Thursday, 19 January 2012


Friends. Sort of.

Every once in a while they call me out to do something or other outside my field of expertise. Keep saying things like "There's only so many of us here, Cauldhame." Of course they're right. There's waaaay too few of us, considering some people are reporting freaking HORDES attacking them (in all honesty, I think they're just exaggerating their importance). We're not a horde. We barely even qualify as a squad.

So, I present to you the good proxies of our fair city (like hell you're getting a name):

Me, Frank: I kill people with a hammer.

The Reverend: I'm not actually sure if this guy's a priest. He's a real weirdo. Looks like someone you'd see playing the piano in a dark room. Not Phantom of the Opera, something like this. You don't want to be alone with him.

Kenny: Kenny... Kenny had some weird fetish stuff going on. So when the Big Guy found him, he must have flipped some switches, because now Kenny is basically an animal. Just this crazed bundle of rape and murder. Leashes are required.

Wake: Sometimes I start to doubt if he remembers all the crazy sadistic stuff he does over the course of a night. We just kind of... find him. In the middle of the road sometimes. Then he tags along, and boy does he add to the team.

Oz: None of us are really in charge, but when Oz talks, we listen. Maybe it's the fact that I actually saw him tear a man's arm off, then drain the blood into his mask, but I seriously never want to cross this guy.

That's the team. Together we cause maybe 20% of the "gang-related" violence in the city. Surprised? Allow me to rant for a while:

In the old days, we had big disasters. Plagues, volcanoes, storms and famine. And you know what? WE STILL HAVE THOSE. These great big problems that wipe out thousands of people in the blink of an eye. The equivalent of entire towns wiped out in an instant, and the crazy thing is, there's still over 7 billion of us. This massive load on the earth, the environment, maybe even the universe. And even when we start killing each other, that number is still going up.

So what I'm saying isn't that I'm a saint for killing people, this grand hero willing to do whatever it takes for the survival of the species, what I'm saying is that I'm doing shit-all in the grand scheme of things. You want to solve a problem, save a few lives? Don't go after me, give your money to some charity fund that will buy people food, try to cure a disease, build better fucking levees. I'm gonna keep smashing skulls in every night for the rest of my life, but I'll never even get close to affecting the world as a whole. Neither will Mister Slender, unless there's some long-term plan going. All in all, it's just not that significant.

Nothing is.

1 comment:

  1. Hehehe... Frankie Frank Frank... Frank, I like you. I like you a lot. You've got... chutzpah. We need to get to know one another. Maybe work together for a bit. We can have tea party, invite all of our favorite frienemies.