Indigo Samson (1)

   
   "Indigo Samson (1)"
  
   When he was born--all of his skin burned bright blue, as if lit up with neon squid ink.  Samson Landon knew about himself:  "And no razor shall come to his head."  Yet his conservative father complained to his immaculate mother:  "All of my problems in life are caused by our Samson's long hair."
   He was a return man on the high school pigskin team, dodging with determined dexterity upon the semi-glacial tundra of Michigan's flowing fields.  Like with a jawbone, slaying their ass, if ya hear me, while others did the blocking and tackling, binding themselves in the heavens.
   Samson didn't need phony friends.  As a species, human beings form into tribes, his psychiatrist told him.  Everybody has an agenda, mostly--and the braggarts go here, the asymmetrical there, the pseudo-educated are all radicalized with the hostile left-wing fascination to euthanize, and the elves of the world mix with fairies, yet beauty can demonically destroy or bring forth the wickedness of pernicious plots to venomously vanquish the reflecting flower.  But no paganism here.  What you kill; next, you own it, but it may end up owning you.  It's based on PASSOVER Mr. college professor, brainwashing the children, while you've never dug ditches and been held in contempt by the rich man.
   So, Samson did his thing, and knew the words of JUDGES 15:11--like this:
   "Then three thousand men of Judah went to the top of the rock Etam, and said to Samson, Knowest thou not that the Philistines are rulers over us?  what is this that thou hast done unto us?  And he said unto them, As they did unto me, so have I done unto them."
   Samson Landon's hands turned blue.  He was in his room drinking a Sprite.  Felt no guilt, remembering those forged in stone words, them forever eternal concerning the mighty shining one:  "AS THEY DID UNTO ME, SO HAVE I DONE UNTO THEM."