ΪΔΔΔΏ ΪΔΔΔΏ ΪΔΔΔΔΔΔΏ ΪΩ ΐΏ ³ ΐΔΔΔΔΔΔ ³ ³ ΐΔΏ ³ ΐΔΔΔΔΏ ³ ΐΏ ΓΔΔΔΔΏ ΐΔΏ ³ ³ ³ ΐΔΔ ΐΏ ³ ³ ³ ΪΩ ³ ΪΔΩ ³ ΔΔΏ ΪΔΔΩ ΐΔΔΔΔΔΔΩ ³ ΐΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΔΩ Damned Fucking Shit Edited by Access Denied Issue #5 Title: On iCE Part One Date: 10/2/93 By: DeMeNTia PRaeCoX ――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――― On iCE A DeMeNTia PRaeCoX/DFS Production Part One ...Jingle, Jingle...Jingle, Jingle... The cheery sang out through the loudspeakers and floated through the neighborhood. God, how I DESPISED that fucking song. It was all I heard, day in, and day out. That and the demands of all those little piece of shit kids who run up and order things. I FUCKING HATE them too. ...Jingle, Jingle...Jingle, Jingle... They hear me coming, and they tear outside the houses, plummeting toward me yelling their asses off, coins shifting back and forth in their hands. For I am the goddamned Ice Cream Man, and I drive the fucking Ice Cream Truck. ...Jingle, Jingle...Jingle, Jingle... But you just can't have this job for too long, I guess. I did, and I think that because of it, I've lost my fucking mind. Gone insane. Flipped out. I don't give a shit what you call it. I've started to get some strange ideas, bizzare ones. After all this time, one has finally sounded pretty damn good to me. ...Jingle, Jingle...Jingle, Jingle... I slowly picked the .38 caliber handgun up, felt the cold steel press against my bare skin. Heard the "click" of the bullets as they slid into the chambers. The grinding noise as the silencer was screwed on. The gun seemed like it was weighted just for my hand. I moved the gun around, shifting its weight slowly in my hand. Turning around, I aimed at imaginary targets. Today was going to be fun. Going outside, I hopped in the truck and turned it on. As the engine revved up, on came the song. Fuck. Well, I guess I'd just have to leave the damn thing going if I wanted to attract some of those little fuckheads. I put the gun down on the seat next to me and pulled out of the driveway. ...Jingle, Jingle...Jingle, Jingle... It was a couple of blocks before someone was hungry. As I was driving past a house, the door flew open, slammed shut, and a small shape rocketed toward me, screaming "Wait, wait!" the whole goddamned time. As if I was going to fucking take off and miss this. As it turned out, it was a little girl, about four or five years old. I pulled the truck to a stop and turned toward her. ...Jingle, Jingle...Jingle, Jingle... "And what would you like, little girl?" I asked sweetly. "Give me an ice cream sandwich!" she shrieked at me. Bitch. "Coming right up" I responded. I reached down onto the seat next to me, and grasped the handle of the gun. I slowly picked it up, holding it just uinder the window. The little bitch was looking the other way. "Oh, little girl?" She turned to look at me. In one fluid motion, I brought the gun up to bear, aimed out the window, and pulled back on the trigger. For just an instant, I saw a look of astonishment on her face, then heard the "Whirr" of a bullet passing through a silencer. The gun kicked, and then her little face exploded in a puddle of blood and bits of flesh. It was hilarious. ...Jingle, Jingle...Jingle, Jingle... I hopped out of the truck to get the little body. She, or what was left of her, was lying face down on the ground, with a huge hole in the back of her skull. Pieces of brain oozed out, over the shattered bone, and dripped down what was once her face. I picked the carcass up, went around, and back into the truck. I opened up the ice crem freezer in back (I left it empty today) and threw her in. Then I put the truck into drive and drove on to find another customer. ...Jingle, Jingle...Jingle, Jingle... A few blocks over, another victim appeared. This time it was a boy of about seven. He didn't seem to want any ice cream though. Too bad, he was getting some. ...Jingle, Jingle...Jingle, Jingle... I was about half a block away when he started crossing the street. I laughed, then slammed down on the accelerator. He looked up, but didn't seem to understand what was about to happen. That is, until the truck smashed into his face at 50 miles per hour. There was a sickening "CRUNCH", and he went down. I heard a "thud", and slammed on the brakes. Looking back, I coudln't see him. Then I saw his head and arms sticking out from under a tire. The fucking truck waas on top of him! I backed it off, then I got out. Another twisted and broken body for the freezer. ...Jingle, Jingle...Jingle,Jingle... When there was no room left in the freezer, I drove home. Lots of parents might be wondering where '"junior" was. I had used up all of my bullets, and put several dents in the truck. Still, I didn't care. I had a fucking blast. Now, what does one do with about 20 bodies? ...Jingle, Jingle...Jingle, Jingle... To Be Continued in another issue of DFS. - DeMeNTia PRaeCoX [DFS] ΙΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝ» Ί Distribution Sites: Ί Ί If you're on the BBSs you know it. Ί Ί Fuck you if you're not. Ί ΘΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΝΌ