The Many Deaths of Holdout


“Alright, let’s have a word here, gentlemen, while we have time. I’d just like you folks to get a sense of me and the kind of man I am. I just want you all to know that this is going to hurt you a lot more than it’s going to hurt me.”

*Muffled mumbling*

“You might be wondering why I called you all here together to day. If you are, I’m doing the world a favor by keeping you from having children. Don’t bother struggling. You aren’t going to be able to break free of that adhesive. It’s amazing the things you can do with peanut butter. Now, if anyone here feels they have been unfairly beaten over the head with a bat and restrained, I am willing to field some questions. Give you a few last words. Now, who wants their gag off first? You there, with the broken nose.”

“You better let me go or so help me God I’ll-“

“Shut the hell up, that’s what you’ll do. Next!”

“Please, man, you don’t have to do this,” “Why?” “come on, it’s… it- it, it’s Dave’s birthday!”

“Oh is that true? Shut the facehole! There.” *Footsteps* “You’re Dave? Happy Birthday Dave. You know, birthdays are a happy time for some, usually youngsters, or young’uns to use the vernacular. Not to be confused with onions, which, unlike teenagers, make you cry when you cut them. What I find when I think about a birthday is that it’s this one day where you have to admit you’re older. That, or a good time for your wife to go ‘Sure, why not stick it in my ass?’ Which I don’t have to tell you is rhetorical question. Do you have a wife?”

*Muffled affirmation*

“Oh yeah, good to know. The other thing about birthdays is that people contemplate mortality on their birthday. You’re lucky. You get a consultation with an expert in mortality. Um, by the way here pal. Hey, cut that out, what am I going to do, squeeze your shoulders until you die? Anyway, I wanted to ask you something, man to man, buddy to buddy. It’s a delicate subject, but…how long after you die can I start nailing your wife?”

*Muffled yelling*

“I take it you don’t approve of my plans to bend her over your washing machine while she’s got whipped cream on her knees and a cucumber shoved up her tailpipe. That’s what women have, right, tailpipes?”

*Banging of a human head on a metal wall accompanied by frantic noises of struggle*

“I’ll take that as an ‘Over my dead body’ so, you know it’s not really specific after today. I’ll be more subtle about it and see if it grows in her, on her, I meant on her.”

*More gagged screaming*

“Hell, you’ve all been spreading rumors about me. Maybe I ought to just whip it out here and go to town. What’s that? You look like you have something to say. Here, let me get that.”

“You aren’t going to rape us are you? Please, don’t-“

*Something fleshy slams against metal.*

“IT IS TOO LATE TO ‘PLEASE’ ME! Frankly I’m offended you think this can all be avoided by a bunch of guys in a van pleasing me. If you wanted to say please, it should have been ‘Please, sir, can we shut up really hard rather than blab to everyone around about you looking like you were banging a teen sidekick with a nice ass that you were killing. Killing the sidekick, that is, not the sweet, sweet ass.’ But you didn’t. You who work in the business of moving secret equipment for known criminals to secret lairs didn’t keep a secret. This can only mean one thing.”

*Paper crinkling*

“Now, let’s put your thought processes down on paper, shall we? ‘Dear friends, loved ones, and Dave’s soon-to-be-wheelchair-bound-from-excessive-fucking wife.’ Calm down Dave! ‘We, the bodies you are about to find, have grown weary of this life. There is only so many great works of literature you can read, so many impressive artworks to contemplate, so many vampire killer stories of dead presidents you can snub for the Oscars, and so many things you can shove up your ass and enjoy the funny feelings. Not for you, Dave’s wife, but for everyone else. We have reached our limit on all of these things and more. Now that we have lived life to its fullest, we have taken it on ourselves to commit suicide. Suicide by Gecko. To this end, we have spread some COMPLETELY false rumors about him and a certain teen sidekick. We would ask that you disregard those rumors. We also ask that you remember us not as the assholes we were, but as the full blown raging assholes we secretly were online. P.S. Dave’s wife, medically speaking, it’s healthier to do it up the butt.’”

“Now that that’s out of the way, I would like to show you men this. To the naked eye, this appears to be a banana. Those of you who served in the military had to learn how to defend yourself from one of these in basic hand to hand. What makes this one different is, you guessed it, an incendiary device. Smart crowd. I’m just going to leave this here, and when I push this little button on the device in my hand, your bananas are going to fry.”

*Struggling, rustling, and gagged pleas for help*

“Huh…any of the rest of y’all see that motorcycle back there? That guy there looks familiar. Here, I’ll tell you guys what. I’m going to leave Mr. Banana back here with you guys. You take good care of it. And I’m going to hop in the driver’s seat and take a little drive over Holdout. I don’t know how he keeps surviving, but I know I have a moving van here. As we all well know, vans are dangerous to underage people.”

*Engine starts up and radio turns on. Psycho Gecko sings along*

“There’s a path running under the city, where the stones and the hills divide. There’s a path we can walk through the loss and the pity…good song, you don’t usually hear these guys on the radio. Appropriate band for the occasion, Dave! Alright, chums up, let’s do this, Leerooooooooy-!”

*Squealing tires*

*Transcript Ends*

Took care of that damn Holdout. Again. A truck to the face ought to finish what the potty rocket apparently didn’t. Either he was following me or he tracked the license plate number of the moving van. Now I know how curiosity felt.

Oh, and the Screwhaul guys are taken care of. I’m thinking of going to Dave’s funeral and comforting his widow, but we’ll see if I’m going to be busy killing Holdout again.




6 thoughts on “The Many Deaths of Holdout

  1. Pingback: The Few Deaths of Holdout | World Domination in Retrospect

  2. Pingback: The Death of a Feud (Special Almost Double Size Update!) | World Domination in Retrospect

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