The Vandals on High Street

The clerk was screaming. Blubbering and sputtering and choking and I swung again and again and again. Blood spattered my eyes and powerful hate surged out through the red veil. I drew my arm back, the pipe gripped solidly in my fist. In my head blazed his smirk. "We're all out of Butterfinger" I heard him say again. "Did you want an Oreo Cookie one instead?" I felt the vein in my neck pulse. The world darkened, slowing.
 
Through the haze I saw the arm come down. Watched in horror as the heavy piece of lead drove itself into skull, marveling at the wet cry and spray of blood and bone as it glistened in the air. For an instant, each nodule of blood was fleck of cream. The bone fragments reformed themselves into a buttery orange chocolate-covered garnish. I slid forward, mouth open, reveling as the gooey pieces oozed into my mouth and down my throat. Time snapped back. The boy was on the floor, a dark pool spreading steadily around him.