Jack Tait is real. most people are fake.

Jack Tait decided that it was time to inflict pain on the assholes who attempted to ruin his life.  the rich assholes who never looked in the mirror and blamed everyone else for their fledgling businesses…their fledgling lives.  divorces and bankruptcies.  failed friendships and failed sexual encounters.  the phonies who ruled the world but who actually had small dicks and no balls.  short fat bald assholes who overcompensated for being geeks in high school.  Jack Tait was sickened by this type of behaviour and because he woke up today with a pulsating nut that was in severe pain he decided that it was time.  “FUCK YOU YOU MAGGOTS AND PHONIES AND ABUSIVE SHORT FUCKERS!!!  I WILL GET MY REVENGE.  YOU WILL SQUEAL LIKE THE LITTLE PIGS THAT YOU ARE!!!”
  these rich fake geeks had fake friends and fake dinners.  fake wives and fake daughters.  fake everything but all of these fake fuckers were geeks who fed each other fake bullshit and fake boredom.  geeks supporting geeks.  maggots and trolls.  fat and ugly.  ugly personalities combined with fake ugly hair and fake ugly tits and fake ugly cars.  “fake.  fake.  fake.  ALL OF YOU PEOPLE ARE FAKE AND I WILL UNLEASH ALL OF MY RAGE ON YOUR POOR LITTLE PEASANT LIKE BRAINS!!!”
  Jack Tait walked to the side of his shitty house and grabbed his Louisville Slugger.  he hopped on his blue tricycle and rode to the end of his long driveway.  he jumped off of his bike and started swinging his bat…for practice.  one duck.  two ducks.  three ducks.  four.  Jack Tait jumped back onto his blue tricycle and rode on.  the Louisville Slugger in his right hand.  Jack Tait rode and rode and rode some more.  he was red with rage.  red with sweat.  red with booze.  he was on a mission and this mission was going to be won.  most of Jack’s missions lost but not this one.  sixty years of frustration with fake fuckers.  his rage was ready to come out.  “why do people hurt each other?”  Jack asked the hamster on the side of the road.  the hamster ignored Jack but the rich fake assholes could not. 
  after four hours of riding and four hours of sweating Jack arrived at his destination.  the Park Lawn Tennis Club.  a place where rich fucking fake skinny pansies pretended they were cool and all laughed at each other’s dull jokes and talked about their dull wives and fake lives.  a place where the geeks had an audience while their wives were at the spa and then Starbuck’s.  a whole pile of sloppy runny light brown shit!!! 
  Jack Tait walked through the white fake front doors and began swinging.  began smashing.  a full on rampage.  screams and yelps replaced fake laughs and fake talks.  blood everywhere.  one by one the maggots hit the floor while Jack swung his bat.  Jack also stomped on their bald heads.  some of these rich fake fucks’ wigs fell off into a sea of red blood without guts.  Jack Tait then arrived at the ONE asshole who was the ring leader of all the fake fucks who tried to ruin his life with all of his fake rules and fake judgements.  THE LEADER OF THE MAGGOTS.  “Hey Jack…how are you fine fellow?  I think you are soooo good at what you do Jack.  I would love to help you out in any way possible.  TRUST ME.”  Jack knew when someone said, “TRUST ME”, they meant “I WILL FUCK YOU” so Jack pulled this maggots pants down and laughed at his small penis.  he then asked him to recite some quotes from some boring books that the leader of the maggots always wanted Jack to read.  but the maggot didn’t know anything about the quotes from the “amazing” boring book that he wanted everyone to memorize.  “YOU ARE SO FULL OF DIRTY SMELLY SHIT THAT I WOULD LIKE TO SIT YOU DOWN AND TELL YOU JUST HOW IRRELEVANT YOU AND YOUR SHORT FAMILY ARE!!!”  the maggot was scared.  sweating.  smiling.  squirming and begging.  the maggot tried every phony trick he could think of.  all boring clichés from other boring peasants at the elite tennis club.  Jack wondered what all these maggots did for fun besides jerk each other off but he only wondered for five minutes.  he then got bored and began smashing the leader of the maggots with his bat.  one leg.  two legs.  pelvis and back.  then onto his stomach and right shoulder.  right collar bone and neck.  left arm next and then left shoulder and then one final big swing he took off his head.  Jack Tait then sat down and took a shit on the tennis court.  he looked up to the roof and saw a picture of some boring hero like Oprah or Jesus.  he sat up and walked out of the tennis club.  his life finally complete.  he jumped on his blue tricycle and rode away.  sad music playing in Jack’s imagination.  always playing.  happy fluffy music once playing in the leader of the maggots imagination but no longer.  he was on the floor dead with all the other fake fucks who fuck people over.
  Jack Tait is real.  Jack Tait is human.  Most people are fake.  Most people are inhumane.