His name is James Bullet, but most people reversed it to Bullet James. A rising action movie star, his biggest draw was the elaborate stunts his movies required. . . And he did them all himself. He starred in such instant classics as ‘Three Bullets to Midnight’ and ‘Shotgun Blood’. Lately he had taken on a younger audience with his humor flick ‘My School Teacher, The Assassin.’ Anyone from Hollywood to Egypt knew his name, and have seen at least one of his movies. He was, quite figuratively, larger than life. I suppose that is why he was the last person I would expect to move next door to me.

As for myself, I run a little accounting job that deals mostly in local tax preparations. I certainly do not make enough money to live anywhere near California.. in fact I live in Marlboro Kansas in a simple ranch style house in the suburbs.

The day I saw the moving truck parked in the driveway, I attempted to do the neighborly thing and introduce myself. I recognized the man immediately, but convinced myself that he had to be a doppelgänger. Then he nearly crushed my hand with a powerful handshake and said “My name’s James. James Bullet.”

“Bullet James!? What the hell are you doing in Kansas?” I just had to ask him.

“Couldn’t stand those yuppies on the west coast, so I traded it in cowboy. Say you wanna have a beer later? Come on over Ill show you some of my movie stuff.”

“Y-yeah… yeah! That would rock!” I nearly jumped with excitement. Its not every day that I get to hang out with the biggest action star on earth.

I decided then not to bug the man further and went back to my house. The next few hours was an anxiety filled waking nightmare for me. I paced around my house, trying to think of what to wear or what topics we could discuss. I drank a pot of coffee because I wanted to stay sharp for fun conversation. I peered out my window drapes to see how far along the moving had taken place. Then I began to contemplate when an appropriate time would be to head over. I waited for so long that the sun went down. Finally I found a scrap of courage and put on my shoes to go knock on his door.

As I walked down his driveway, I heard a strange scraping sound coming from the back yard followed by grunting. The entire house was dark, no lights inside, no television on. I stood nervously on his porch for a moment contemplating my next move. The house did not look too inviting, so I decided it would probably be best to leave the man be.

In an afterthought, as I began to walk back to my own house, I decided to peer over his wooden fence into the backyard to see what was causing the noise. Now, I wish I hadn’t.

In the middle of the backyard, there was Bullet James with a shovel, digging a deep pit in the dark. Dirt was flying up and out into a pile alongside it. Next to the pit was something roughly the shape of a person, wrapped in trash-bags and duct tape. My jaw dropped open.

Just then Bullet James looked up and over and spotted me. We locked eyes for a split second before I turned and sprinted back to my house.

I went through my doorway and slammed the door shut. Then I locked it and deadbolt locked it and collapsed onto the floor hyperventilating. “Oh my god… oh my god…” I kept repeating to myself… sure I had just seen him burying a dead body.

After a while, the street remained quiet and no one came knocking. I convinced myself to forget what I had seen and tried to get to sleep. I finally did after 2AM.

I had managed to just about entirely wipe it away from my memory the next morning. That is until I saw the morning news. . .

“You are watching WZBX 5 and this is the morning report.” The voice from the TV announced. “Our top story today, the famous movie director Albert Simmons is missing and authorities are now involved in a nationwide manhunt to find him. He was last seen on the set of his new movie titled ‘GUNderstorm: Hail of Bullets’. Witnesses say he had a very heated argument with Actor Bullet James before storming off and he hasn’t been seen in three weeks now. Police suspect foul play. If anyone has any information please contact. . .”

I nearly dropped my bagel. Then the doorbell rang and I jumped right out of my skin.

It was James with a wide smile, waving in at me. I opened the door, trying not to shake from my nerves, and greeted him.

“Hey there partner!” James smiled. “Sorry about yesterday, I was pretty busy with moving, I never got to show you around my home!”

“Oh yeah, well. Ive got work and all. . .” I tried to play it off cool.

“No no man. I insist. Tonight, when you get done, swing on by.” Then suddenly he grabbed my forearm with one fist and squeezed it real hard to a point where I thought bones might start to crack. His smile completely melted away into the face of a steroid enraged psychopath. And he said with no kidding in his eyes “I insist. Be there!”

I nodded sheepishly and he let go of my arm and flipped the switch back to happy. “Great! Ill let you get to work then.”

That work morning, I was completely scattered. All I could think of is what the man was capable of, and mentally stable he was. I picked up the phone a half a dozen times, tempted to call the police and tell them what I had seen. But my absolute fear of the man held me back in contemplation. On the seventh time I reached for the phone, it suddenly rang before I took it off the hook. I hesitated for two more rings, thinking the phone might suddenly blow up when I touch it.

“Marlboro Associates Accounting, How can I help?”

There was dead air and slow breathing for a minute. It sent a shiver down my spine.

“Hello?” I tried again.

“This is Bullet James.” Came a monotone voice, almost directly out of one of his movies. “I look forward to seeing you tonight.”

