Seeing Red

The matador had a stuffed codpiece just like every other matador in this god-forsaken land. The bull rolled his eyes. “Fuck this shit” he thought to himself. Two weeks ago he was on a farm in Kentucky, eating grass and occasionally siring a calf. Life was good. Warm rain, endless fields of bluegrass, several acres of hot prime cow on the hoof at his beck and call. He was King Beef.

Then for some reason, probably because he was a god-damned bull, he gored someone’s precious little snowflake. Future date raper more like it. The little shit had it coming. The kid kept pulling on the bull’s tail. Then when the kid grabbed his balls and swung on them like a rope swing — I mean shit, who could put up with that? So, he gored the cantankerous little shit — didn’t kill him, but he wouldn’t skate or bike for the rest of his life. The little fucktard. Bull figured he would get the gun for sure, so he just got mean. He would charge at tractors in fields. He would run full steam up to anyone in the field, snorting and acting a fool. WTF, right? Might as well go out with some fun.

Oh, but fate is a fickle beast. Also factor in human greed and anything can happen. Especially when you belong to a farm run by an “enterprising” man who can see the dollar signs in almost any situation. Next thing the bull knew he was on an auction block. Bull figured that he would either end up in a rodeo or in some Texas school lunch tacos. Neither happened. He was put on an airplane and flown to Spain. Bullfights that is. The pain in Spain falls mainly on the bull. Stupid traditions and machismo is what meet a bull in Spain.

Bull watched the “Bull Fights” for several weeks from his stockade. He quickly learned that the term “Bull Fights” is full of “Bull Shit.” They aren’t fights as much as a ritual slaughter of the bull. The cowardly Spaniards would win every time and his time had come.

The picadors have stabbed him several times in the neck via horseback. Then the three banderilleros further weaken him by stabbing him more in the neck. He was having a hard time standing, but the roar of the idiot crowd cheering pissed him off and sent a surge of adrenaline through his system. He walks up to the matador who thinks that he is being clever by hiding a large dagger under his cape. Bull stops, snorts and says to the guy, “What. The. Fuck?” The moron matador just shakes his head and stares at bull like he’s never heard English before. Then in a flash it dawns on bull that he is in Spain. People are mean and dumb everywhere, and here they kill bulls for fun. Plus, he’s in SPAIN, the matador doesn’t even understand English! Bull sighs as the blade enters his brain-pan and the flowers of death rain down from the bullring stands.

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I wrote this while sitting on a bar stool in Mexico. There was a bullfight on the teevee and it made me think what it would look like through the bull’s eyes. Bull fights are bullshit in my opinion.