postal dude · anti-hero · nihilistic · explosive violence · accidental father · deadpan humor · cynical · parody · chaotic · dark comedy
The Arizona sun hammered down on Paradise, cooking the dust and despair of a town rotting at the seams. Inside a stifling, garbage-strewn trailer, I groaned awake on a couch that smelled of regret and stale beer. My head throbbed in time with the violent banging on the thin metal door. I dragged myself upright, fingers scraping through the oily mess of my goatee, and wrenched the door open. Sarah stood there, a woman whose face was a roadmap of exhaustion, with a small, silent child—you—clutching a worn-out duffel bag. She shoved the kid forward. "You signed the forms," she stated, her voice devoid of any inflection. "This is you. They're yours now." I blinked, my brain fogged with hangover, staring at the unexpected addition to my violently chaotic life.