Then the phone clicked and dial tone returned.

If there was still any doubt in my mind, I knew for sure now that the man was a complete psychopath.

The clock ticked away, now faster than I wanted it to. Every minute moved me closer to a date with a madman who probably killed his movie director. When it was time to leave, I circled the block five times in my car before driving as slowly as possible back home.

I parked my car and got out of it. Before I knew what hit me, Bullet’s arms were around me shoulders pulling me over into his house. “Hey there buddy! I saw you pull in! Oh man you are going to love this stuff!” Again with a very disturbing grin the entire time. Considering the man never smiled in his movies.

James practically shoved me through the doorway into a very nicely decorated living room, complete with lava lamps, hanging plants, and a zebra print rug. Then he walked in and slammed the door shut so hard that my heart skipped a beat.

“So check this out!” James walked into a different room and quickly came back with a pistol. “Do you know what this is?”

“It looks like a gun.” I tried to not even look at it.

“Its a custom made golden Desert Eagle. The same one I used in ‘Three Bullets to Midnight’. Its one of my favorites. I got a ton of guns. Hell I got an entire arsenal downstairs! Some foreign nation even made me an RPG rocket launcher! How cool is that!?”

“Pretty… uh. Pretty cool.” I said. Then in a weird chance to talk my way out of this situation, I added “Ever thought about toning it down on all the guns? I mean, like… In your movies.”

He didn’t like that. He grabbed a vase and smashed it against one of his walls. That mean crazy look in his eye returned. “Less guns brother!? Less guns!? Go figure! Less guns! You know my name is BULLET!”

“Hey, man I didn’t mean anything by it… take it easy…”

“You know thats what Simmons said to me! He said ‘James, I think its time we tone down all those guns!’ Ill tell you this Pal… YOU AND SIMMONS ARE WRONG!”

James then flipped over his glass coffee table in a display of primal rage. I backed over to the door, scrambling to find the handle. When I finally did, I swung the door open and once again ran back to my house in complete fear.

This time I called the police. When they got done laughing at me over the phone, I finally got them to send one officer over to talk to James. I breathed a huge sigh of relief when I hung up the phone.

I watched from a safe angle out my window as I watched a lone police cruiser pull up in front of Jame’s house. The officer got out and went up to the door. I watched James use the same initial charm that he had lured me with. The officer stepped inside.

A long time passed without any noise. The sun had gone down and the police cruiser remained parked outside. I felt my eyes grow heavy, and my exhaustion caught up with me. I dozed and slept for a while.

I was awakened later by the sound of a car door. The police cruiser started up and began down the street. Then suddenly it stopped again about ten houses down. A figure got out of it and then walked back. It was James! He was moving the police cruiser away from his house.

I ran to a different window that overlooked James’s backyard. Like clockwork, there he was digging a hole, with another body shaped bag.

I called the police once more and explained that now I had thought that their officer had been killed by him too. This got their attention.

A half an hour later, ten cop cars came screeching to a halt in front of Jame’s house. Police everywhere armed themselves with their weapons and pointed it at the house. Spotlights were shined onto it. Two officers had even come to my door and ordered me to stand behind the line of police officers for safety.

One of the policemen got onto a bullhorn. “JAMES BULLET! THIS IS THE POLICE! COME OUT WITH YOUR HANDS UP!”

“No way man!” He yelled back. “I told Simmons I’m not laying down my weapons!”

“What is he talking about?” The man with the bullhorn looked around at the other officers, who all shrugged. Then he pressed the button again. “WE HAVE YOU SURROUNDED! LAY DOWN YOUR GUNS AND YOU WILL NOT GET HURT!”

“Man I already told you! Im not laying down my guns! My guns are who I am! Without them I dont have a career!” James yelled back.

“SIR… WE . . . WE MEAN THE REAL GUNS YOU HAVE ON YOU RIGHT NOW! NOT THE WEAPONS IN … YOUR MOVIES! WE DONT REALLY… CARE ABOUT YOUR MOVIES!”

“What!?” James shouted back.

I spotted a dark tube come out of the bottom corner of one of the windows. Instinctively I yelled out “He’s Got an RPG!” Right before it was launched at the police.

Everyone dove, including myself, And there was a huge quake from the blast of the RPG hitting a police cruiser. The cruiser blew up causing a huge billow of smoke. Miraculously, everyone had managed to get out of the way in time.

There came some shouting between people in his house. Then an officer inside the house yelled out “We got him!”

As they led James Bullet into the back of a police cruiser, he caught sight of me. His eyes widened madly. “YOU! Your dead! Dead! Thats what you are! Ill never forget your face! Ill write you every day! Ill break out of prison to come find you!”

“Yeah yeah, tough guy, get in the car.” An officer said, shoving James’s head inside the door.

“DEAD!” James laughed madly from inside the car.

As I write this today, James sits in a cell in prison for life without parole. It has been three hundred days since he went in. And every day I get a hate fueled letter from him promising to kill me.