It was the beginning of a sadistic joke. Willy strutted down the street in full Silly Willy gear, with a bag strapped over his shoulder full of Molotov Cocktails. From around his waist an I-Pod playing George Thorogood’s Bad to the Bone. However, it was drowned out by the sound of his own laughter. One by one he lit the alcohol soaked rags, igniting a flame, then casually tossed them through store windows aligned along the street. With each toss the sound of the windows smashing proceeded that of the buildings going up in flames, as fire balls exploded from contact. After five or six of these, the streets were covered in layers of thick smoke as the glow from the flickering fires lit the night. But Willy was far from finished. He had more than enough bottles to burn down the entire neighborhood and no desire to stop. With a sadistic jovial tone he shouted, “Knock Knock anyone?” as he lit another bottle and playfully waited for a never coming answer. By now, the store owners were running out screaming, wildly while their flesh burned away. Even children as young as five ran through the streets in a panic, as their little bodies went up in flames. But to Willy their screams were only an annoyance like a heckler in a night club interrupting him before a great punch line.
Suddenly a blue light shone across his face as squad after squad of police cars arrived on the scene. Within seconds armed guards littered the streets, with there guns drawn, hiding behind the safety of their car doors. The officer in charge raised his megaphone and after a loud screech sound shouted, “Put your hands up and lay down on the ground, or we will open fire!” With a raised eyebrow, Willy looked them up and down judging as only he could and replied, “Owe, so you’ve come to play!” Like a good boy he slowly lowered his bag to the ground complying with their every wish and even extended his arms outwards ready to be cuffed. But instead of laying face down on the street, he openly mocked the officer in charge by saying, “come and get me........officer..” Like a hoard of ants the police swarmed in followed by waves of waves of firemen with asbestos blankets to aide the burning victims. Soon Willy was surrounded by a professional SWAT team with all their weapons drawn shouting one over the other that he was under arrest. As one lone officer began placing his cuffs around Willy’s wrists, another stood in front of him informing him of his rights. In a stern tone filled with hate, he yelled, “You sick piece of garbage, you have the right to go to hell and if you resist us we’ll be happy to send you there!” By now the men surrounding Willy were happily beating him up an down with their batons paying close attention to the back of his knees. But with every strike against him his flesh seemed to absorb the blow as if they were hitting against play-doe or some other kind of malleable substance.
Slowly, and in a dark and disturbing way, Willy raised his head up to lock eyes with the officer before him and after a short chuckle for himself, uttered the two words, “Knock Knock?” As he did his eyes widened like a lost child, glaring outwards for a answer, but all he received in response was the Officer in charge saying back, “Just who are you?” Immediately Willy’s face took on a haunted tone of rage as his every muscle twitched in anger. His eyes now two daggers piercing deep within the unsuspecting fool, he somehow manages to force out the words, “Who are you? Who are you? EVERYBODY KNOWS THE ANSWER IS......WHO’S THERE!!!!!!!” Now angered beyond his limits Willy easily slips his hands through his cuffs, as if his bones bent and twisted out of normal human capabilities. Then, just as his cuffs fell to the ground he reached into his bag of tricks pulling out a child's sized rubber chicken and raised it up in an aggressive way, shouting, “You have ruined my joke for the last time!” In one brisk swing, he struck his special toy against the man’s head, dislocating it from his spine and sending it clear across the street, where it rolled safe out of harms way next to the burnt corpse of an elderly man. As the mans lifeless body fell to the ground before him, spilling blood upon the street, Willy looked around expecting to see a crowd of people laughing and praising his unique style of humor, as he comments, “well what do you know, looks like he lost his head over that one” followed with a few short snickers just for himself.
Immediately several gun shots roared as the SWAT team opened fired on Willy’s position. In seconds hundreds of military grade shells littered the street as bullet after bullet riddled through his body. For the most part, his body adsorbed the shots, catching them in the folds of his flesh as his body moved and wiggled around them. But for the shots at point blank range, they riddled through his flesh blasting out the other side, spilling a jelly like substance along the street next to him. Immediately Willy’s face took on a serious tone, sending a frightening chill down the spines of the men around him as he flinched from the minor pain he felt in his body. But as soon as the shots hit, the wounds to his body healed as his flesh sealed up around them leaving his body none the worse for wear. As for the jelly like substance split across the street, the odd material began eating away at the concrete, melting it at an immense rate like a strong acidic chemical stronger than the most powerful acid known to man.
Now bored with the whole situation, he yawned as to say, ‘None of you interest me anymore,’ he stepped forward while the SWAT team was reloading. But as he stepped forwards, instead of planting his foot on the ground, he miraculously stepped upwards into the air, and with each step that followed he rose higher and higher. To the shock of the men below him, he was now walking away in the very air above them, looking down upon them like a God to the ants below. With a simple “Always leave them with a bang!” he once again removed the bag of Molotov Cocktails from his shoulder and with a good heave, tossed the remaining bottles down all at once, right down upon the center of them all. Immediately a huge fire ball erupted as all the bottles went up together, obliterating whatever was left of the street. As the streets residents, police and even firemen, burned alive with screams of agony, all Willy could think was, “At least they went out Roasted” at which point he giggled at his play on words!
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