Live By The Gun Chapter II

Simon's Vacation

One year had passed since Vinny's death. Simon heard it from the news and the remainder of his family refused to let him into the funeral, blaming him for the death of their loved one. The bastards hadn't realized that Vinny was his friend, hell maybe even a little more than that. So that pissed him off real good. Soon after the only thing, Vinny's family would remember of him was a note on the coffin as he did some redecorating with the hot water heater. Word to the stupid never fuck around with an angry lumberjack. Yep, as it turns out Vinny was Canadian and that was where Simon came first for answers about his death. All he got was that Vinny tried to escape prison and had a heart attack. But that was such a shit ending to what could have been a great biography. So Simon did what any dramatic anti-hero does he looks out from the balcony of his cabin in the forest. But this one's not his, nah this was some rich doucebag's house with a hooker named My Wife. It was weird. Anyway, Simon shot the both of them and kinda took over their house. It was pretty sweet besides the bloodstains here and there that he was too lazy cleanup. It had nice woodwork and a hot box of rocks that was a T.V so Simon figured he'd stay here for awhile. Although whatever direct program that was on had nothing on the view of that balcony. The local fire department was trying to put out the fire that was playing with the remains of Vinny's family. A smile etched itself upon his face. He loved it when cruel people got what they deserved. He turned sat back down on his couch and flicked on the T.V. It was a news bulletin about how president Gilmore had declared war on India for some tax war or some shit. Simon didn't really care. Politics were beyond him or was he beyond them? Who cares. The only thing that concerned Simon was what to do now? He couldn't go off and find himself because he's right fucking there. And other than becoming a serial killer like some Ted Bundy wannabe, he didn't really have a plan as to where the hell his life needs to be heading. Maybe a clown? Nah people hate clowns. Simon supposed he could go cross country see the sights. Besides other than Vinny everyone thought he died in the car crash that Vinny apparently caused with his affiliation with the mob. Shame really, Simon thought Vinny and Adria would've made a handsome couple. Even if Simon would've been just a little jealous, but fuck it, life doesn't play favorites. The sins of the fathers are given to the sons. That's why Simon killed his, motherfucker. But as the T.V played some teen love story about high school, Simon decided something. He needed a lover. Someone he could talk to, hold and admire. It was at that moment his door was kicked in by the police. They were Canadian so when Simon started to open fire and killed two of them the rest ran like bitches. Simon snuck out the back and hopped on his motorcycle. Sadly this too wasn't Simon's, so he damn near fell off it as he sped into the road like a jackrabbit on crack. But amazing grip strength from his lonely days in hiding helped him to stay on. The cops as far as he noticed gave up the goose as crossed the border into America on an old backtrail that nobody but him and his sister ever bothered to look for. So his search for love in an unforgiving hellspawn that was Montana had begun. He rode into a small town that he never bothered to remember. As all love stories go he ended up in a local coffee shop. He saw his first attempt sitting alone at a booth sipping a black liquid that he would say is coffee but at this place who the hell knows. He sat next to her and she looked a little surprised at his sudden interaction with her.

"Hey, name's Simon. How are you?" He said.

"Who the fuck are you?" She asked a little scared.

"Like I already said, I'm Simon." He said.

Now what Simon hadn't realized is that his voice was scarier that rabid dog at a nude beach. Vinny and Adria had gotten used to it and had subconsciously hardened themselves to it as one does the hum of a refrigerator. This girl, however, hadn't and as Simon kept talking the more frightened she became.

"Look, Simon, I have somewhere I need to be so if we could just do this some other time."

"Sure, sure. How 'bout tomorrow?" He said the smile never waiving from his face.

She nodded and walked away quickly hoping the man she just met would stop staring at her ass. Simon, on the other hand, knew she wasn't going to come back. No one ever does. He sat back in his chair and waited for nothing. He just soaked in the atmosphere and watched the people do. Maybe love just wasn't in the cards for Simon. After all, he kinda killed everybody he knew except for Vinny and his sister, and they were the only ones he ever really cared about. So after a few hours of terrified staring, he decided what he needed was a long holiday to himself. Where he could think about how to best guide his life to the green pasture ahead. Simon always had a knack for guitar so maybe he could just buy one of those and enjoy a nice long break from killing people. Yeah, that'd be nice, he could just play guitar across country and chill. But he kinda didn't have any money on him so where to get it. Dishearted he walked to park where some people were partying and joking around, and of course, there was that one douchebag who played an emotional song with an acoustic guitar. Simon then knew exactly what to do. First, he got the guy drunk, lured him into the away from prying eye into the wooded mountain area and then killed him by shoving a huge stick up his ass and impaling him. Simon admired his handy work, drowned the other to guys who wanted to know 'what the fuck the fags were up to' and left with a new guitar in hand ready to start a new life with new people. And maybe just maybe there would be a lady who loved a man with a guitar.