The Weakest Death
in response to “All of the people in these pictures are dead now” by Frank Hinton
Let’s see what animals come to pick me apart and carry me away. If it’s only squirrels, I’m going to be disappointed. Nobody as heroic or as incredibly good-looking as me should be picked apart by what is basically a low-level bit of vermin with an atypically fluffy and adorable tail. Unacceptable. If my exceptionally well-muscled and perfectly proportioned physique is going to be torn apart by forest animals, please let them be fierce ones; mother bears protecting young, starving bobcats, rabid wolves, ferocious birds of prey with talons sharp as razors or testy raccoons. Sidebar: I know you are asking yourself, “Why does he include raccoons when they are also vermin (albeit larger than a squirrel)?” and I will tell you I have been alone in an alleyway with a hulk of raccoons (‘hulk’ being the proper term for a group of 3 or more raccoons) whose sizes dwarfed the tallest short man, and whose demeanor, as they flanked me — yes, flanked me!—was that of the meanest woman I refused to make love to, and let me tell you, the fear it brought would’ve stopped the heart of a weaker man, but of course I am so very strong that my heart simply laughed at the fear and it retreated outward, scaring the hulk, scattering them as if I were the wind itself! Is that aggressive breeze I feel and hysterical whistling I hear a hint of jealousy? Oh, petty wind! I may be incredible in every way, but as much as she may desire to, Mother Nature would never replace you with the power and capacity my ferocious lungs could bring! Carry on, dear wind! You have nothing to fear. Carry on!
But I am digressing, albeit with a very interesting and informational sidebar. I will now get back to the situation at hand which is one I, surprisingly, brought upon myself. You see, I find myself, for the very first time, woefully incapacitated and at the bottom of a deep and seemingly inescapable ravine. Under normal circumstances it would be easily escapable as I have escaped countless times from equally or more dire situations let me assure you, but given the shattered state of my each of my most useful and mighty appendages, it seems highly challenging at this moment. Even if I could sustain myself on nearby flora and fauna to survive long enough to allow the growth of an effective amount of connective tissue to pull the fragments of skeleton back together like a sort of fiercely strong molasses poured over cookie crumbs, I may still, unbelievably (given my usual resilience), be incapacitated due to the similarly broken state of the items housed within my torso. Without even having to tap into the reserves of the impressive amount of medical knowledge I have accumulated over the years, devoid of any sort of formal training (I might add), through my various stints and adventures with multiple battalions, brigades, rebel units, nurses and female doctors, I can surmise by the mortal devastation presented to me by the haphazard nature the barrel of my chest is currently displaying and the way my pelvis is sitting, completely askew from its regular position, so much so that my naked penis is lounging so off-center that it is no longer neighbored between the massive tree-trunks of my thighs and bullet kneecaps, and instead, is lying next to me, in the brush and dirt much like a pale and girthy serpent that is lazed and spent with its gorging, that my situation is of the most critical.
I am afraid there is no coming back from this degree of broken. Luckily, my incredible tolerance for pain has been likened to the effect an epidural has on a birthing woman, so I am not rapt with unbearable agony at the moment. But, to be honest, I will admit I am feeling the most discomfort I have ever felt in my life, even more so than the time I was partially boiled alive by a tribe of cannibalistic African pygmies; small, yes, but many and tenaciously overpowering when one has been drugged by thousands of their poisonous darts. As a side note, I am constantly astonished as to why the scientific community hasn’t done more thorough studies of my unbelievably superior genetic structure; especially given the robot armies our government keeps looking to develop. I would think they could just harvest some of my exceptional DNA and clone an army that would be thirty-three times more effective than an unmanageable robot army that would likely be prone to mechanical malfunctions not to mention the inferior mental capacity for logic and reasoning a clone made from my DNA would most likely exhibit. But that is neither here nor there. It’s probably just the postulating of what might be a delirious mind. I have never lost my wits, but given the fact I am quite possibly dying, who knows what sort of delirium I might begin to succumb to! Uncharted territory, even for me! Instead of pain it is excitement I am beginning to feel as I have charted most every bit of territory and any sort of untapped landscape brings a flutter to my adrenaline-seeking heart! Suffice it to say, someone of my stature and intense lifestyle finds the regularity life brings to be quite boring, which is why I seek out the extreme in everything I do. If now must be my time to go, my only regret is that it is on a tame forest floor and not the savage mire within the bowels of a jungle. If I would’ve foreseen this situation on the day I strangled the elephant crazed with fever and saved the Village of Children or rather on the day I wrestled and killed the lion; I would’ve let him win instead. To go by the mighty clench of his vicious maw, torn to shreds by his ravenous claws, would’ve been more welcome, more honorable than the gentle nibbling I’m sure to experience at the paws of what might as well be domesticated wildlife that is contained within this forest. Woe is me!
The light is lessening. It won’t be very long before the sun is completely gone and the cold takes over. Frost is expected tonight. I knew this when I set out which is why I came completely prepared, as always. There is no other way for me. It is a shame my fall from the cliff rendered me entirely cut off from my supplies and that my spine is seemingly severed in what I believe to be multiple places given the fact it appears every part of me is completely useless except for my mind, which, while of superior intelligence, cannot drag me, inch by inch, towards shelter and safety. So here I lie, waiting for whatever takes me first. And to think that after endless danger and risk, battles and threats, that my undoing would be a weak joining of cliff rock giving way under my enormous frame while I was busy releasing a fire hose stream of urine into a ravine that could safely hold its torrential flow and now, sadly, has become what will probably be my final resting spot. It is obviously God’s great gift of irony. A way for Him to put what He made so mighty in his proverbial place. So be it! I look forward to shaking His hand and congratulating Him on His cleverness and sense of humor, as well as what a spectacular job He did when constructing the blueprints for what I was to become. I am clear evidence that God is truly great!
Let’s see what animals come to pick me apart and carry me away. I only ask for the bravest or any sort of beast that welcomes fear and danger as much as I have. May it come upon me while I am still breathing; I would like to meet its gaze, feel its intent and judge its worthiness before it moves forward, lowers its head and begins to tear into me. I will relish being beaten in being eaten; for once a failure — a new journey to finally be had! One in which I am vulnerable and helpless. A ridiculous child once again! Bring the beast! May it come, hungry for flesh, and let me make my final way watching as its muzzle raises red with my blood, jaw scissoring.