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‘The Fuggin’ Russian’
Harrowing Transport Tale #2 from Mescaline Franklin with Crackpot Advice: 6/18/2022
© 2022 James LaFond
NOV/28/22
“James, happy Father’s day. You’ve brought more men into the world than a dozen women.”
-Mister Saffrono, 6/19/2022
“The fellow that brought you to the house [repeats name] I think he scared my wife more than you did, James! If I didn’t know you the shotgun would have been out when I saw you walking up the driveway. He’s a nice guy though. Do you know what the tattoos mean, what they say, it looked like another language. I’ll ask him next time—seems like a real solid guy. Can he fight?”
“Good, good, James. Maybe he can train with Brett and help him while you are hoping trains around the country and living the life. James, let me ask you, are there any women out there on the Amtrak, attractive women, women who might be desperate enough for an old buzzard like you?”
“That’s nice, James. I’ve noticed that too since The Vid, that women once again appreciate a man holding a door, helping her out. It’s a shame it took the world going to hell for it to come back.”
-Man in The Hat, 7:15 A.M., 6/21/2022, Gun Bunker, Maryland
Main Monologue by the Tattooed Man Referenced Above
I was on the train, headed to work, not headed home. Maybe that is why it went this way, because I wasn’t tired. The train wasn’t packed, wasn’t empty, pretty much everybody sitting by themselves. One thing about New Yorkers, is you know you don’t want to sit next to another New Yorker, because we’re all shitty people.
[harsh laughter, drinks of his beer out of a tall hour-shaped glass and smacks lips]
There is this nice little Chinese lady, a cute woman and this fuggin’ Russian, this lowlife, this scum, this fuggin’ criminal piece-of-shit, starts on her. This guy is saying suggestive things to her, like he wants to do this and that to her and she is terrified, she is shaking. And of course, none of these tough New York people are goin’ ta do a thing!
I think Ligoti is right, that humanity is an accident, and out of bounds DNA replication cycle. The meteor needs ta hit this fuggin’ place! Anyways, let me calm down and enjoy this beer—our slave drink. At least we have our slave drink, something good came of grain, can drink this and kill a little pain.
Now, this woman is small, defenseless, and she’s not some negro beast, not some white Kunt! So I’m not having it. I stand up and look at this guy:
[stands from chair and glares into the unjust past like Conan blazing eyes at a sorcerer, face contorted in a snarl]
“Hey buddy! Whad da fuck you think yer doin’! Ha? Cut it out—now!”
Bro please don’t write this the way it sounds. I hate the way I sound, like some guido galoot!
[Sorry, Bro, good material is good material!]
So, this Fuggin’ Russian starts flexing on me, mugging like he’s gonna make it a thing en he ain’t makin’ shit. I’m gonna break a piece off a dis motherfucker. He ain’t black, he ain’t rich, he ain’t some fucking [Chaldean], I can taste it, I’m wreckin’ his world!
So we’re about ta go. I gotta give it ta da Russians, they ain’t bitches like American men, dey ain’ all show en no go like ոiggers. This guy was good for it even though he was wrong.
So this older working guy stands up and backs me up and says, “Yeah buddy, what da ya think yer doin’! Back off. Get lost, pal!”
I guess it was a good thing, like the old New York you’d see in some movie.
Now, what would James LaFond have done?
Should I have done any different?
Crackpot Comments
I would have watched the threatening of, terrorizing of and abduction of that Chinese woman and have done absolutely nothing, unless she asked me specifically for help and made eye contact with me. Now, if she gave me the impression that she would have sex with me in return for protection, I would just use my empty hands to spear, rake and gouge his eyes and then escort her to the nearest cheap motel. I can take out most men with dirty tactics without a knife, so long as he is alone and not a superior specimen.
My main reason for preferring the knife is my hatred of The World and wanting to afront it and afright its demonic meat sticks. To me, lethal combat with the damned is just a way to flip the finger to Satan one last time before escaping his prison. But if there is pussy to be had, an Asian at that, well, I might behave more reasonably, but never heroically, as you did. I would never ever say a word, but strike from silence.
At my age, unless I thought she’d have sex with me, I would demand payment, knife the man, scalp [1] him, and then pretended to have a heart attack and curl up so I could stab at least one of the responding cops in the neck before they put me down and sent off this miserable planet into Eternity. As a younger man I would have knifed him and run off and hid from the police.
Barring any specific challenge to my honor I would have simply used her as a writing subject in fiction and nonfiction. I did this with an Asian woman who I knew was being trafficked against her will on the #7 train headed to Portland 3 years ago. I did nothing.
Now, if the Russian saw me observing and threatened me, I would butcher him. But it would not come to that. Savages, like dogs, “know.”
I am convinced that the reason why hundreds of Negrodon tribesmen have hunted me and then backed off when my usually unseen hand found the cold steel in the pocket, that their subhuman dog-like instincts informed them of what was intended in my mind. Dogs, likewise, when attacking me in Baltimore, have backed off when my hand went to the knife its lover.
So, I think the Russian would have fled as soon as my hand found its lover and I would not have given vent to my deep desire to butcher the deserving. I believe that we live in Satan’s realm and that its denizens deserve our monstrous attention when they place us few surviving souls in extremity. In my mind most people are zombies, meat without souls, mere cackling, heckling marionettes of their evil master.
What you did was perfect and, unfortunately, socially acceptable. In a just society he would have been strung up from a rope at the next train stop and left hang for the crows.
Notes
-1. In order to sell books posthumously for Miss Lockhart. “Hobo Historian Scalps Man” would make national news. I have recently decided that if I am forced to use a knife to maintain my honor [autonomy] that I will scalp the attacker as a final publicity stunt. It is supposed to make a popping sound.
‘Out There’
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‘This Fuggin’ Gorilla’
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the lesser angels of our nature
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all-power-fighting
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the greatest lie ever sold
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night city
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wife—
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when you're food
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on the overton railroad
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into leviathan’s maw
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advent america
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within leviathan’s craw
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sorcerer!
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winter of a fighting life
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fanatic
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predation
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menthol rampage
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blue eyed daughter of zeus
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book of nightmares
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cracker-boy
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on combat
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the first boxers
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taboo you
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thriving in bad places
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son of a lesser god
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by the wine dark sea
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honor among men
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song of the secret gardener
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the gods of boxing
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fate
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the year the world took the z-pill
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time & cosmos
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dark, distant futures
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orphan nation
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broken dance
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masculine axis
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the combat space
NC     Nov 29, 2022

quote from above "I would have watched the threatening of, terrorizing of and abduction of that Chinese woman and have done absolutely nothing, unless she asked me specifically for help and made eye contact with me. Now, if she gave me the impression that she would have sex with me in return for protection, I would just use my empty hands to spear, rake and gouge his eyes and then escort her to the nearest cheap motel. I can take out most men with dirty tactics without a knife, so long as he is alone and not a superior specimen."
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