Now I know there's no one I can trust - I used to think there was
you can tell me that I'm cutthroat but I think you've got your eyes closed
you can tell me that I'm cutthroat but I think you've got your eyes closed
Bart's no fuckin' Yank, but maybe he should have realized that rats can swim, even if they are of unusual size. What had started as a dip in the lake to cool off from the summer sun had ended up with him right...about...here:
"FUCK! GET OFFA ME!"
It's hard to kick something furry and wet with bare feet, but after a few good tries (and a few painful bites to his calf) his attacker makes a gross squeak-squeal and goes tumbling, knocking back a few of its friends. Bart takes the opening and abandons his clothes for some lucky future sonuvabitch, only snatching up his jacket as he goes sprinting off into the surrounding brush.
He doesn't know how far he makes it before things go a little topsy-turvy and he faceplants, sprawled in a bush that seems about as happy with the circumstances as Bart himself. He goes limp there, staring at the sky; soaked, down to just his boxers, leg bleeding, and leather jacket held in one loose hand. "What the fuck is my life," he groans.
"FUCK! GET OFFA ME!"
It's hard to kick something furry and wet with bare feet, but after a few good tries (and a few painful bites to his calf) his attacker makes a gross squeak-squeal and goes tumbling, knocking back a few of its friends. Bart takes the opening and abandons his clothes for some lucky future sonuvabitch, only snatching up his jacket as he goes sprinting off into the surrounding brush.
He doesn't know how far he makes it before things go a little topsy-turvy and he faceplants, sprawled in a bush that seems about as happy with the circumstances as Bart himself. He goes limp there, staring at the sky; soaked, down to just his boxers, leg bleeding, and leather jacket held in one loose hand. "What the fuck is my life," he groans.
Feel the fear and swallow back the tears
let weakness disappear
let weakness disappear
BARTHOLOMEW
