Digital Underground - uXu - Underground eXperts United #uxu-163

### ### ### ### ### #### ### ### ### #### ### ### ##### ### ### ### ### ### ### ### ### ### ##### ### ### ########## ### ### ########## ### ### ### ### Underground eXperts United Presents... ####### ## ## ####### # # #### ####### ####### ## ## ## ## ##### ## ## # ## #### ## ## #### # # ## ####### #### ## ## ## ## ##### ## ## ## # ## ## ## ####### ####### # # ###### ####### ####### [ Bob - The Serial Killer ] [ By The GNN ] ____________________________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________________ "BOB - THE SERIAL KILLER" by THE GNN/DualCrew-Shining/uXu Dedicated to Cult of the Dead Cow. He he he... Knife? No... too much blood. Piano wire? No, no, not this time. Gun? Yes! Gun! Bob carefully opened his jacket and pulled out his lovely automatic pistol, which was loaded with drilled nine millimeter bullets. He looked at the dark street. A stocky man walked right towards him, unaware of Bobs presence in the shadows. There was no lamp-posts on this small street which made it to an excellent place for a kill. "Yes, yes, yes, yes...", Bob whispered to himself as the man approached him with heavy steps. This was going to be fun. The moon was full and Bob wondered what the papers would write about him tomorrow. "The serial killer strikes again!". "Midnight terror!". "Who is the madman on our streets?". No... too ordinary. Maybe something like... uhm.. "He kills for sexual pleasure!". Bleurk! How incredible ridiculous! Bob wondered if he would ever get caught, but quickly denied it to himself. Caught? He? No way... he was too smart for the police men. By the way, why should they hunt him? Everybody likes to kill. Ok, not everybody kills lonely humans in the middle of the night. But some do, and whatthehell was wrong with that? Yeah, even Bob knew it was not a really sane hobby but anyway... it was fun. He had to exercise in some way! The stocky man had now passed him with two steps and Bob knew it was time to rock and roll. He quickly stepped out of the shadows, raised the gun and pointed it at the head of the stocky man. The man continued walking, still unaware of the Death behind him. Bob walked after him with the gun in his hand, smiling and feeling how his dick came to life. After a few steps Bob loudly cleared his throat. This was the most fun part. The man would hear something behind him, turn around, see Bob, piss in his pants, pray for mercy etc etc... and then Bob would pull the trigger and feel the magic feeling of creation! Wow! Yes! The man turned around! Bob thought that God was really nice to him this night since the man was not deaf. Bob steadied the grip of his gun and... and... now wait a minute! What the... Bob suddenly found himself staring into the barrel of a bigger gun than he had. The stocky man had obviously drawn his own gun and now the shitty piece of metal was pointed at Bob! The stocky man had a red face and a rather short hair cut. Bob did not really know what to do. If he pulled the trigger, the stocky man would probably do that too. Fortunately, the stocky man probably knew that if he pulled the trigger, Bob would do that too. This was embarrassing! This had not happened before! Bob decided to try out some social engineering. - Cough... Good evening, sir! Bob said with a jolly voice. Nice night tonight, eh? I see you own a... uhm... (oh shit) forty-four Magnum! Nice weapon! I would like to have one myself! They are excellent for ki... murd... hunting! I MEAN PERSONAL DEFENCE! Yes! Defence! Defence... The stocky man looked puzzled. - Good evening, the man said. Yes, very nice night tonight! I see you are a serial ki... ahem... a man interested in guns yourself! What kind of gun is that? Looks like a Berretta to me... is it? Bob lowered his gun and showed it to the man who leaned forward and examined it. - No, said Bob. It is a Taurus actually. Very good quality! - Oh! How nice! The stocky man showed Bob his Magnum and explained: - This one is great! You do not know what this gun can do to a head... cough... I mean a moose! Moose... Suddenly both of them quickly raised their guns and pointed them at each other again. - Oh sorry! Bob said. I thought you were on your way to... - Uhm... sorry! I also thought that you... They stood in the same position for about twenty seconds. Bob felt tired. This