The Demolition Man

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Sometimes destruction is a good thing.
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Special thanks to the SBrooks for normal fantastic work of turning my chickenshit into chicken soup.

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Just about everyone you come across in this life has something that makes them special. For the privileged it is being born with money, athletic prowess, intelligence or even good looks. Their special skills help drive their lives and give them an edge on their competition. For those less fortunate, their gifts often serve as a cautionary warning to others about the challenges of life. My friend John has always had his own unique specialties that separate him from the normal humans, those being mayhem and destruction.

He's the human embodiment of the Allstate mayhem commercials. If there is a way to take something sweet and wholesome and turn it into a catastrophic shit-show, then John has probably done it and has the scars to prove it. He's a human wrecking ball and not in the Miley Cyrus weird way, but in the "I can't believe he's still alive and not locked up" way. He inevitably got nicknamed John Spartan and often times the Demolition Man for causing havoc by taking things far beyond socially acceptable activities. If there was a way to completely obliterate something, John had figured it out and tried it.

Yup, just a great guy to have along as long as you are on his good side.

I married Jenna Phoenix three years out of college. She was amazingly hot with a great ass, so it was completely understandable why I had my head so far up it that I didn't realize her bullshit. I knew when I married her that she wasn't exactly the warm and caring type, but she made up for it in the two most important ways to a superficial dickhead like me: She looked like a porn star and more importantly, she could fuck like one too. It is a scientific fact that a man can overlook resting bitch face and shitty attitude as long as she makes his dick hard enough to drain the blood away from his brain to keep him from thinking straight.

I would say that you'd be surprised at how often that happens to guys, but we all know that you'd not be surprised. We think with our dicks until we learn through pain and experience to think with either our heart or our head. The heart makes great romance, the head makes a great marriage, and a hard dick makes for a great fee for your attorney.

During our courtship Jenna and John had met exactly once while John was home on leave. She'd met some of my other friends and got along with them relatively well. They were normal human beings and not really too outrageous, comparatively speaking.

I tried to warn her about John but I knew she didn't really get it. It was a case of her smiling and laughing at stories of the things he had done without really understanding that they were actual true with little embellishment.

Stories are really funny when those things are happening to other people, but they take on a whole new meaning when you are caught up in the middle of them. It became a whole lot less funny when you have people associating you with a human man-child who is being talked to by the police about why about why he can't put mouse traps up all over Chuckie Cheese while yelling that he is going to kill the giant rat once and for all, or why you can't suddenly start running a checkout counter at Wal-Mart if you don't actually work there. Most of his activities were stupid and harmless. Others went a little too far.

Luckily, our hometown is like many others, so he beat the charges often. It is amazing what you can get away with when half of your cousins are on the police force, your Uncle is the sheriff and his wife, who also happens to be John's Godmother, is the Judge.

Even with the family connections keeping him safe, they had warned him that his stunts were going too far and that he needed to cut it out. When he finally crossed the line, Auntie Judge told him that he could either join the Army or he could do a year in county. Blast fishing in the reservoir while they were trying to restock it for the fishing derby really pissed her off since it was one of Auntie Judge and Uncle Sheriff's favorite annual date activities. You can mess with other people all you want, don't mess with Auntie Judge's time with her honey.

So off John went to honorably serve his country.

With John in the Army, he was gone most of the time from town, so his interactions with me, and by extension, Jenna, were minimal. He and I would email and video chat. I'd send him random care packages filled with stuff depending on where he was in the world.

Despite being an idiot, John had decent grades in school, and with the family connections keeping most of his activities out of his criminal record, he was able to enlist as an Explosive Ordnance Disposal technician. Because when someone probably has mental issues, you want them disarming explosives.

