Methed out skinheads from Missouri

gay billy's trailer

The thin bald man crept through the shadows moving between rusted out cars, broke down kitchen appliances, piles of tires and trash.  Basic training years ago had taught him how to move like a soldier and how to shoot like one. His older brother had taught him how to kill. He'd left his truck about a quarter mile back so as not to give away the element of surprise with its loud engine but when he'd got within 100 yards or so from the trailer, the location of his target, he realized it wouldn't have mattered. The small dwelling was lit up with light like a tacky Christmas tree. There was purple and green and orange, the owner Gay Billy's favorite colors, who thought of himself as the Joker. The thin man moved closer until he was up against the trailer. He dropped to a knee and reached into his pocket and pulled out the small baggie. He opened the bag and dumped about a gram's worth of white powder onto the back of his hand.  He lifted to his nose and snorted it all. His last bump till his brother made him more. Sweet nectar of the gods. Meth. Killing fuel. AC/DC's Highway to Hell was blasting through speakers in the trailer. The thin man nodded his head to the sound. The chemicals were hittin him. Now was the time. 

Gay Billy was sitting butt naked on a ripped up old leather couch in the living room. He was doing lines of meth off a coffee table he'd got from goodwill. His head was down when the front door flew open.  A thin man he recognized stood in the doorway, gun in hand.

Whoa whoa whoa, easy there Bones. Gay Billy said raising both hands in deference. The thin man pointed the gun towards him.

Where is she? The thin man asked.

Easy there. I don't know Bonesy, but she ain't here. Gay Now put the gun down and  come over here and do a line with me. Gay Billy said, then he lowered a hand and patted on the couch, before reaching in and pulling out a .22 pistol from in between the cushions. He caught the thin man by surprise and fired the first shot which nicked the thin man's ear, taking the top of it off. The thin man fired the second shot, then the third, then the fourth fifth and sixth, until his clip was empty. 

Fuggin green harred faggit. The thin man said before spitting on Gay Billy's corpse. He bent over and snorted the rest of the lines off the table. Before he could stand up he felt a sharp pain in his side. A woman was on his back pulling his hair, scratching his face, screaming YOU KILLED MY BROTHER YOU SON OF A BITCH. The thin man flipped the woman over onto the coffee table splitting it in two. It dazed her giving the thin man just enough time to reach down and pull the buck knife sticking out from his side. Blood gushed out of his wound all over the floor and onto the woman. She kicked him in the crotch dropping him to a knee. She got up and started running toward a back bedroom hoping to lock herself away.  She nearly made it.

But then the thin man was on her.