Ah, those fucking communists, they must hate us. I’m sure they do. Not that I blame them either. I bet I’d hate us too, if I was them.
They have names for us, too, my Grandpa said. And they’re way more racist than us, Gramps said. No one is more racist than some of the Asians, he told me.
Look, bro, he was there. My Gramps fought in Vietnam. He killed like 120 commies. He said in Danang he slipped off one of his socks, jumped outta some bushes, and strangled a commie to death. With the fucking sock. What a way to go out, huh, choked to death by a wet, stinky sock… Gramps said he was singing the commie a Christmas song, fucking “Jingle Bells” as the commie’s eyes popped out of his little head…
Then they got him, though, caught my Gramps like a bear, in a trap. He was kept as a prisoner of war and tortured. He lived in a fucking tiger cage for 5 months. He had malaria, fucking malaria, bro… I remember when he was in the hospice, hooked to a ventilator, and he was still cursing the commies. Man was wheezing, coughing up blood, and rambling about how he wished he could kill one last commie before he flew up to the big casino in the sky…
My Gramps, bro, I remember how he walked like a drunk, and I wasn’t sure if it was from wartime injuries or just from the flask he’d always be sipping on. The man stank something fierce of whiskey.
Ah, my Grandpa, bro, he knew things about everything. I wish he was still around. He’d make sense of these crazy times. They ain’t building guys like him no more. They ain’t building guys like John Wayne. Nah, they ain’t. Nowadays, they build fat freaks with man buns. All these fucking pussies crying about their feelings on Twitter. A bunch of…
A bunch of pussies, these kids now. They’re fat and soft. And you can’t even call ’em fat no more. You can’t even tell a fat fuck he’s a fat fuck no more. You can’t call ’em a fatty, a lardass, chubbalubbagus, none of that shit. Seriously, how’d we get so soft? A buncha marshmallow people, these days… For fuck’s sake.
I mean, bro, look, it ain’t racist to call ’em fat. And it ain’t even racist, calling people slurs. My old man called ’em that. So I can call ’em that. It’s just words. As long as it ain’t no hate behind it. There’s nothing racist about it. I don’t hate any of ’em. Really, I don’t.
Really, I hate people, people in general, human beings. After working as a prison guard, it’s hard not to. What’s that word for a person who hates people? Mapplethorpe? Something like that…
But yeah, it’s just words, bro. It just feels good to say … or … … It feels good to say it because you’re not supposed to. It’s relieving. Like you finally say it, and it lifts a weight off your chest.
Look, I never told anyone this, but I’ll sometimes go down to the basement, lock the door, make sure all the windows are good and closed, and then I’ll stand there and just yell racial slurs, every single slur I can think of, over and over again, at the top of my lungs, until I’m hoarse… Ah, bro, it feels so good. Really, it does. And like I says, there ain’t no hate behind it.
Bro, there should be small “safe rooms” in every building, like the size of an airplane bathroom, and people can go in there, lock the door, and scream, shout, holler, howl or whisper whatever words they want. Just go take a load off, you know…
Everybody’s too sensitive these days. Everyone’s on their stupid phones too much. Whining. Fucking whiners.
It makes me want to smash their stupid phones in their stupid faces… But I’m on mine too much, too. I mean, that fucking Candy Crush. That shit is like digital crack… Damn fucking Mark Zuckerberg… Cyborg looking, little Klingon fuck…
But yeah, bro, all this political correctness, all this compassion, for what? We’ve got prisoners here, like the sicko mass killer in the psych ward. That crazy bastard shot up his family AND his school.
We’ve got the fucking East Coast Prowler. This guy attacked countless women. I have to feed the guy. I have to feed the guy who raped a woman, in her bed, while she was lying next to her 1-year-old infant. What kind of a fucking animal? And I have to feed him. The food trays are sealed so I can’t do nothing to it, but I’d piss in his food if I could. I take a big fat fucking hairy steaming shit in it. What an animal. Why does he deserve to be alive?
These are the worst monsters in the world. Right here. I remember Pete saying how he didn’t think about it, he put it out of his mind, what they did to get here. He treated them fairly. He treated them like humans. The guy was a saint.
And how’d they repay him? They slashed his friggin’ throat. Where’s the fairness? Where was God then? I used to be real religious before I worked here. Now, I’m not so sure if there’s anything up there. I don’t really believe in nothing no more.
Except I believe in evil. Because I seen it. I see evil. I see evil every day I walk through the cell blocks and see those inmates popping their ugly eyes and flexing their jaws.
I see evil every time I drive my truck in through those metal gates wrapped in razor wire. Every time I look up at the guns dangling from the tower, I know, I know what’s real. I know what exists.
Thing is, too… I worry their evil is like contagious, like the Wuhan Virus. Like I might catch the evil from them. I wonder if my old man did, if he caught the evil off ’em, and that’s why he’d slap my mom around. I can remember hearing her crying through the walls. It was the worst sound ever. There’s no worse sound than hearing your mother wailing in pain. Bro, I remember the red whelps on her cheeks and bruises on her arms, her trying to hide it under makeup, long sleeves… Just horrendous…
Not me, bro, nah, I ain’t never slapped my woman. But I been working in this hellhole for so long that… these fucks, these animals, they must have worn off on me… Anyone who ever works as a prison guard, or a cop, bro, I promise, they never look at people the same way.
It’s like this, we was talking ‘bout it the other day in the breakroom. By the time we retire, we’ll have spent maybe half our lives in prison. Like I says, in this town we’re all inmates… There ain’t no escaping that prison.
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