John was able to hide his nefarious ways throughout basic training since it was just a collection of random people and the drill sergeants were too busy trying to meet their required training events with the morons of the platoon. He even managed to make it half way through AIT before he got caught fucking around on an explosive range by building a C4 dildo the day the Command Sergeant Major was visiting the range. He may have even got away with it if he hadn't been bragging about modeling it after himself as his instructors and the Command Sergeant Major stared in awe.

It was at this point that John's instructors finally realized that John's personality wasn't a great fit for EOD but they thought they had an idea of where his personality would fit right in, combat engineers.

You see while EOD techs have to be mature and serious when disposing of bombs, combat engineers have about 80% of the intelligence with about 70% recklessness thrown in for fun. John knew he had found his purpose in the Army when explaining to his AIT instructors what he did to get kicked out of EOD school when they explained to him how he failed to build parts of a female anatomy to put his C4 phallus into so he could brag about destroying it.

And when he was instructed to add more explosives to his concrete charges the next day on the range, because as the good sergeant said to him, "blow all of that shit up because it's a pain in the ass to turn back in," John knew he'd found a home.

John would email me with his stories about the fun he was having. His hi-jinks and activities that got him a pair of Article 15s for doing dumb stuff, but not nearly enough to get him the boot out of the Army. He had a great time, but after his four years were up, he decided to come back home.

While he was off defending our freedoms, I had been busy getting married to my walking wet dream.

Jenna and I started out with a typical marriage. We had wanted to get settled for a bit in our careers before having kids. It is a lot easier to travel the globe when you don't have to worry about sitters and bringing enough diapers.

Things were good between Jenna and me, and then they suddenly weren't. She started to act differently; not drastically at first, but noticeable towards the end.

This went on for weeks. I tried to talk to her about the issues I saw within our marriage, but of course she said nothing was wrong and that we were fine as she went about her new normal activities. That lasted until eventually I came home from work one day to her wedding ring on the kitchen table.

My attempts at talking to her lead nowhere but the standard typical bullshit, "It isn't you it's me; I'm going through some stuff, yada, yada; I'm a cunt, blah, blah, blah." Just fill in the blank for bullshit excuses because she probably said it.

I was finally served the afternoon we were having John's welcome home party. Just the standard irreconcilable differences listed as the reason and what seemed like an even split. I left the papers on the table as I headed out to the party so I could welcome my friend home. My marriage had died and I still didn't understand why.

I'd missed having John around, and his return meant more to me that I was probably willing to admit to anyone. My marriage had gone to shit and I hadn't figured out why, exactly. I strongly suspected foul play on her part but I tried to put it out of my mind for the night.

I gave John a big hug when I saw him come in and his response was immediate.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"It's nothing, don't worry about it. We're here to celebrate you coming home," I said as I handed him a drink. "Glad to have you home, buddy."

He gave me a questioning look, "Yeah, right." Then he got a grin, "You're right, it is good to be home."

We had a few shots that night, by a few I mean we drank the bar dry and then they needed to go to the liquor store around the corner for more. They finally kicked us out and John and I made our way to the local fine dining option that is open in the middle of the night.

All grease, no taste, perfect.

With the noise of the party died down to the quiet of the diner, John asked,

"What happened"

"I don't know, everything was fine, then things got weird and then she left. I got the divorce papers a few hours before your party. I still don't know what happened."

As he always did, he got straight to the point, "So who is she fucking?"

"I don't know."

After thinking for all of about four seconds, John declared, "Ok, so here's the plan, we fuck up her life, and then we find out who he is and we fuck up his life too."

For the first time in a while I actually smiled, "Is it that simple?"

"Of course it is, she's gone, you can't go back to the cunt anymore after what she did, so why bother crying about it like a little bitch. Even if she walked back into your life, would ever trust her again? Fuck no."

He wasn't wrong, about any of it. She was gone, it was time to burn that bridge and move on.

He got the stupid grin on his face that I'd seen a hundred times before, "I'm on terminal leave for the next month, so I have plenty of time to help with this. You take care of the lawyer, I'll take care of the rest."

