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They will give me 458 years and call me the Replica
McFlurry killer. I will sit in my
cell and cry a lot and think
about winning the lottery and starting a record label.
I
will have my brothers send me Dom Pérignon and
porn in cakes. Life will seem like it is a
long time, except
in my dreams. In my dreams it will feel like a long aisle
lit by
fluorescent lights. And each day is a fluorescent
light going off with a click.
I will
try to find who is clicking off the lights and I will
try to tell him that for each light
he doesn't turn off
I will snap my fingers a million times and he can watch.
My face will
slowly turn into something I cannot see
anyway because they don't allow real mirrors
here
because we might turn them into weapons. We might
take any piece of metal or glass
and turn it into a
thing to take away as many pints of blood as you have.
We will take
your blood and let it run away. We will let it
run down grout. We will not scoop it up
for the blood
bank. We will not think about all the other fluids you have
wasted. We will
not think about all your semen in the
sewer. I am thinking of a color. It is a yellow
color.
Look at your legs
they are making me a hot blue color like the base
of a flame. I
will make a deal with you. If you don't
say Ol' Dirty Bastard for a year, I will not kill
your
family with a Marks-A-Lot.
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