g v. e

"God sent those winds to clean out the sins that have tallied up in the south," he said. "Who cares if two thousand or two million people die. They're all atheists and devil lovers and probably communist, too. And you, you're just like them. Part of the profession of lies, those news reporters and anchormen down there. They're all sissys, would cry to their mothers if they went through half as much as real people. Damned lying cowards. They're part of the problem, too. Going against Bush and all the good he's done for us, his fight of good against evil. You say you help the world, ha! Why do you hate a man that wishes nothing more then to have a better life for you and your future family. The devil's workshop, that's what you're apart of. Damn liberal communist. Don't even know whats good for you. Find God, he'll still embrace you, he'll still shake your hand and send you down a path of rightousness. Think about it, how many...."
I starred at him, cold.
I picked up a chair that was right next to him and swung it cold into the back of his head and it sent him spiraling to the ground, blood gushing everywhere. He rolled over and I threw the chair on top of him and he began begging for his life.
No, thats not right.
He looked at me and kept talking and then he started to choke, I guess on his own spit. And he stopped talking and kept choking and reached out to me and I just stood there and in his last dying gasp I heard him say "help," and then he fell to his knees and I left.
No, no, thats not right either.
"Think about it, how many..." and he continued on and I looked at him. Then I began to walk away and he called after me and I left the room, went up the stairs, out he door, walked away, heard my phone ring, picked it up.
"Hello."
"Hey, we need you on this story. Its important. What are you doing tomorrow afternoon?"