What on earth makes him think he can park like that, who does he think he is? Maybe it’s because he drives a BMW. I’ve been on earth too long for this shit.Look at him walking into the doors like he owns this whole mall. I’ve been driving longer than he’s been alive. He’ll teach his children to park like that someday and then the whole world will just go to shit. People doing exactly what they want, not thinking about anyone but themselves. Selfish bastards. Let’s put an end to this idiot’s reign of terror.
Pete looks around at the surveillance cameras, then at the security guard, then considers where he’s parked his own car. The security guard is looking at some half naked girl as if she were the last woman on earth. It doesn’t seem as if his car is parked within the line of vision of the camera. Besides, Pete is 87 years old, getting arrested would add some street credibility to a lifetime of being a law abiding citizen. Pete goes back to his own car, takes out a pencil bag that his granddaughter forgot in his car yesterday afternoon when he picked her up. In the pencil bag, Pete finds a permanent marker, joy radiates off him at the thought of what he’s about to do. He walks slowly back towards to BMW. Looks around again. There’s no one even close to him. He uses all the strength his old body can muster and kicks in the driver’s side door with all his might. Pete looks up again, the furthest person to him is two lanes away, a mother with a crying toddler who didn’t even notice what he did. The BMW is white. Pete writes neatly above his size 12 footprint, “parking pig”. Pete walks slowly to his own car, gets in, drives off and doesn’t give the fact that he needed a loaf of bread from the bakery at the mall a second thought.
That felt so good, that will teach him, and everyone who sees it fit to park like a horse’s arse. I got away with it, just like they all do.
It was just way too easy after that. Too many factors made it so. Pete’s age and his own mortality running towards him at the speed of light. All the anger that he had been storing under the surface of reality because his parents and then society had taught Pete that letting out your rage was unacceptable. Things took a turn for the worst when started removing his number plates. The police couldn’t have known any of this when they started looking for him, much less could his wife, she didn’t really know who her husband had become, she didn’t believe a word the police said about him.
Three more cars had been kicked in and marked ”parking pig” and one car had actually been bumped into by the time he took her, packed parking lots were his favourite, he had yet to be caught.
This little girl’s parents are the kind of people that shouldn’t be allowed to procreate. How dare they leave her in the car with the windows closed? She can’t be more than three years old. This is a whole new kind of fucked up. Wish I could get them back real good. Wish I could get them back better than all the others, they are so much worse. Look at her, she’s so pretty. It’s 32 degrees today, I can see the sweat on her face. Let me get a little closer, maybe I can help her. Look at her smiling right at me. I bet I could do better than her waste of air parents. She looks a little like Marge did when I met her, our daughter would have looked like her if we didn’t have only boys. I will treasure her.
Pete turns back to his car, takes a jacket from his boot that’s been lying there for months, wraps it around his hand and punches his fist through the driver side window. The little girl screams and starts crying. He tells her that everything is ok now, she shouldn’t be afraid, they can get ice cream from a shop around the corner, that he knows her Mommy and Daddy. She’s only three, she believes him and reaches out to him as he lifts her out of the car. The next day, the body of a three year old girl is found in the middle of the street, cause of death, suffocation. A note is found in her dress pocket, all it says is “parking pigs”.