[ WP ] Somehow make the line `` Boy , its a joyous day outside ! '' sound sad .

On a bright, warm day that had no clouds or a breeze to speak of, two figures lingered. One sat and the other stood. 
 
 Beyond them was an uneven thicket of dry looking green pine trees, blocking off the half-grown sunflowers and weeds from traveling further than nature wanted them. 
 Behind them was more miles of dry pines and weeds and bushes, and some dirt far beyond, leading to nowhere that was good in particular. 
 
 The only things that had n't melded with the face of nature were a homely four-by-four and a hole in the ground that the two figures had been staring at for some time. As they sat, the wind pulled air through and around them, but they still were silent. 
 Some seconds after the breeze broke, the one sitting solemnly with his legs crossed decided to speak. 
 
 `` So what, in God's name, happened to my boy?'' The grizzled mouth on him spoke, the worn creases in his face shifting. `` Christopher Smith, where in the fuck is my baby boy?'' His body language was still while he posed the question. 
 
 The other man, not quite middle aged, had his eyes wide open, dead set at the hole in the ground. 
 
 `` I hoped at first he'd be with this man over here, but not after... That. God... God, I know he ca n't be with him.'' 
 
 In the hole was a body. The dead body of a man, but the most notable features of that dead body were that his face did n't go beyond the nose, and his legs were buckshot below the knees. His tattered, white clothes fit with him, five feet in the grave. 
 
 `` He took them all, pappa. But I did n't see nothin' like this on the horizon.'' The son looked back down to his feet and sat. He did n't know what to say for a few seconds before he looked back at his father. He continued on, 
 
 `` I did n't know why he'd do this. He had everything until just today!'' 
 As he talked, he stared ahead, not sure how he'd be as whole as yesterday. 
 
 `` Nothing seemed wrong with Mr. Monty. We took his donations to him, we did everything he needed and everything he wanted. Why, he had us like a big clan in that mansion. I dunno, pappa.'' 
 
 The old man looked to the right, and back at the hole. His face was naturally scowl-marked, and he had his reasons why. He could only come up with a short `` Christopher.'' He also looked ahead, but there was an underlying anger in his stare. 
 
 `` He had a show. He healed people. He kept a club for Carl to have his playmates together, and he got'em to be nice, too. Could n't be too bad.'' 
 
 The old man got out of his seated position and made his way to standing up. 
 
 `` Yeah. He pulled the kids in with the fruits and toys, but I was n't even in on the plan. He only had some like him help him out. he drugged the juice. Just like the ones in the commune we heard about on the news.'' 
 
 The grandfather started shaking his head, shortly to either side while Christopher was talking. 
 
 `` I think he wanted to see himself that he could do that to people. But carol called, she told me that people were dying, and I heard a shot or two. I drove from the block over. She made it, but the kids took the juice. I heard another thing while I was inside.'' 
 `` He was shouting as the kids were falling on the ground. 
 `` The nail on the top of the head, he was screaming his bullshit greeting to everyone. 
 
 The younger man had been louder for some time, and he was noticeably getting more agitated. Clouds to the east had gotten closer. He was looking back and forth at his father and the body in the ditch, and just kept getting louder. 
 
 
 `` He pulled that damned line where he acted surprised at that goddamned crowd, looked outside the window, and he just SHOUTED THAT STUPID LINE,'BOY, IT'S A JOYOUS DA-''' the man was punched square in the face. 
 
 `` Christopher. I am ready to kill you.'' 
 
 The clouds rolled in from the east, and they had already been letting drops of rain fall on their way. 
 The father and the son looked at each other for another few seconds, the father glaring down at Christopher. 
 The rain got heavier. 
 
 After waiting, the old man looked down and back to his truck and said to the younger man, 
 `` There's rain, Christopher. Let's get going. 
 I need to see my grand child one last time.'' 
 
 
 Critiques if you can, please! Getting into these writing prompts. 
 
 I was n't liking the way I wrote this one though. I kept feeling negative as I was making this ( Depressing story, man ), and it made it a lot harder for me to want to put in the time to focus on making the story cohesive.
