Reducing Carbon Footprints

Between being diagnosed with cancer, given a death sentence and now, laid off, and what happened between him and Samantha was what irreversibly changed Mortimer for the worse and forever. His life, as he knew it, was over now. It no longer mattered what he did or what happened to him. He had already taken the steps to be remembered as one of the worst serial killers in history. His plan was already put in action. It was only a matter of time.

It was a good life for a man who didn't need or want anything more than what he had. He had an old Jeep Wrangler that he maintained himself and his dog, Rinny, a German Shepard, named after Rin Tin Tin that accompanied him everywhere he went, that is, except for today. He wanted to be alone with his thoughts today and left Rinny home alone in the cabin.

His life would have continued, as it had for the past 35 years, only, perhaps from eating one too many prunes or crunchy granola bars, he was diagnosed with stomach cancer. His doctor gave him his death sentence punctuated with the amount of time he had left, six months, at most, and less if he didn't leave his job to live in the city for the chemo treatments. Then, there was the matter of his forced retirement, which in the scope of things, really didn't make a difference, as he was dying anyway, but it was the principle of the thing that the state didn't care what his contribution was. They just wanted him to leave and that hurt him, as much as it made him very angry.

The doctors assured him that it was nothing that he had eaten that had given him cancer. Only, Mortimer thought differently. To him, packaged and processed food meant polluted food and anything that man touched was poisoned. Even though he tried living off the land as much as he could now, he couldn't reverse the years he ate junk food, ice cream, candy, and cookies and the fast food of McDonalds, Burger King, Taco Bell, and TV dinners, before he was enlightened and started eating more wholesome foods of fruits and vegetables.

Yet, even the fruits and vegetables didn't taste as good as he remembered they did when he was a kid. The soil where his fruits and vegetables grew and the water he gave them to grow were polluted, he imagined. Even the rain water was filled with acid. For the sake of money, those in power have ruined the planet, he feared.

He figured he had gotten the cancer from living off the polluted land and/or drinking the polluted water, even where he resided way out in the middle of nowhere deep in the forest. After reading the news about the poor economy, after reading about those executives who were in Washington before Congress with their handout for stimulus bailout money to only pay what they received from Washington in multi-million dollar bonuses and multi-million dollar golden parachutes, he now knew the players.

He now knew who was responsible for polluting the Earth, ruining the economy, and ergo, who was ultimately responsible for his cancer and his forced early retirement. Because of the stimulus package, because all those responsible for putting the world in the sad condition and desperate state of affairs that it is now, he had a long list of names of those who needed to pay with their lives for what they did. If he was going to die, they were coming to Hell with him, too.

Perhaps, from being teased and victimized in his youth because of his name, perhaps from living alone for all these years, perhaps from being rejected by the love of his life, Cynthia, perhaps by a combination of all of the above, Mortimer was determined to set his scales of injustice straight before he died. By taking the term reducing carbon footprints a bit too literal, he decided to seek his final and ultimate revenge on those who polluted the planet.

What better way to celebrate Earth Day than to remove all those footprints of those who created so much unnecessary carbon? Having worked for thirty-five years as a Forest Ranger and with no one to leave his accumulated wealth to, he'd use whatever savings he had amassed in the course of his sixty years to take his final revenge.

He was earning $240 a week as a Forest Ranger when he first started the job back in the early '70's. Now, with raises, promotions, cost of living increases, and a bonus for earning his master's degree in Forestry, he had a weekly salary of $1,880. His retirement fund was seven figures, that is, before the stock market crashed. Now it was barely worth half that amount, six hundred and seventy thousand dollars. Nonetheless, after closing out his retirement fund, he had more than enough money for what he needed to do.

