It's almost Halloween as my ears ring. The Tinnitus almost never stops since those three "wild seed pickers" came over to my house last August. While I was about to write about those three evil little cult members and what they did, to give me the Tinnitus. I saw an abandoned black pickup truck out on the road so I drove out there to look at it.
It was an older model, late nineties. Said, Chevy on the passenger side, Jimmy on the tailgate, and Dodge on the driver's side. The plates had a temporary paper license. I wrote them down so the police would know that I did not do it, whatever happened. This guy walked up behind me, a short Hispanic fellow, older...I reminisced about a day with my first Cult Member, the witch. At the time, I did not know about this stupid, insane, world destroying Cult, or that it was really a witch. So, I reminisced off topic:
When you think of a witch, what do you think of?
Is it the stereotype? Some wicked old hag with a cauldron casting spells, a looney, something exotic like Bewitched's Samantha Stevens, played by Elizabeth Montgomery, an idiot following superstitious malarkey, or do you know what they are really like?
A real witch...a member of the Cult - looks normal. Acts normal. This one made brains for trident missile systems, sidewinders, and all sorts of high tech stuff, since it had a top secret clearance, maybe even designed them and she said she cast spells and there was love potion number 9, which I must have drank.
We walked down first street in broad daylight, San Jose, California Silicon Valley. It was summer maybe one in the afternoon. The streets waited for sunset, the cooling. Once I walked across the street barefoot on a day like this and blisters erupted over my feet. One was three inches in diameter.
"That man in the building over there is so evil. Wait here. I am going to get him." It said. The building was might have been a quarter mile away and we stood on a kitty corner street across from it.
Suddenly, like Samantha Stevens on bewitched it snapped its fingers and disappeared. The building it pointed to was probably ten or eleven stories high and a fixture downtown at that time. Silicon Valley was just getting rolling. The internet did not exist unless one was in government, especially top secret research. The internet was not public for another ten years. Now, San Jose had 200,000 people. It was sleepy suburbia and traffic was nothing compared to today.
Suddenly the whole building flashed...or oozed energy for a second. Maybe five seconds later - POP!
"I got him!" I jumped back to see smoke rising from her fingers as she reappeared in the same spot. She wiped her hands repeatedly to get rid of the residue of his filth, "One pervert freak gone."
"What do you mean gone?"
"I zapped his happy ass." she looked at me for approval as I stared gawking, stuttered,
"You zapped him?"
"Yeah. He's dead. Shazam! I zapped him."
"You killed him?"
"Yep."
"Without a trial?" I heard sirens approaching not too far away, a half mile maybe.
"We better start walking. Never laugh when the hearse goes by because you might be the next to die." She guffawed.
So we started to walk away from the building. And sure enough as I looked over my shoulder at the sound ambulances, police, and fire engines showed, slowed and came to a stop right in front of the towering offices. "All that for one guy?"
"There was collateral damage. His minions. You know how it is."
I did not know how it was. Flabbergasted. Dumbstruck. I did not know what to believe. Never saw or heard of anything like this? You? Did it really "zap" a whole bunch of perverts a minute or two ago? I am a man and I can see a long way away. Those gurneys had bodies on them and the sheets were over the heads. "You did that?"
"Yeah. Sometimes God is busy so I take care of child molesters like those sickos."
"God was busy?"
"Yeah. I am authorized. Don't worry about it."
What was I with?
"Oh look, I did the world a favor. The police would thank me. You're moping so you must be hungry. Let's get something to eat. What do you want to eat?"
True I was hungry. So, I suggested Togo's. I always ate two large. Usually it was a meatball and an Italian, number 16. But forth this, it was a pastrami, meatball, and an Italian. She ate the same. Zapping or "Shazaming "must take a lot of energy. Back then it wasn't even twenty bucks.
I was so full. I could hardly move. She was the same. I was too full to think about much. I never forgot the incident but I rationalized it away because I had not actually seen it happen. Now that I think about it, had I been there when it happened, I might have rode the gurney covered with a sheet.
The three wild seed pickers were camped at the spring just northeast a country smidge.
I walked up to them and tried to explain, my Spanish out of practice horrible, don't drink the water from the spring unless you boil it first, it will give you a cough and make you sick for six months. Mexicans, or so I thought, they did not understand a thing I said and so I went back to the house, used the computer to translate, and returned to say, No beba el agua del resorte a menos que usted lo hierva primero, le dará una tos y le hará enfermo por seis meses.
Two of them laughed there asses off. The two held a beer in one hand and picked seeds with the other. The third guy, Eduardo as I later found out turned green.
"You speak Spanish, " Eduardo asked in English after he recovered from the shock.
"Rusty. I used the computer but I can read Spanish, pronounce it." I replied.
"Are you serious?" Eduardo asked.
"It has been a long time, about six years ago, a sunny August summer day just like this one. I was walking, picking up nails on the road, was thirsty, and it tasted delicious."
"Enferma seis meses?" The older one with the beer slurred.
"Si. Vaya con Dios. Caucion, No?
"Si." I walked back to the house. I was working on steemit.
The older came over to the house an hour before dusk near dusk. He turned out to be a Cult member. After they left, I found the fake plates tossed aside on the ground. Drug Smugglers. Cult members. What was that stiletto E sharp sound?
Smuggler drop plane - the dot in the middle at about fence height. The substitute fentanyl for opiates to get users, the Cult does.
Looking for adventure? Wanna be Heroic? Wanna fight pure evil and utter stupidity? Make a plaque like the one above. Secrecy and stealth is your greatest defense. Join the Quest! Save Steemit and Save the world. Coincidence? They busted a Hispanic hacker a could of days ago in California somewhere who robbed me the day before of everything. Funny, the very next day Steemit wallets were up and working on the exchanges again. Thanks cyber security folks. Not enough words can be said in appreciation.