I shot my butler. Bastard had it coming to him. He insulted me at every turn, never cleaned any dishes, put his feet up as I hoovered the floors. He never did anything for me.
I could have just fired him - that seems like it would have been the rational thing to do. But then he had the guts to insult my mother in front of me.
Nobody insults my mother.
It was a nice sunny day. I was having a picnic with my lovely mistress, out in the woods. We found a nice little clearing where we could set down our blanket and our hamper. The butler did fuckall, of course. He sat on a tree log, reading the latest issue of Playboy. I don't think he ever read it for the articles.
I was enjoying a nice glass of wine (Merlot, if you're wondering.) when he suddenly piped up. He yelled at me. "Hey fuckhead, your mum's a whore!" I turned my head towards him slowly.
"What did you just say...?"
"I said, your mum's a whore! Look at this, she's fifty and she's posing in Playboy!"
I could feel the rage build up inside. Slowly, but surely, I pulled my pistol out of my holster and shot him in the chest. He fell onto the magazine, bleeding out onto the photo he was talking about.
I wasn't able to tell if he was joking.
"Hummingbird" James Vernon is a 16 year old A-Level student in England. He likes video games, tabletop games and making fun of things. In this way, he is much like the majority of the internet.
Unfortunately, like the majority of the internet, he isn't good at any of these either. However, he considers himself pretty good at writing.
And also at consistently using the third person. And also at thinking up terrible nicknames for himself.
And also at using the sentence beginning "And also."
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I shot my butler.