So long as he was still well enough to work, so long as he was free from being treated with chemotherapy, he planned and plotted his final revenge. Since everyone loves cruises, he chartered a big boat, a yacht, for a planned party. For those who didn't have the time to take a cruise, he rented a huge hall at the Park Plaza in New York. For those special few who would only take part in his sweet revenge when given the choice of flying privately, he hired a private plane to take them wherever they wanted to go on their final flight. Whether on land or on sea or in the air, free food and free booze and with the ability to rub elbows with a list of who is who in the world, that should attract all those he needed to attract.

Going down the long list of all those names that were responsible for the collapse of the economy, he prepared his personal invitations. He invited the top executives of all three automobile companies, General Motors, Ford, and Chrysler. He invited those in charge of losing billions of dollars at AIG, Fannie Mae, Freddie Mac, and Citicorp. The executives of Merrill Lynch, Goldman Sacks, Bank of America, and Wells Fargo were all invited to the ball, too, as well as the top management of Exxon/Mobil, Shell, Amoco, and Citgo. After all, greed is not only what destroyed the world economy but also is what is destroying the planet and the people who run these companies are, indeed, the greediest of the greedy and the most foulest of all the polluters.

By giving $300 to a small town attorney, he formed a corporation, Earth Day, Inc. Next, he sent press releases to all the major newspapers and news agencies informing them of his corporation's plans to hold a giant Earth Day celebratory party around the world. His party was to reverse the bad economic news with good news for the future and to show all those top players in a better light than how they have been exposed in the press recently.

What was once impossible to organize was now easy to do by way of the Internet. With the world press abuzz with something good happening in the world, instead of all the bad things that have happened daily, they were all eager to give Earth Day, Inc. some good press. Moreover, all those top players who have had their reputations blackened were eager to align themselves with a company that showed they cared about the Earth. It was a perfect plan for such a deadly day and a dastardly deed.

Just as Mortimer had hoped, his free press releases paved the way for his invitations to be accepted. Everyone who was anyone would be there to celebrate the planet on Earth Day. Unless they were ill or entangled with another commitment, why in the world would anyone refuse his invitation? After being beleaguered by continued economic bad news, this good news would go a long way to help improve their reputations.

He looked down at Samantha still tied spread eagle. She was so beautiful that he just stood over her staring at her nakedness. Finally, he untied his boots and stripped off his pants and underwear. He watched her close her eyes and look away from his nakedness. For such a scrawny man, he had a huge cock, a cock much bigger than that of her boyfriend, and it was already fully erect when he unleashed it from his briefs. He leaned down and kissed her and when she pulled away, he grabbed a handful of her long, lush blonde hair and pulled her face to him and kissed her again, this time more deeply and with more passion.

"Kiss me back or I'll leave you here for the bears."

He kissed her again and this time she accepted his tongue in her mouth and gave him hers. It was a long kiss and he took the opportunity of her French kiss to explore her body with his hands and fingers. He felt her tits and fingered her nipples, as he kissed her. Then, he explored her pussy and fingered her clit. She wasn't even wet and the experience of touching her wasn't enjoyable for either one.

"Blow me," he said. "Suck my cock."

"Please don't do this. Just untie me. Okay? We'll pretend this never happened. You haven't done anything but kiss me and touch me. I'll give you enough money to live out the rest of your life in luxury. Just untie me."

"I don't need your money, Sam. What I do need right now is a blowjob." He gave her a long look. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. "And if you don't swallow my cum, if you spit out a drop, we'll have to repeat the process again later."

He was on his knees now and he moved his torso closer to her mouth. His cock was so close, so long, and so hard that it bounced off her check with his every movement. With tears in her eyes, she turned her face towards him, closed her eyes, and accepted his cock in her mouth. He felt her warm tongue swirling over the head of his cock and it felt so good. She was blowing him. This beautiful woman was actually sucking his cock. It was the best blowjob he had ever received in his life.

"Are you right handed or left handed?"

"What?" She removed his cock from her mouth to answer.

"Are you right handed or left handed?

"Right, I'm right handed."