was not was he had expected. - So... what do you work with? Bob asked his new friend. The stocky man smiled and said - I am into entertainment business! - How fun! Me too! Bob replied. What kind of entertainment? - Well, the stocky man said without lowering his gun, I... I usually... well... I have this gun and... some nights I walk out and... you know... bom bom? Bob felt depressed. - Me too, he said. Bom bom! Scream, scream... Actually you are on my personal hunting fields now... The stocky man placed his Magnum in his shoulder holster. Bob did the same. - Oh sorry! the man said and looked embarrassed. I did not know! What do you call yourself? - 'Cool Psycho', Bob said and revealed a slight pride. Nine killings! - Never heard about. - What?! - Sorry. Bob suddenly wanted to kill this clown, who insulted him with bullshit. But he managed to calm down. - Never heard of, huh? They write about me all the time! Who are you then? 'Son of son of Sam'? Ha ha. Or maybe you are 'Killer Clown II'? That would fit you perfectly! Magnum... crap! The stocky man shook his head. - No, no! I am 'The ghost of Elvis Presley'. - WHAT? That was the most fucking stupidest name I have ever heard! The stocky man, who claimed to be Elvis, was clearly annoyed with Bob. - Oh? Stupid, eh? Then what the fuck is a 'Cool Psycho' then? Some rap-artist that has gone insane or what? I am so cool, I am so psycho, yeah, yeah, yeah, the Elvis man rapped. - Get off my street! Bob screamed. The stocky man turned around and started to walk away. - With pleasure, you amateur! the man screamed back to Bob. Bob could feel the anger boil inside him. Amateur? Him? Bob? Cool Psycho? Was nine killings the work of an amateur? Jerk! Fag! Fucking lame Magnum-homosexual! When the stocky man had disappeared Bob quickly showed the finger before he went back to the shadows. He mumbled naughty words and said 'fuck you' to God a couple of times before he... wow... heard steps again! Bob looked around. Yes! Some teenager was going his way. Bob pulled out his Taurus and got ready for killing. This time he was not going to make the same mistake. When the kid was two metres in front of him, Bob jumped out from the shadows and screamed - Yiiieaah! Get ready to be killed by the most motherfucking-ultra-cool-bad-ass motherfucker you have ever seen! Cool Psycho! Me! Nine killings! You will be the celebrated tenth killing! Bob pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. A vision of his bullets, placed on his table in the kitchen, but not placed in the magazine of the gun swept through his brain. - FUCK! FUCKFUCKFUCK! Bob cried. THIS WAS THE FUCKING WORST NIGHT I HAVE EVER EXPERIENCED! The teenager just looked at Bob. - WHAT ARE YOU STARING AT?! HAVE YOU NEVER SEEN A WORKING MASS-MURDERER BEFORE YOU LITTLE PRICK!? - No, I actually have not... the teenager replied with a weak voice. - WELL THEN, TAKE A GOOD LOOK! Bob fell down on his knees and started to cry. - Is that how you work? the teenager asked. - SHUT UP! The teenager searched for something in his pockets. After a while he said "Ah!" and brought up a computer diskette. Bob looked up. The teenager showed the diskette to Bob. - Cheer up! Look at this! This is a diskette... - DO YOU THINK I AM BLIND?! - ... and it is loaded with great text files from Underground eXperts United! Look, you can take it! You can kill me some other day instead! Bob took the diskette. The teenager ran away as fast as he could. Bob stood up and examined the diskette, holding it hard with both hands. - Underground eXperts United? Then he violently threw the diskette in a wall. Plastic and small pieces of metal fell to the street. Bob fell to his knees again and screamed in agony. - I DO NOT WANT THAT SHIT! I WANT CULT OF THE DEAD COW! UAAAAH! Here ends the story about Bob, the most bad-ass-motherfucking-cool serial killer ever. //////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// Seven megacool years of cDc! But this board is uXu's: THE STASH +46-13-READINDEX! \\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\ Bing bing bong bong woaaaah! --------------------------------------------------------------------------- uXu #163 Underground eXperts United 1994 uXu #163 Call SOLSBURY HILL -> +1-301-428-8317 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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