DIE HARD WITH A VENGEANCE (1995) is the third film of the ‘Die Hard’ series, starring Bruce Willis as John Mc Clane.
12/08/09 | Film

Die Hard with a Vengeance

by Gene Morgan

We walk into to the gas station store. I head to the back. I walk by three white men with bloody shoes. They look at me. I look for light beer with Judy.

“Nice beard, faggot,” one of the white men with bloody shoes says to me.

Judy walks through them and grabs a six-pack of tallboys out of the refrigerator. I stare at the guy that called me a faggot. I walk back to the cashier. I pick out a lighter at the cashier counter. I chose one with an American flag and a bronco on it. I put it on the counter. Judy walks up behind me.

“Faggots don’t have shit for taste in beer,” the guy that called me a faggot says to the other two white men with bloody shoes.

Judy pays for the beer and my lighter. Sandy, who has been looking at porno magazines, goes out to the Honda Civic and starts it. I look at the guy that called me a faggot. He is wearing a pink collared shirt and white blood-stained tennis shoes. I scratch my beard.

“You got a problem?” he says.

I turn around.

“You forget to pick up more pantyhose?” The guy that called me a faggot laughs. The other two white men with bloody shoes don’t laugh as hard.

“I’m going to go put the beer in the car,” Judy says.

Judy walks out to the Honda, and puts the beer and lighter in the back seat. I look back at her through the glass doors. I look around, and look at the cashier. He nods.

I walk out to the car. I get in the back seat. We drive away, and Sandy makes a loop around the block. It’s nice weather outside, so I roll my window down.

“When people are scared because of my actions, I feel pity for them, but it’s not the kind of pity where I want to help things get better,” Sandy says. “It’s the kind of pity where I understand how helpless they are, and I feel like they deserve everything that happens to them.”

Judy chugs a beer. I take a deep breath. Sandy stares straight ahead. I chug a beer.

When we come back around, the guy that called me a faggot and the other two white men with bloody shoes are walking out of the store. Sandy aims for them. Judy and I shotgun a beer. Sandy hits the gas.

Sandy hits one of the white men with bloody shoes with the Honda Civic. The man with bloody shoes hits the window of a nearby Toyota Tacoma, head first, and the glass of the window slices through his neck. His body falls on the ground, and his head falls into the cabin of the truck. I watch his body shake on the ground.

Judy and I get out of the car. Judy puts on her brass knuckles. I stare at a dumpster and walk over to the decapitated white man with bloody shoes and pick his legs up. Blood pours out of his neck and on to the ground. I stare at the blood for a second. I walk over to the dumpster, dragging the body. I leave a blood trail to the dumpster. I pick the body up by the armpits. Blood from the neck of the white man with bloody shoes gets on my pants. I heave the body in the dumpster. The other two white men with bloody shoes stare at me. They stand still for a few seconds and take-off running. Judy takes off her pumps.

Judy and I are running down the street barefoot. We are smiling. It is a nice night. The air is humid, but there aren’t any clouds. I can almost see the stars. The moon is out. Sandy is following us in her sedan with a body-sized dent on the hood and blood on the windshield. The street is a small but busy street, and as we head east the street gets busier and filled with more bars and small liquor stores.

“This is a nice part of town,” I say.

“Yeah, my uncle used to live over here. It’s a nice area,” Judy says.

We catch up to the guy that called me a faggot, and Judy jumps on him. She hits his teeth out with her brass knuckles. She breaks his nose with her brass knuckles. She breaks his ribs with her brass knuckles. A crowd gathers around Judy. People stand in the street and watch, drinking beers and gossiping. I run past the crowd and continue to chase the other white man with bloody shoes down the street.

I catch up to him next to a Vietnamese restaurant. He is crying. I pull my knife out from my pantyhose and stab him in the neck, and watch as he falls to the ground and dies. At that moment, I feel like there is something on television that I should have recorded. I go back to see what Judy is doing.

Judy is screaming erratically and dancing around the dead guy that called me a faggot on the ground. Judy grabs her balls and spits on the dead guy that called me a faggot. Sandy parks the Honda at a liquor store. She gets out and brings what’s left of the beer.

People are starting to walk away and back towards the bars. The three of us stand in the middle of the street. I open a beer.

I walk up to Judy and hug her. Sandy hands Judy a beer and pats her on the back. A truck drives around us on the outside and runs over the corpse of the dead guy that called me a faggot. The weather is nice. There are no clouds, and it’s a little humid. I think the forecast calls for light showers after midnight.

We walk back to the car. I get a towel out of Sandy’s trunk and wipe her windshield clean. Judy turns the radio to NPR, and we drive back to Sandy’s house. We listen to a debate on religion in America, and I drink another beer.