He pulled out his pocket knife and cut her right wrist free.

"Use your hand on me. I need to cum and you had better not spill a drop."

She started stroking his cock, moving it back and forth, as she sucked him. After a few minutes, when he felt the warm feeling overwhelm him, he put a hand to the back of her head and started slowly, at first, hump her mouth. Now, getting ready to explode his cum in her mouth, he was fucking her face with his cock faster and faster and harder and harder.

"Oh! God! Don't stop! Yeah, baby, suck my cock. Suck my prick! Blow me! Oh! Oh! Oh!"

He exploded all that he had in her mouth. Too much cum for her to swallow, she gagged and spit much of it out while coughing.

"Well, that's unfortunate."

"Sorry, I couldn't help it. I was choking. When did you cum last?"

"I don't remember. I think when the President was in office?"

"Which president? President Bush?"

"Uhm," he said putting his head down in embarrassment, "President Clinton. Yeah, the last time I came off was when I jerked off over Monica Lewinski giving President Clinton a blowjob."

"Oh, my God, eww, you are so creepy."

"Yeah, well, we'll see how creepy I can get when I take you back to my cabin."

Times were tough all over, even in Alaska where men were always able to find high paying jobs on the oil pipelines or on fishing boats. Yet, too many men were out of work because of what was happening in the world today. Too many men had angry opinions of who was responsible for their dire straits and what they would do if they had their chance to do it to those people who put them out of their jobs and out of their homes. It wasn't difficult for Mortimer to find a few good men who were willing to plant bombs for the right amount of money. When a man is out of options, one hundred thousand dollars given to each man will make a man do just about anything, especially when his family is hungry and homeless.

Actually, the men didn't know they were planting bombs. All they knew was that they were delivering packages. They may have suspected they were doing something sinister, especially since it was coming from Mortimer Snerd. Definitely, after the news reports surely, they would know they were directly responsible for the mass murders of so many.

Yet, finding out who all those they murdered would not make a difference to them. If anything, they'd rejoice that they were able to help Mortimer with his master plan. Without question, they'd be happy to learn later that they helped Mortimer with his final fatal revenged of all those responsible for putting them out of work, forcing them out of their foreclosed homes, ruining their lives, and denying them the opportunity to feed their families, while they, the greedy bastards, pocketed millions of dollars in undeserved bonuses.

It was just a short walk through the dense woods to Mortimer's cabin. He knew every shortcut to take. Rather than take the long, winding main road up the mountain, the hidden paths through the forest got him there in only a few minutes. Once back at the cabin, he made Sam comfortable on his bed.

Since you spit out much of what I had given you, Sam, I need for you to repeat the process. She struggled, but he was too strong for her. A wiry man, he was accustomed to hard, physical work. Besides, he had the adrenaline of a crazy man pumping through his veins.

He went down on her. She still tasted like honey. She had pockets of honey all over her body. Everything stuck to her, little bugs, twigs, and leafs from their walk through the forest. He moved away whatever was in the way of his tongue and licked her until she was moist enough for penetration. Then, he mounted her. It had been years since he had been with a woman and he gave her all the pent up sexual frustration he had to give. He was really pounding her and she was getting the best fucking of her life, no doubt.

Meanwhile, Mortimer had already paid his blood money to those men who needed it the most and to those men who possessed the backwoods code and moral character to never let a friend down, especially when that friend just paid him one hundred thousand dollars. Mortimer gave them the two way tickets to travel to their determined locations and back for them to carry out their mission. Once they had delivered their package, the money that Mortimer gave them was more than enough for them and their families to have a fresh start in a place where there were jobs, such as Fargo, North Dakota. Fargo was far enough away from their ruined life in Alaska, yet it was close enough for them to find a good job in a growing economy there, that is once the flood waters of the Red River receded. Still, there was plenty of work to be had in Fargo.

