Jason's Bad Day

By KingCobra582

WARNING: Language. Violence. Mildly implied sex. Utter stupidity. Jason's OOCness. A partridge in a pear tree. Rated PG-13.

DISCLAIMER: Jason is not mine. Neither is Crystal Lake. I claim ownership to the kids in this fic, though.

Ch Ch Ch Ha Ha Ha… Wheeze

I pull the hockey mask off my face, panting. Jesus fuck, how can anyone breathe with this thing on?!

And now my lungs hurt. That's what I get for trying to breath while sucking helium.

Oh, jesus. Just another day of wandering the damn woods, looking for fresh victims. How tedious. Shouldn't I be too old for this by now? My back is killing me and I think my arthritis is flaring up again. Oh, fiddlesticks.

Ugh, I need a shower. All those years of being dead, then resurrected and trapped at the bottom of a dirty lake for so many years really does nothing for hygiene. I'm really smelly. It's a surprise that I can sneak up on people at all.

But then, if it wasn't for Mommy getting killed by that bitch all those years ago, I wouldn't have to be doing all this crap. But, now years later, once I've actually sat down to think about it, she wasn't such a great mom after all. Always switching into that creepy 'little boy' voice of hers. Who did she think she was, Robin Williams?

She also seemed to think I drowned from what I heard later. I didn't. I simply fell out of a tree and landed on my ass on a rock. The damage was so great that by the time I'd finally limped my way home, the disco era had just ended. Why she apparently didn't try to find me is my guess. Maybe too caught up in 'The Price Is Right'.

Why are Pop Tarts frosted?

Wait. What was I thinking? Damn, letting my mind wander in my old age. Legally, I could apply for retirement benefits at this point in my stab-happy life. Being a murderer is hard work, after all. All the stalking and slashing. Takes a lot out of a guy.

Oh, yeah. Now, I remember. Pop Tarts. Yum.

There was giggling coming from nearby.

Teenagers!

Just fucking great. I groan.

Those damn kids. You'd think they have learned by now not to enter these woods.

It's not because of Mommy that I kill them. It's because if I don't, then the wildlife will. All those vicious bears and stuff. So, technically, I'm saving their lives by killing them. Yeah, that makes perfect sense.

Oh, boy, there they go. They're not exactly here to enjoy nature at the moment. Time for me to go to work.

Too bad I don't get a paycheck.

Then I could afford a nice house with a white picket fence.

What was I thinking? Oh. Yeah.

I off the teenagers just as some blonde girl stumbles into the scene. She takes one look at me and backs away, mentioning something about needing to get something from the car and being right back.

I chase her, of course, but my heart's not really in it. I'd rather be down at the lake, skipping rocks right now. But a man, even an undead invincible zombified man, has gotta do his job.

Man, that house would've been nice…

Oh, look, the girl is trying to start her car, but no go. There's a reason for that. My machete does more then just chop up people, after all.

Hey, she's getting out of the car. Wait, what's with the shotgun—?

KA-BLAM!

Okay, that hurt. Now I'm dead. I flop onto my back, where I spasm for a while like that whale from 'Free Willy' without water. Look at her. It's so pitiful. She actually thinks she killed me. What a laugh.

She runs off, probably to call the cops, and I get up, silently thanking Mommy for that bullet proof vest before ambling off in the opposite direction.

Think I'll go find a flowery field and go skipping through it merrily.

Ch Ch Ch Ha Ha Ha… Ow! My lungs!

The End.

Don't ask. I have no idea what I was on when I wrote this crap. It didn't quite turn out like I wanted. Oh, well, enjoy anyways. And please review. Flames are okay too.