service. My dad told me to either get a job move out of the house.That's how I became a janitor. You wanna know what the worst part was? It wasnt losing 2 fingers, needing face reconstruction surgery or having to clean kiddy vomit for a living. It was just how much the media mocked me in the news. The "4th of july killer". The whole city knows me as that, even the kids at the school I clean up.

To this day my dad brings that up everytime around the 4th of July, and everytime I try to pick something up with my right hand I drop it.

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