This service called napster ownes him. It's as though his life serves only to get more songs. After you have some 25000 songs what's next? Yes, there where a lot more written, but that's quite a few. When does one have time to enjoy all that music? He's to the point of having 15 diffrent 'mixes' of the same song in many cases. Thier is just not enough diffrence for the casual listener to discern between them.

All of the money he earnes at his low paying job is spent on more storage space. What little is left over gets used for the cheapest food he can buy. Even that is scarce, he's lost quite a bit of weight in the last few months. Even most of his friends, living only for his free music.

Is this right? How could such a simple thing do this to a young man?

Life goes on for this young man, passing him by. He will never reproduce, never have even a girlfriend. He lives in his own little world. Till one day, not to long from now. When the service gets shut down in court.

Sitting in front of one of his many computers he waits. One day he hopes to be able to afford a faster connection, but for now he's stuck on a slow dialup connection. After the conncetion has finished, he loads napster.

He watches the progress meter just sit there, he's not loging in properly. "What the hell!" he thinks to himself. "Fuck, Metalica or somebody must have gotten pissy again." Quickly he moves to delete his prefrences file. The file that lets napster know who he is. Loading napster again knowing he can just create a new account he waits.

It's not working. He tries it again, but to no avail. "What the fuck!" he cries with tears streaming down his face. He keeps at it for several hours, not knowing whats wrong. The phone rings.

After letting it ring for much to long, he answers "Uhh, hello?"

"Yah, this is Bruce. Your *MANAGER*! What the hell are you doing? Two hours late again!"

"I'm not coming in today, having some 'problems' if you know what I mean."

"You've been late every day this week, your fired. Show up with your uniform before friday"

*Click*

He didn't sleep that night. Between trying to login, crying, and pacing his night was rather boring. He just couldn't belive such a thing could happen. Out of lack of anything else better to do he turns on the TV.

From the screen he hears, "And today in the news The service called 'napster' that allowed people to iligialy share music files over the internet has been shut down." The CEO of Sony can be seen in the background gloating.

This drives our friend who might was well be a crack addict to rage. He runs over to his computer, and starts the search. First stop is eBay to pick up a gun. Second stop is to find out where the CEO of Sony lives.

The gun proves much easyer to find that he had first thought. Just a quick search away, and they even accept PayPal! This means that the transaction will go very quickly. The second phase of his plan doesn't take long either. Apparently he's not the only person in the world who's a bit more than annoyed with the Sony guy.

Two days he spends waiting for his package to arive, and preparing for what may be his last adventure. Most of this involves copying his favorite mp3 files to his laptop. This way he can have a wide selection to listen to on the way there. He even has the forsight to buy a ski mask on his way out of town.

The drive is long, but he makes it without stoping other than to refuel. By this time he's half asleap, but still ready to 'do the right thing'. In his mind anyway.

Carefully he finds the guys place. Putting on his ski mask while pulling into the driveway he parks. He walks up to the front door, and rings the bell. No answer, he waits for a short time.

Inside he can hear crying, very faint. A light push on the door causes it to swing wide open. The crying gets much louder, but he still can't tell it's source. Moving in he notices a lamp laying on the floor broken. The sound is coming from above, he climbs the stairs. Inching forward slowly noticing a light on at the end of the stairs. He moves near the door and peers around.

A little girls can be seen on her knees beside an inert body. It's face hard to make out, but our friend still knows who it is. It's the CEO from Sony. "A bit too late" he thinks to himself, but at least it's done.

He gets the idea to leave a note, just to make sure the rest of the record companys get the picture. Heading downstairs to find something to use he trips. Rolling head first down the hard wood staircase he suddenly comes to a stop. His cover blown.

"You killed my daddy! Your a bad man!" comes from the top of the stairs.

"Shut the fuck up you little bitch!" he yells back.

Trying to stand up, but he can't. A broken leg no doubt. He stagers to the kitchen anyway, might as well write the note.

To whoever reads this,

	I didn't kill him, guess I was just a bit slow ;)
Doesn't matter much anyway, he's now dead, fuck 'em
This is just a note to tell you how I feel, not that
you care anyway.  But maby you will pay attention
this time.

	I have no pitty for this man, if you even call
him that.  A sack of walking shit if you ask me
Don't even bother trying to save him, he's dead.
He's only the first, the first of those who are
in the way.  Stay out of the way.  That's the
only advice I can offer.

	This is your only warning,
							mp3man
							

After the note is written he calls the police. At first they think it's a prank call, but eventualy decide to send out a squad car. He waits for it to arive.

The little girl has come down by this time. She's yelling all sorts of rotten things at our friend, so he shoots her. A single shot right to the forehead, so easy. He's never used a gun before in his life. Just played lots of first person shooter games. He might as well have trained to be a killer. It was just that easy. What comes as a suprize though is the sheer ammount of blood. More than he ever imagined, he becomes lightheaded.

No remorse is felt, only the trouble he's going to be in. Six shots left in the gun. More then enough he thought. First he took a shot at his left ankle. The gun made no sound. No pain. On to the right ankle, still no sound. Moving to his left elbow he fired again. This time he could feel it. Pain, real pain. He'd never felt anhthing this strong before in his life. Pushing the gun into his mouth he wonders about his right elbow as he pulls the trigger. The world explodes before him, then he colapses to the floor. Laying dead not far from his most recent prey.

EOF