…Best Served Cold?

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Judd knocked on the door and Williams looked out through the side window wondering what the hell the terminated employee was doing on his front porch.  The crazed man had the rifle up close to the door and out of view.  The African-American district manager was so arrogant that he promptly opened the door and aggressively began asking:  “What the hell are you doing here…”

But these would be the last words he ever said to anyone else as the AR-15 came up into view.  Now the snobby bastard was actually at a loss for words.  Judd was quite amused, grinning just before he unloaded the weapon into his first victim.

“Fuck you!  You may have taken my job, but I am taking your life!”  The AR-15 had never felt better firing as it did at that moment!  The first three shots – thundering loudly across this premiere Birmingham neighborhood – entered his abdomen and then exited in big, bloody chunks of tissue, making an ungodly mess of the previously gorgeous and spotless staircase just behind him.  Williams’ body jolted back and forth with each shot.  Only the first of the next three shots landed on its target, point blank against his forehead.  His head exploded sending blood everywhere as the next two shots were fired in a random direction after the rest of his body fell hard to the ground.  Judd was covered in the bastard’s blood and brain matter.  Inside the house, Williams’ kids ran away from the living room, screaming for their mother!

Not even phased by what he had just done – not only to his former district manager, but also his family – now Judd walked purposefully back to his vehicle, got in, and peeled out of the driveway headed for his next target.  Across the street, the stunned neighbor frantically read off the guy’s license plate to the 9-1-1 operator.  — Excerpt from 2018: An Uncivil War

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