Sometimes you kill your dad because you want to fuck your
mom. Sometimes you kill your dad because
you want to fuck your sister. Sometimes
you kill your dad so you can inherit the wealth he stashed away during the
1960s when Nazis used him to safeguard their gold so Jews wouldn’t take it from
their burning corpses after impromptu war crimes trials conducted in the depths
of the Argentinean wilds.
Your situation is a lot simpler.
Your dad drinks way too much and likes to smoke crack. Sometimes after he smokes crack he gets
violent. Tonight is going to be one of
the nights where he gets violent and, right in the middle of you watching
Seinfeld on DVD, he’ll burst into your basement room/laundry room combo and
come at you with a hammer. He’ll catch
you on the foot (he’ll be incredibly high on crack) and then tumble to the
ground, screaming about something incoherently (he’ll believe that it’s about
Jennifer Aniston).
He’ll struggle to get up, coming at you again and again with
the hammer until you punch him in the fist and he drops it. Then he’ll try to wrap his hands around your
throat. The crack will give him
strength, but the years of using will have worn his muscles down. He’ll struggle to get his hands around your
windpipe, squeezing with just enough force to interrupt the flow of oxygen. You’ll have no choice. You’ll have to grab his throat and start
pressing him towards unconsciousness.
But the chemicals in his brain will be screaming. They’ll keep it from turning off without
oxygen, keep it from shutting down. It’ll
make his nerves scream FIGHT. LIVE. STRUGGLE.
KILL. RAGE.
It will scream until the lights go dark, fall off and he
slumps down in between your hands and stops, once and for all, breathing.
You won’t realize what’s happened until he’s long gone,
totally out of it. Spittle will dribble
down his cheek and his clothes will suddenly begin to smell a little worse than
they already did – no mean feat. When
you put your hand in front of his mouth and no longer feel any breath you’ll
know just what’s happened.
You’ll calmly set his head down on the floor and call 9-1-1,
telling them what’s happened. The
operator, when she finally tells you she’s sending someone, will put you on
hold. You’ll listen to the hold music
rehearsing your story. It will be the
truth, but you know that doesn’t necessarily mean much in situations like
yours.
Congratulations on Strangling Your Father!
No comments:
Post a Comment