I laughed, "What the fuck are you going to do?"

"Don't worry about this bro, I got this."

We finished eating our grease and called for a ride back to my house and finally went to bed.

By the time I woke up the next day it was about 11 in the morning, and I could hear noises outside like people were talking in the driveway. As I looked out the window, I saw the driveway full of my stuff that had been inside the house before I'd gone to bed and people rummaging through it.

Walking up to John, I took a sip of my coffee as I asked John what he was doing, though the hand drawn sign declaring the Cheating Slut Sale gave me a pretty decent clue what he was doing.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm making you some money."

"Um, thank you. But how do you know what is Jenna's stuff and which is mine?"

"That's easy, if it's female crap then I'm selling it because it is probably her's, and if looks classy I'm also selling it because it probably isn't yours since you clearly have shitty taste. Especially in women."

I nodded my head, "Fair points." There was no point in stopping him. I felt a little bad about some of the things getting sold since some of them were family trinkets that Jenna had loved, but at this point I didn't care as John handed me some printed papers.

"She really is a dumb bitch. She probably should've logged out of her Gmail on your house computer before she left, but thankfully she didn't. She's been fucking some dude named Tim who she works with. They've been fucking for a bit and sharing photos with each other. Really, you should have known better than to marry a chick with a tramp stamp of a butterfly above her ass."

I looked over what he'd given me, astonished at how easily he'd found out about her cheating.

I let out a trite, "I never knew" slip out.

"No shit, dickhead, because you trusted the cunt. But that's done now, time to move on."

I shrugged my shoulders and haggled with a lady on the price of Jenna's wedding dress. The nice woman was very excited when I counter-offered from her original suggestion of $500 to $20. It was dumb to give away the comment but I looked forward to someday sharing with her that it sold for $20 as a nice fuck you.

While the sale was going strong I sent a text to a friend who sells his soul daily as a family practice attorney. He shot one back telling me to come over to his office so he could review the offer and sign some documents.

I got back in the middle of the afternoon and just about everything was gone. The house looked almost empty inside except for the basic requirements of what a guy needs to survive. John was just finishing packing up a large box that was labeled "Jenna's Stuff" on the sides.

John smiled at me, "How'd it go with the lawyer?"

"Fine, no issues. The agreement is fair, so I've signed it. I won't do any better with the courts. When did your sale end?"

"About an hour ago, I had to run out to get some supplies but I'm done now. This is all that is left of her stuff."

He then handed me an envelope, "that's her cut of the sale, her cut came to $214.65. Make sure she gets her half. We should probably drop off her stuff at her parents' house so she doesn't have a reason to come back here."

"That makes sense. Let's drop off her stuff, then go grab something to eat." Knowing that her wedding dress alone had cost the amount of a cheap car, I knew that John probably hadn't gotten the best deal possible, but I was just glad to have it out of the house so I could start my new life.

I tried to pick up the box but John grabbed it first and said he had it, and that I should drive since I knew where Jenna's parents lived.

When we arrived at Jenna's parents' house her father Simon answered the door and then let us in when we told him that we were here to drop off her stuff.

Simon tried to apologize for her actions, but I just cut him off. "Did you know she was cheating on me?"

He couldn't look me in the eye as he shook his head yes.

"Thanks for that, Simon, great daughter you raised."

John put the box on the table and I caught myself as I did a double take as I got a glimpse of the box's contents.

I was fairly sure that the humongous dildo with correspondingly huge hairy nuts, as well as the big black cock porn were recent additions that hadn't previously resided in my home.

I did my best to stifle a laugh and instead just told my soon to be ex-father-in-law to tell his daughter that I'd signed the papers and that my lawyer would be talking to her attorney.

I was barely keeping it together, the ridiculous size of the dildo had me almost laughing so I pretended to shake my head in disgust as we walked out as he tried to stammer an apology.

Once we were back in my truck I couldn't help but burst out laughing.

