There’s a story behind why I ended up in this 8’x 5’x 8’ Big Muddy “home” by a river and now I’m stuck in here with four other niggas. Well let me first say that I don’t regret shit that I did. You made me this way. I was forced to starve myself, like that’s good. I had sores on parts of me I knew were alive. But you just smiled at me and told me I was getting stronger. You were right. I learned patience while you were the one torturing me. All I wanted to do was wipe that fucking smile off your face. You kidnapped me from my own home and took me far away to your Billy family, telling me that if I was a true “Good-Guy” soldier I wouldn’t die from not eating. Every time that sun went down I stayed up. If you are my enemy then so be it. Only mistake you made was keeping me alive.

    I plotted my sweet revenge. It was poetic. I would have your children watch a monitor as you starve to death in front of their eyes while they were forced to eat steak everyday. They’ll get fat while you die. The sun just kept rising as I fought to keep my thoughts solely on killing you. And if your children died from gluttony for 37 days then I guess you didn’t raise soldiers. Just when I thought I would die in my rest you made a mistake. You failed to notice I was taking the chains off as a whole set from pulling nails out of the wall. See I was patient and you forgot to check on me that day. I dislocated my shoulder trying to break free, and when I went upstairs I realized you got me. It was your face on the television screen in a loop smiling while mute was at the bottom corner. I grabbed the remote to see if there was a message. Nothing.

    Fuck just starving you, I’ll make every day you live be a fucking hell! I’ll feed you to your children and then your children to your lover while I kill them as they finish eating their meal. Then I’ll drive the body to the doorstep of your whole Clan as it lies dead in your jacket with the crest of a cub. Just for fun I’ll leave some explosives on your lover’s back. I couldn’t wait for the moment I’d find you. As I walked out your house I noticed you left your mail in the box “Corky Bartman Billy”, second mistake. I hope you don’t mind but I took a knife from your kitchen and used it to steal one of your clansman’s cars.

    I’ll admit I was way too woozy to try to drive back south and get out of your territory. As I made a slow and focused effort to get back to my safezone I saw you. My heart stopped then started beating uncontrollably, my breathing became heavy, my body started to shake, my whole head started sweating profusely, a sharp pain shot through me straight to my eye. Tires screeched and you throw your own son in front of the car. I send him and the car crashing into a pole and as I fade out I see you with that damn smile still on your face.

    When I wake up I think that hours have passed but I was lucky because it seemed like only 30 seconds had gone by and nobody had seen what really happened yet. I dip off into an alley where I find an old pizza box on top of a garbage can. I open the box in hopes to find a cold slice but the only thing I saw was a damn rat looking as disappointed as I was. As I hear sirens I stay calm and head off into the darkness. Who do I find but you limping down the same alley? It’s just too good to be true. My legs react on their own as I rush you. My mind pulses as the wind blows through my ears while my line of sight is readjusted, I’m grinding my teeth, and I’m so numb I can’t feel or hear my own footsteps. I stab you in the back of the neck and we fall over as I crawl into your pocket searching for the keys to the chains. No dice.

    I still felt accomplished at the time so I hobble down the dark streets and alleys to a man named Maxwell that I heard would feed anyone hungry regardless of who they are.
On his television I saw your face smiling. I smiled back but Maxwell’s face was stuck as he tried to stutter pointing at me. I look at my stomach to see nothing but blood and I passed out. Not so lucky the second time I woke up as I realize I was chained to a bed in a hospital. It felt oddly proper but the only difference was there were chains on my ankles too. Smart. There was a woman that had walked in and said “Corky”. R.I.P. she told me I was being charged with double homicide manslaughter. I felt that was excessive. Flashes of your smile as she was speaking to me. She asked if I thought it was funny. I told her “yeah.” She left the room.

    Four days later I step out of the hospital to a sea of people. I was surprised to see any signs of support but some people cheered. Reporters were asking me why I did it. If they really had to ask either they don’t know you tortured me or they’re stupid. Saying anything would be a waste of my time so I remained silent, smiled, and waved. Cameras flashing, people screaming, and one dude wanted my autograph. It was my first time being asked for my autograph, how could I say no? Then it’s into the paddy wagon for solitary confinement. For 113 days I awaited a verdict while I gave interviews to every magazine, newspaper, and network. I never said anything rude besides the truth that you deserved it. I loved every second of it because at least for a moment people cared about what I had to say.

    Guilty. All because I didn’t show any remorse for my actions. Well nobody bats 1.000. As I walked out of the courtroom and cameras snapped again a reporter asked me, “How does it feel to lose?” Your face flashed. And I thought again that your only mistake was keeping me alive. I smiled and replied, “The Bad Guys will never win.”
III