Mannikens want to kill me

mannikens want to kill me

What can I say about it? The mannikens are out to get me. They have always hated me. I remember as a child I would see them turn they're heads to watch me sometimes, it was creepy. Once in junier high I saw one looking in my bedroom window. Scared the fuck out of me , it dashed away. As soon as I could I got a baseball bat , it seemed to me that a bat could bust up a plastic body pretty good. I still went to the mall , especially as a drunken punk teen. But I went with friends , groups of drunk misfits like me. Once while a was walking behind the rest of the group through J C pennys a manniken pushed me down , I fell hard and got a bloody nose. Later that year I bought a shotgun. You can imagine what a shotgun would do to a mannken , hell to a handfull of the bastards.I thought a lot about manikens. They were stiff with few bending parts , and the bending parts would probaly be there bigest weakenss to. Would a blow hard enough to knock one's head off stop it? Kill it? I thought even if they cannot be killed save perhaps for completly melting them surely they can be rendered useless by tearing all the bending parts off.

Then came the day I heard about the theft of two hundred and fifty manikens from a nearby warehouse. If I had a car I would have sped out of town. Instead a kept my weapons close at hand , ready fo break into action at any givien moment, I even would bring the baseball bat in with me when a would take a piss. To the news reporters it was a humerous news story. Bunches of missing mannikens. To me it was deadly serious. No one else I knew had a problem with mannikens , I assumed I was the only one. they hated. This sent a chill through my spine. I made sure all my doors were locked that night , about six checks per door. Than I propped chairs to wedge the doors shut by thier knobs for added protectiion. That night I slept with my baseball bat. I had a nightmare about mannikens staying in a abandoned factory. They made weapons and tools of themselves. Some had rusted barb wire wrapped around their arms and legs. Some had razor blades glued all over their bodies. I woke up screaming when they all turned thier emotionless heads to me in uinison. A couple of times I thought I heard strange sounds when I woke up in the night , but I was never sure , all the same I had my shotgun not far from the bed, mannkens shouldn't be able to use a shotgun. I was pleased when my alarm woke me up for work that morning at eight a m. I got out of bed and hit the shower , a long morning shower takeing extra care to soap up my penis and clean it good , a instant reward for being clean. I towelled off takeing special care to rub my penis till it was dry. I got dressed drank some coffee while surfing the internet for new porn and pirate mp3's , I even ate a couple slices of toast with butter and spearmint jelly. Now it was time to go out that door to my awaiting truck. Trouble is I park in this big shed and there are a lot of trees between here and there where a manniken could hide. I couldn't really get away with takeing a shotgun around with me I figured. If I hung it from the gun rack along the back window my window would be smashed and the gun would be missing by the time I got off work. The baseball bat would have to do. I walked out my door and locked it with the clumsey key. I felt a distint creepyness going up my spine , a feeling like something is wrong. I gripped the bat tight and held it out in front of me. I couldn't stand the thought of those plastic hands touching me. I stalked through the trees and saw nothing wrong. But as I opened the huge manuel garage door awkwardly with the bat in my hand four of the bastards peeked there expresionless heads around the corner. I froze there stareing at these manufactored beings in awe and sick horror. They paused a second seemingly sizeing me up. Then the came in from both sides of the garage running on stiff plastic legs. I lunged the bat forwards , a hard whisteling swing that took a manniken in the chest and ripped an arm off , it collided with a tree and fell with it's head at a twisted angle. I then swung by body violently to the left and swung the bat as hard as I could with me. It caught a manniken full in the face and it's head flew off. I was really freaking out , I began spinning in place and lunging randomly, the bat spiraling in vicious whistleing arcs. I felt it thump into a couple of plastic bodies. I dropped the bat and ran , ran blindly , through trees branches and into open feild. I don't know why animated plastic sentient beings creep me out so much , but they do. I hate them now , I want to melt them all into a rocket and send it into space.