Crimes Of Murder

by Darryl Harrison

explained sharply with a laugh.

  “Are you insane? Jing, you’ve really flipped,” she said strongly with regret.

  “Please, Melinda! Let me see Randy,” he snapped.

  She hung up.

  Mr. Blueitt decided to go to the bathroom. When he finished his poop looked like orange sherbet. All of a sudden, he felt ill and collapsed onto the floor.

  When Blueitt woke up, he felt weak. It was as if a major power source was drained. He looked in the mirror—his old self again. His face was blistery red. He wasn’t as ugly anymore. Yet his cat wasn’t pretty either. He looked like a boxer turned dope addict. He was so weak that he couldn’t squash a wet paper cup.

  Mr. Blueitt sat very depress in his motel listening to gunshots and screams of woman being attacked daily while drinking Budweiser. He didn’t remember how to get back to this awful-looking superhero.

  Then one day Blueitt was sitting in his room, using Meth and---felt strange. After that, he stood up. He then turned into a puff of black-smoke. When the smoke cleared, he became The Ugliest Superhero again. He learned that doing Meth and eating ice-cream changed him into the superhero. It was very strange he thought. Why can’t I go into a phone booth just like superman? Well, I guess we all can’t be superman. I am like superman just hundred thousand times uglier.

  The superhero leaped out of the big window of his motel but instead of flying away, he just landed straight down on his head.

  “How come I can’t fly?” he stated harshly. “Every other superhero could fly but me.”

  Mr. Blueitt wandered down the street. He searched for trouble. He attempted to pick-up a real hideous fat black chick. She had taken one look at him and bailed.

  “Come on, baby! Let’s party, girl!” he shouted sharply with a laugh.

  “Hell no! Not with you creep. Dog, I figured I had been ugly, but you take the cake. Besides, child, Halloween night is several months away,” she explained bluntly.

  “Come back. You sweet mama! Let me eat your chocolate cake baby” he pleaded strongly with deep sadness.

  The superhero went after a Chinese dude muscular as linguine that snatched an old black woman’s purse. The superhero caught up to him, striking him in the back of his head with that big ugly fist. The guy travelled forward with great force, just like a rocket and landed on his stomach, sliding forty-five miles an hour down the street. When the man did stop, sliding on the street had burned a huge hole in his chest and stomach, guts oozed out.

  Blueitt delivered the woman her purse. She had been terribly frighten but thrilled. She strolled away swiftly very stun trying to figure who this ugly dude was.

  Blueitt had beaten an Asian man’s beefy face in once he caught him in a Walgreen’s kissing a screaming eight-year-old little girl.

  An iron-muscled black man and a white dude with a girlish face fired a weapon at the superhero whilst they had been getting away from an Ethiopian restaurant that they robbed. They got away. There had been several bullet holes in Blueitt. Brown blood ran out of them. Nevertheless, within minutes the holes had been gone. They just vanished. His body healed itself. Outstanding, he thought.

  Mr. Blueitt physical appearance frightened off two people, selling crack (rock cocaine) on the corner of East 14th Street and some hookers standing around too. When he farted, the gas was so awful most of the trees in the neighborhood keeled over and died along with some cats, dogs and homeless folks near by. He said oops to himself. “Dude, I’m sorry,” he said loudly.

  Blueitt cornered by a dozen-drug dealer’s in a West Oakland neighborhood. They fired AK47’s at him. Liquid fire shot out of his nose. A huge orange-yellow flame spread fifty feet at them. They turned and ran. He burned many of them to death and some that got away on fire rolled on the ground to put themselves out. Red chemical came out of his mouth, when it touched the men they dissolved into nothing. The chemical in his mouth had an effect on folks just like acid. The ones left got into their vehicles to flee. They started their vehicles and pulled out. The flames from his nose hit their vehicle as they pull out into the street. The vehicles caught fire and exploded.

  The dreadful crime fighter had been making a reputation for him and starting a potential gang war. Crime had been low and police had been delighted. The majority of the criminals had been murderers, robbers, rapist, drug dealers, counterfeiters and pedophiles. Many sought by the police for years. The superhero left a pile of badly beaten and bruised bodies near death in front of the police station. Yet clearly this wasn’t the way in which law enforcement officials did business.

  “This creep---they call him The Ugliest Superhero. Homeboy, I’d love to buy this man the largest steak dinner in town or whatever this poop-brain eats. All those bodies, they’re half of the killers, muggers, rapist, drug dealers, bail-jumpers and pedophiles we’ve been looking for,” Sgt. Elter stated strongly with a laugh.

