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Fucked Up College Kids File 141
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= F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. =
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Intersection
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It was a sweltering day which had no pretenses of letting up.
Over a thousand people had driven through the intersection today, and
another thousand would be through there in the next hour. The crossroads
weren't the busiest in the town by far, but saw a fair amount of traffic
during rush hour. Cars zipped by creating a steady hum throughout the
intersection, giving it a life of its own.
Twenty-four seconds had passed, and it was almost time for the
lights to change, allowing the smaller of the two roads to empty out.
A click resounded, unheard by anyone, and the light changed to yellow.
Five cars noticed and accelerated to beat the oncoming red light. Another
click and the light changed to red, allowing two more cars to squeeze
through.
The first car slowed to a rough stop, almost going too far into
the intersection. Inside the car, the air conditioner was on high, blowing
into the face of the mayor. In one hand was a pen jotting down notes, and
in the other a cell phone. Despite his status, no one recognized him in
his Cadillac. He was on his way to a meeting with the police commissioner,
and was already five minutes late.
Pulling up next to him in a dark blue suburban, a woman in her
mid forties pulled out her lipstick and began to apply it. In the seat
next to her, her three year old son began yelling about being thirsty.
The back seat was the playground for her six year old son and eight year old
daughter. Behind the back seat were seven bags of groceries. They were
on their way home to make dinner for John when he got home from his
business meetings.
In the third lane, a beat up chevy nova stopped several feet
short of the white line. All of the windows were down allowing the hot
air into the car. The man behind the wheel tapped his finger to the beat
of the music, apparently dreading the heat of the day. Darting from
side to side, his eyes couldn't stay in one place. He was still worried
about being seen by someone that may recognize him for his actions last
night. He had raped and beaten a 72 year old lady walking home from
the local coffee shop.
A loud screech sounded behind the Cadillac, and the driver cursed
and yelled at the boy in the passenger seat. They were seated in a two door
sports car that was the pride and joy of the driving father. He turned
again to his son and cursed at the boy for making him take his eyes off
the road. Reaching over, he placed his hand on the crotch of the boy
and squeezed hard, making the boy yell out in pain. "I'm gonna punish you
later for this boy".
Pulling up behind the suburban, a black geo metro came to a quick
stop. The twenty four year old driver looked all around him at the other
vehicles before popping in another tape. Taking note of the screaming boy
in the car next to him, he glared at the driver of the car to his left
and sneered as they made eye contact. Shaking his head in disdain, he
picked up his Oki and called his friend to tell him he would be a few
minutes late to lunch. They were meeting to make plans for their next hack
into another military computer in search of documents that should be open
to the public.
Behind the chevy nova, a young black man pulled up, smiling
behind the wheel of his new Lexus. He had gotten his promotion to
Regional Manager of the southwest, and had recieved a hefty bonus check
as well as a significant pay raise. The new car was a gift to his new
wife waiting at home. He had been with the company for only six years
and seemed to be flying through the ranks due to his eight years of
business administration in college. Things were going well for him.
The next car rolled up behind the sports car and inched up slowly,
as the driver waited for the light to change. He was still not used to
driving in this state. He had moved here just last week after he watched
local police and FBI break down his door in Ohio. He was wanted by the
FBI for the killing of seven people at a convenience store in Maryland.
He barely remembered that day, but was still on the run because of it.
Behind the geo shaking from the music, a four door white sedan
with government plates pulled to a steady stop. The driver's mission was
surveillance, and nothing more. He was a twenty two year veteran of the
secret service, and specialized in computer crime. He had been tailing
the Cadillac for several miles, monitoring the cell phone conversation
on his own cell phone. His main objective on this assignment was to prove
that the mayor was laundering the cities money and dumping it into his own
accounts in Switzerland.
Twenty-four seconds had passed, and the light clicked to green
allowing traffic to once again pass through the intersection. Almost
as a group, the cars accelerated, heading toward their own direction,
to live their lives as they wanted.
by DisordeR
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= Questions, Comments, Bitches, Ideas, Rants, Death Threats, etc etc... =
= Internet : jericho@netcom.com (Mail is welcome) =
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= Chemical Persuasion 203.324.0894 Celestial Woodlands 214.252.6455 =
= Goat Blowers Anon 215.750.0392 Hacker's Haven 303.343.4053 =
= E.L.F. (NUP) 314.272.3426 Misery 318.625.4532 =
= Dungeon Sys. Inc. 410.263.2258 Psykodelik Images 407.834.4576 =
= Paradise Lost 414.476.3181 Black SunShine 513.891.3465 =
= Digital Fallout 516.378.6640 PSYCHOSiS 613.836.7211 =
= Bad Trip 615.870.8805 (Your board here!@#!) =
= Plan 9 716.881.3663 Phallic Paradise 801.944.7353 =
= Purple Hell 806.791.0747 Logikal Nonsence XXX.XXX.XXXX =
= PuRe EViL (NUP) 905.XXX.XXXX The Keg 914.234.9674 =
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= Files through Anonymous FTP: FTP.NETCOM.COM - /pub/je/jericho/FUCK =
= FTP.FC.NET - /pub/deadkat/misc/FUCK =
= FTP.WINTERNET.COM - /users/craigb/fuck =
= FTP.GIGA.OR.AT - /pub/hackers/zines/fuck =
= ETEXT.ARCHIVE.UMICH.EDU - /pub/Zines/FUCK =
= http://www.ora.com:8080/johnl/e-zine-list/zines/fuck.html =
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