There they were out in the middle of the ocean waiting for the Earth Day festivities to start. The wives of their greedy executives of banks, insurance, and oil companies were all bedazzled with diamonds, accented with furs, and dressed in their best gowns. Their husbands wore their tailor made tuxedoes. This was a big occasion. All of the world press would be there to cover this Earth Day event and to report to the world that these greedy bastards really did have a conscience and were willing to do whatever they could to save the planet, wink, wink.

"Boom!"

The first bomb exploded the ship into oblivion. Not knowing how much plastic explosive to put in the package to get the job done, Mortimer filled the box with extra. If anything it was too much. Certainly, there'd be nothing left of anything or anyone after the bomb blast.

At precisely the same time, the second contingent of guests were 35,000 feet in the air enjoying the smooth jet ride of a private 767 wide body Boeing. They were all there, the bonus recipients from AIG, the stock brokers from Wall Street, and the bankers from Bank of America and Wells Fargo.

"Boom!"

The second bomb exploded. Again, Mortimer, not an explosives expert and making a bomb for the first time from instructions printed out from the Internet at the library's computer, had put more explosive than what was needed. To dislodge a jet from the sky, he didn't need more than a shoe bomb. Instead he had his hired assassin plant a shoebox full of plastic explosive, enough to insure nothing was ever found of anything or anyone.

He had wished he could have gotten the Bushes to accept his invitation, but he knew enough not to even invite them. Matter of fact, he refrained from inviting any politicians. He feared that if he invited a sitting senator or an ex-president, that the security would be tight enough to discover his bombs and expose his plan. He was satisfied to rid the planet of the carbon footprint of bankers, insurance executives, stock brokers, et al, the greedy bastards who profited from the misery of so many of those who cut jobs and foreclosed on homes. He only wished he could have invited Bernard Madoff. Now, that would have been a coup, but instant death was too good for that bastard. He was glad he was spending the rest of his miserable life in prison.

They were all just sitting down to dinner at the hall and just as the hall was jam packed with big wigs from banks, insurance companies, and Wall Street, the third bomb triggered. Yeah, sure, just as he felt bad about the crew aboard the yacht, the flight crew aboard the plane, and all those press reporters covering his planned Earth Day parties, he felt bad about the collateral damage of those innocent waitresses, bartenders, and busboys that were unfortunate to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Yet, he was at war and the lost lives of the innocent were part of the cost of his personal war.

"Boom!"

The third and final bomb exploded taking all of those where they deserved to go, to Hell.

Mortimer was getting ready to cum again. He had already shot his load in Sam's pussy and now he demanded that Sam blow him again. He was on his back on the bed and she was position between his legs sucking his big cock. Wanting to just get it over with, no doubt, and hoping he'd allow her to go after sucking his cock, she was really going at it.

"Boom!"

He shot the biggest load yet in her mouth. He put a hand over her mouth forcing her to swallow all of him.

"Can I go now?"

"Go? Go where? No, sorry, you can't go. I think I like having you around to fuck you at will and to make you my bitch. Yes, I enjoy you sucking my cock whenever I need it to be sucked."

It was quite by accident or maybe it was planned that Sam saw the barrel of Mortimer's handgun peeking out of his open nightstand drawer. She reached for the gun.

"Boom!"

She put him out of his misery and gained her freedom by blowing his brains all over the cabin's wall.

She was free and all those who helped to destroy the planet and ruin the lives of so many were now dead.

Nine months to the day later, Sam had a baby. Everyone figured it was the son of her ex-husband, who she quickly divorced, as soon as she returned home to New York. Only, the boy had bright orange hair. In honor of the personal sacrifice that Mortimer had made to rid the planet of so many carbon footprints; she named her son Mortimer, after his Dad.

Ah, wouldn't it be nice if this story wasn't a work of fiction? Wouldn't it be nice if we all had a super hero who could rid our world of so many greedy bastards for the betterment of the rest of us?

Happy Earth Day.

THE END