Weapon Of Choice
I live with this guy. Dont
ask me why. He wakes up and catapults himself out
of bed. He wakes me up, too. Im out of work.
I dont have to be up.
'You gotta seize the day',
I want to seize his neck
and strangle the cliché out of him. Or carve it
on his back with a burning stick but I dont
have one handy.
He drags me to the kitchen
and I watch him crack egg after egg.
I wonder: what would happen
if I whacked him in the head with the pan? Would
it put him back to sleep?
The breakfast champion
startles me with a roar. What now? Hes
forced a banana (skin on), a head of broccoli, a
melons heart, a leg of lamb?? into the
blender. Thats it. Im shoving him in
there. Ill drink my coffee, then Ill
drink him. Ill go for manslaughter.
Temporary insanity? The kind you get when youve
had less than an hour of sleep. Show me a jury
that wouldnt buy it.
Sell it, sell it,
he says, pretending hes on the phone, 'Big
bonus coming up - gotta psych myself up.'
A bonus? I think, Happy
That mean you could
afford your own flat? I say, Gosh, Id
be sad to see you go but if you have to
Aw, dont be sad
Johnny. Wouldnt leave my bed bud not
when he needs me most. Besides, figured our pad
needs a little perk up.
Worst. Birthday. Ever.
Was thinking monster
Monster what? More
sounds? In the morning??
and about time we got
a bigger blender dont you think?
I say and tail off. I cover my sleep-starved face
with my hands.
Hes rapping on my
Wait a second did
he say bigger blender? If it fits more of
him, the bigger the better!
I retract my hands. My face
feels funny because Im smiling and I cant
remember the last time I smiled this early.
First-degree murder will
have to do.