A Bullet in my Gun

I'm given a gun with a single bullet in it.
"Shoot anyone you want," they say, "and we won't do anything about it." So that's it. I can kill whoever I want to, and there will be no repercussions. So who do I kill? I think about it. George Bush, Mugabe, the relatives who put their three year old niece in a dryer.

No, none of them. Out of all the rapists, child abusers and evil dictators, I will choose the guy who sits behind me in two of my classes. The biggest jerk that ever walked the planet. Our school actually had to widen the doors so he could get his big head through them. He's rude to everyone, but seems to think that we kiss the ground he walks on. He thinks I'm a freak, but has he tried looking in the mirror lately? The jokes of, "you're a boy," aren't exactly original anymore, cunt-face. "Stop being a freak for five minutes and send me the file." Mmm, wow. You're so great to me, I think I will send you the file!

So yes, I am given a gun with a single bullet in it.
"Shoot anyone you want," they say, "and we won't do anything about it."
I choose him.