Little Angels part 3 -- Finale

Doug swung the screwdriver around like a lightsabre making wooo…wooo… cresss… sounds until he spoke in a muffled voice that was a poor attempt at Darth Vader. “Johnny, I am your father,” said Doug. “Give yourself to the dark side.”

The whole episode destroyed the Pulp Fiction feel of the moment and things became pretty geeky, with both making lightsabre sounds, pretending to be the Emperor and Vader and even once General Grievous.

“Brother, I am so serious, we could kill those bitches with this screwdriver. Just plunge it in to their hearts and we’ll give them the what’s for, no what I mean motherfucker?”

Johnny nodded his head in agreement. So Doug began to walk across McBride, the gusts trying to blow him over and away from the church but he was all good, he made it across. Johnny soon did the same, the winds for some reason trying their hardest to push him over, the rumbling from the skies unearthly.

Upon reaching the Jehovah’s Witness church, the door slammed open, and Doug dove behind a bush. The priest could be heard out the door and Johnny had a peak inside.

“And let there be no young soldier who dies, no blood taken from the arm and given to the arm, and let there be no confusion that the end will come…”

Johnny turned away to see Doug wiping his pants at the thighs, knocking off grass and mud.

“Wholly, holly motherfucker. Did you hear that junk those bitches are listening to? Here.” and Doug handed Johnny the screwdriver. Johnny held on to it tightly and thought long and hard about what he would do with it. “I can’t hold it, you know what I mean?”

The wind kept hollowing, and pulverizing. Johnny kept whispering and stabbing. “If you will not join the dark side then you will die!”

Doug watched and laughed at the sight as Johnny seemed to become more accomplished with the device after each swing. He would alternate between swinging it hard and then light, fast then slow. Each time he did it, Doug seemed to have grown in presence as if the swinging of the screwdriver was interconnected to his puberty.

As the procession ended and the people moved outside in to the violent breeze, hats and hands began to rise to the sky. To Johnny, the churchies looked like little angels falling from heaven, kicked out for some greedy deed.

Doug looked over at Johnny and started to demand that he do what is right, what is necessary, what should be sovereign to him. The big words put a shock in to Johnny.

“No wait a minute, I thought…”

“Do it motherfucker. Don’t be a wuss.”

“Seriously dude, I don’t…” and Doug grabbed the screwdriver, pointing it directly at Johnny’s chest. “You want to be a bitch the rest of your life or do you want to be boss? The choice is clear. Do it!” and he handed the screwdriver back to Johnny.

Jason and Aaron walked out of the church, shivering and lurking. Their hair blew all over the place and then Jason fell over trying to catch his umbrella. It ran away across the lawn, far from where Johnny stood, making it difficult to even threaten him let alone stab him. But the weakling Aaron stood there alone. He turned to see Johnny standing strong, his eyes tearing a whole through his chest.

It would be so easy.

“This is the time to make good, motherfucker,” cried Doug.

Aaron stood, his body appearing more fragile then a 10 year-old should, not knowing what was in the palm of Johnny’s hand – his life.

Johnny counted to one… “Do it!” to two… “His chest, motherfucker!” to three…

Johnny kept his arm down too long and his feet stood like cement statue.

Doug approached Johnny.

“You motherfucker.”