Discotheques are an endangered species in America, thanks to
a population that mostly couldn’t give less than half of a fuck if it
tried. But today’s demolition will be
special because you, the Disco Destroyer, famed harbinger of doom to
discotheques who specializes in mirrored ball and mirrored wall disposal
(discos normally become a terrifying ring of shrapnel when they’re destroyed
with normal methods) will be arriving at the doorstep of America’s last
discotheque today.
When you pull up outside it in your aging Toyota pick-up, a
small collection of aging German ex-patriots will be arrayed in a disorganized
picket along the sidewalk.
“DISCO CANNOT DIE!” a man with graying hair will shout at
you from his post while he clutches a sign declaring “DISKO IMORTALLE”[sic]. You’ll just shake your head and turn on the
P.A. in your truck.
“Free cocaine down the road,” you’ll mumble into it.
The Germans will look at one another for a moment, licking
their lips expectantly. They’ll huddle
together, then gibber at one another in their foul native tongue. After ten or fifteen minutes of intense
conversation, the huddle will break and the Germans will trail off down the
road at a trot.
That will leave you, with a grin on your face and a whistle
brewing in your lips, to calmly set your explosives and arrange for the
implosion of the last American Discotheque.
Cocaine and date rape rates will shoot down in the neighborhood
immediately after you push the detonator.
Children murdered by impossibly high drivers receiving blowjobs from
aging prostitutes will become a thing of the past. And if it gets a few German people to leave
America… Well, you’re okay with that
too.
Congratulations Disco Destroyer!
No comments:
Post a Comment