  “Yes, it’s great. Top-notch. I want to kiss him,” Det. Ming said sharply with a laugh.

  “Hey, dog, That don’t sound right,” Sgt. Elter said bitterly with smirk.

  “He’s been a great help. Nevertheless, we can’t let an individual...a crazy person work together with us, not like this. A Damn vigilante, man! Homey, A lot of innocent folks might get injured,” Det. Ming explained sharply.

  “Besides this man might be doing this for himself--for fame,” Sgt. Elter said firmly.

  “This ugly superhero is no better than the criminals we put away, dude,” Det. Ming said bluntly.

  “Dawg...let’s bag this snake-breath,” Sgt. Elter said boldly with a big grin.

  “What do we do once we capture this awful dude?” Det. Ming inquired strongly with a stony expression.

  “Dog, we slime him,” Sgt. Elter stated strongly with a laugh.

  “Or you may breathe on him with your poop-breath that could kill a thousand of the ugly guys, boo,” Det. Ming stated sharply with a laugh.

  “Slime you, butt worm! Let’s get this punk before I bash your head in with something,” Sgt. Elter said firmly.

  “Let’s roll gangsta!” Ming said sharply with a laugh.

  At the same time, Blueitt had been getting his sexy-on at the room. God blessed him with two big cocks. He would get double the pleasure. He makelove to an Asian girl from and a long legged black chick too. And once those girls got fatigued he had taken on dozens more. He had taken on a gentle redhead with a smoking hard body. He played with a disfigured German lady with hair all over her body like a animal. He made love a cleft chin French girl with one ear and part of her left arm missing and a black girl with a hydrocephalic head, four breast. A buxom blond with a great figure at 6’5, a shaggy haired dwarf who was the smallest woman in the world, a lopsided bald headed Greek woman with a mustache and two giraffe legs, but a real freak in the bed. He'd two beautiful Mexican girls. This cool pimp was an indestructible lovemaking machine.

  Following seven days of nonstop lovemaking, he finally finished. After that the girls turned into some strangle little lizard creatures running around the room mumbling some stuff. Mr. Blueitt put his cape back on and ran the tired-looking women out. His room smelled of perfume, and sweat.

  The Fish and Gaming, animal lovers and wildlife folks may not have been thrilled to see what the superhero did next. When he got hungry, he feasted on the geese and ducks at Lake Merritt. He ingested a number of live birds and ducks, feathers and all. He flushed everything down with slimy water. After that, he left.

  The superhero stood in his son’s room, watching the boy sleep for three hours. He was very emotional. Nobody knew he was there.

  Mr. Blueitt got a tip on the location where the white dude stayed. He was in a modest pad in San Leandro. Blueitt busted the door down and ran in. The white man had been making love with a blond girl about seventeen. The dude attempted to get his gun. The superhero snapped up him by the ankles and swung the man into the wall. He left a big hole in the wall. The girl sat in the corner of the room shaking. When the shaken up man attempted to ge
t up from the floor Blueitt put his foot on his back. Applying pressure on his back, a sound of bones crumbled.

  “What is with you, man? Can’t a man have fun with his lady?” the man stated savagely.

  “Where you’re going you’ll never see a girl again,” the superhero stated strongly with a laugh.

  “Slime you, monster! He said bluntly.

  “Where is your boyfriend, bird-poop?” Mr. Blueitt asked sarcastically.

  “Dude, I don’t know anything. Dude, I want to talk to my lawyer,” he said harshly, looking venomously.

  “Man, I’m likely to drop you at the local police station,” the superhero stated strongly.

  The superhero chucked the guy’s very bloody body on the front desk of the Oakland station, stunning the bushy haired woman, working the front desk. Peter Smith had recently been linked to the robberies at Domino’s Pizza, West Bank, Jay’s Liquor store, House of Pancakes, Vohs Sub store, Wal-Mart, Men’s Warehouse, Safeway, Men’s Clothing Broker, Bank of America, McDonald’s, Chase Bank, Ray’s Soul Food and Macy’s

  Later Blueitt had been on the corner of 22nd and 14th street battling with four crack cocaine sellers. His ugly fist went through ones body, yanking out his heart and spine. He spit some purple liquid in the other two’s face and they turned into chocolate statues. Once he heard country music blasting from a vehicle he let go of another dude that jacked him. He grabbed