[ WP ] The hero beats the villain by stooping even lower .

I watched Vincent carefully through the chain link fence. The scent of his cigarette washed the area in a calming nicotine filled vitriol. Vincent was the head of an anti smoking campaign called `` Begin Again''. It was mildly successful in our small town, but watching him take greedy drags only further inhibited my desire for revenge. All I did was snap a photo. A photo that would change ole Vincey boys life. I walked home with a stretched grin and a skip in my step, and soon enough the photo was in the hands of our local newspaper. You see, in a small town like this word spreads fast when you fuck up, and it didnt take long for the paper to churn out a headline that would make the New York Times vomit. Soon after, his wife left him, taking their disabled daughter with her. They had met at one of his rallys against big tobacco, and she fell in love with his passion for standing up to the corporate giants. His house was egged, graffiti'd, toilet papered, the works, but the bitter end was oh so sweet. In a town of 1,200 this was big news, and Vincent's reputation was ruined as soon as ink touched paper on that cruel, wonderful, printing press. His wife came to collect her things, and oops, Vincent lost it. Nutso. Crazy. Insane. Perfect. He stabbed her 52 times. He stabbed her 39 times after she was already dead. Now reading the newest headline brought joy to my heart. `` Big Tobacco Murderer Hangs Himself Behind Bars''. Oh how delightful. One stone, two birds. I smiled down on his grave, for some reason still buried next to his wife. I unzipped my pants and had a fantastic piss, right on the soil that packed around his box. You should n't have married my prom date, Vince. We were madly in love, and you stole her. I guess her restraining order is a bit useless now with my piss covering her headstone. Au revoir, smoky. I have mayoral duties to perform.
