An old women called me an 'arsehole'

I got shoved by some decrepit old fucker in the local shop earlier who then instantaneously ignited a cannon ball of abuse at me.   I stood there cold staring at her decaying matter in surprised confusion.

Local shops may be diverse demographic dreamlands during weekends that would make any mainstream-multicultural politician squeal with delight, but during working hours they are dominated largely by old people.  Naturally, I don't like old people very much as there is nothing worse than having to listen to some piss-drenched OAP ramble about cats and ‘Ted next door’.

Old people are a serious burden on our society’s youth with their unaffordable pension schemes and colossal usage of NHS resources.  Every generation should pay for itself. These people have had good innings they should be grateful for that and willingly wallop their wickets all-out for lifes last dissmisal.   Prolonging the inevitable is futile as their impending doom and slobbering senility deepens.

Being the Misanthropist which I am, I don't often leave my house from the fear of accidently meeting people but this morning I had little choice: I needed beer.  I was in the shop and spotted enemies amongst the aisles everywhere, you see them shuffling the vicinity buying old people products like prune juice whilst holding cat-food coupons.

I was in the shop for around two-and-a-half-minutes, which is way too long for me.  I knew I was just asking for trouble.

As I walked through a dingy aisle I felt a skeletal hand grip my shoulder with surprising strength.  I automatically turned around and pulled my default despicable scowl to let my repulsion be known.  My eyes were then met with a little old lady of four feet high who had the thousand fires of hell burning in her ageing ape eyes.

"Get out of the fucking way, arsehole", she screamed, the old woman's body jerked with rage in unity with her verbal assault.  I stood there disobediently and jaw-agaped looking like a man who had just been insulted by an old woman not far from her expiry date.  You don't expect it from someone who looks like they could potentially wither away and shrivel up infront of your very eyes.  If she appeared a day under 96 I would have punched her, naturally.

I do not know who exactly this person was, but for the sake of anonymity and protection of the old and vulnerable we'll call her 'Beelzebub'.

"Are you ever going to ever fucking move", Beelzebub's demented chorus continued.  I stared at the disgusting wretch in the midst of the brimstone, and the disgusting wretch stared back at me.

I couldn't be completely sure, had it just called me an arsehole?

"Did you just call me an arsehole?” I enquired.

Beelzebub quickly gave confirmation.

"OK.  Just checking!" I replied as the grappling hell-fire consumed me.