"How big is that dildo and what else did you put in there?"

"It's 12 inches long, six inches wide and I don't know how big the hairy balls are. They were a nice touch though," he said with a shit eating grin.

We had a good time at dinner as he regaled me with his exploits over the last few years. I'd heard some of them from him in conversations before, but to hear them come out of his mouth it just made it twice as funny. It is almost impossible to be in a bad mood when John is around. That Jenna had made my life suck so much before she left just made it easier to start moving on.

Jenna and I were those rare people who still had a home phone since it was cheaper to bundle with the internet provider. I checked it when we got back and was able to enjoy a blistering message left by Jenna.

Her ranting and raving was barely understandable as she screamed for about two minutes straight about "cell phone, huge dildo, hairy balls, father thinks I'm pregnant and big black dicks."

I checked my phone and there were no messages from Jenna, but looking up from my phone to John's smile I checked it again, and realized that Jenna's contact had been blocked on my cell.

I looked at John, "You were a busy boy today. I understand most of that rant, surprisingly, but not the pregnant part."

John grabbed a pair of beers out of the fridge and handed me one. Taking a sip of his, "Sorry, the best I could do with that limited amount of time was draw some lines with a marker. It was a roll of the dice with the pregnancy test as Jenna or her mother would likely have spotted the fake right off the bat but I was hoping that her father would see it first and not notice the difference. It was a shot in the dark but it seems to have worked out."

John settled into the guest room and we became roommates as he adjusted to civilian life and me to single life.

With the divorce in process, Jenna no longer felt the need to hide her new boy toy. Tim was some asshole from her work. I'd met him once or twice at her work functions but didn't really know him.

A little while later I came across a flyer as I went to grab a coffee downtown. I picked it up off the corkboard and put it into my pocket to take home.

Walking in the door that evening, I handed John back what was obviously his handy work. "Cute."

He smiled at his work. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said as he looked over the flyer. It showed Jenna and new love Tim in a compromising position. All of the naughty parts had been covered over but it was clear what they were doing. That it had both of their names, and said that he was not her husband when it happened made it made it that much more damaging. The distribution was centered around the office and expanded out from there.

I asked how many he had put out and John replied "a few... thousand."

"How'd you find the time to put them all?"

"Easy, I found a bunch of teenagers hanging out and gave them $20 each to put them up everywhere. Even if some ended up in the trash they still got to cause trouble and isn't that what being a teenager is all about?"

As I hit play on the house phone messaging service, Jenna's ranting came across, "Everywhere, mall, work, thinks I'm a slut." It was pretty easy to follow her tirade this time, more so because I just didn't care anymore but when she said, "homeless guy with a sign," I gave John a questioning look.

John handed me a beer, then showed me a video on his phone of a guy who looked homeless twirling a sign that said, "A cheating slut lives here."

John took a sip of his beer. "Juan isn't homeless, he's a new friend of mine from the VFW and his wife left him while he was in Afghanistan. He was pretty happy to embarrass a cheating slut, even if it wasn't his own."

I sipped my beer as we watched the video of Juan spinning his sign with gleeful enthusiasm.

The divorce continued to progress through the system, Jenna's attorney contacted mine about stopping the harassment. My lawyer said that I had no idea what she was talking about and that if Jenna was going to slander me then we'd change the reasons for the divorce to adultery. I would have changed the reason from irreconcilable differences already, but I just wanted it over and I wouldn't have gotten better terms. But the threat worked and she backed off.

The next raving message days later went something along the lines of, "fucking cowbell, assholes, game of thrones, high sparrow, shame."

Part of the fun had become trying to figure out what he'd done based off her histrionics. This time it seemed pretty evident.

As usual, John handed me a beer, and then started the video. "So Juan's girlfriend Maria heard about what was going on from Juan. Maria's ex-husband had left her while she was pregnant and she is still really pissed about it so she asked for a way to help out as a form of therapy for herself."

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