A BULLET WOULD BE BETTER

by SD Elliott Patrick Swayze wakes up face to the ground on a strange mountain with no trees. Patrick Swayze rolls over and startles some bear, who is standing directly over him. "You're not supposed to be awake," is all the bear can get out. "You're not supposed to be awake yet..." Patrick Swayze rises slowly to his feet, knocking his head against the mountain's solitary light source, an old-fashioned sun hanging bare from the sky's low ceiling. Death is the one place that Swayze will never follow, so the bear retreats backwards towards a white, snow-covered cliff. Patrick Swayze reaches towards the sun and grabs it tight for a moment, enjoying the dying star's pleasant burn. "Not supposed... Uh... uh... wake. Not awake!" The bear can hardly get it out now. Patrick Swayze squeezes the sun as tight as he can, until nothing but broken rays and darkness remain. The bear starts whimpering about the sudden absence of light, and its' cries make for an easy target in the dark. Patrick Swayze's right hand, still burning with delight, reaches down and lifts the bear so that they are face to face. Patrick Swayze whispers into the bears eyes, "Now I'm going to put your lights out," then puts his other relatively massive hand over the bear's skull... squeezes until he feels brain... and pulls until he feels a snap. The sun comes back into the sky, and Patrick Swayze smiles.