Murder For Revenge

The Enemy

A man had an enemy

Whom he loathed, hated, and despised beyond words

And so he plotted and planned his revenge

Every morning he would wake and make lists

And every afternoon he would add to them

And every evening he would sit with his shoes off

And have a nice cup of tea

While he honed and polished them

And, oh, his dreams, his richly vengeful dreams

Of shooting him

And watching him die quickly-ha ha

Or poisoning him

And watching him die slow-ooh

And hearing him beg-ho-ho-ho

Or crushing him

Under a cement steamroller-squish-splish

Or knifing him

And seeing his blood spatter-mmm-mmm

Or bludgeoning him

And seeing his brains scatter-oh, yes-oh, yes

Or snapping his neck-crrrack

Or tearing out his heart-rrrip

Or puncturing him to death

With a very small pin-he-he-he

Or impaling him

On a jagged, rusted, faeces-encrusted iron fence-yeow

Or setting him on fire

And hearing him sizzle-sssss

Or injecting him with rare and excruciating diseases-oh, yeah

Or imprisoning him in a sewer-starving him

Until he ate raw sewage

Until his stomach exploded-ka-boom

Or electrocuting him

And seeing him jump-jerk-sparkle-ahhh, beautiful

Or cutting his throat

With a butter knife-yuck-a dull one-yuck-yuck

Or disembowelling him-oh

With a garden trowel-oh-oh-a dirty one-oh-oh-oh-a dirty rusty one-ahhh

Or dropping him from a plane-whoosh

Into a sea of vomit-splat-glub-glub

Or amputating his body an inch at a time

Starting from his toes up-hey-hey

Or a centimetre at a time

From his head down-yep, yep, yep

Or a millimetre at a time

From his fingertips in-wheee

Or sewing a hungry rat up

Inside his belly-uh-huh

Or choking him to death with a giant slimy boa constrictor

Until his neck squished to putty

And his face turned purple-and his eyes popped out

And his bodily fluids squirted, gushed and geysered

From every orifice

He began matching the deed to the day of the week

Sunday-stabbing

Monday-mauling

Tuesday-throttling

Wednesday-whipping

Thursday-tarantula

Could a live tarantula fit into a man’s ear?

Would a transplanted shark foetus grow

Inside a human being?

And what about pinching?

Can one be pinched to death?

Prodded? Poked? Scratched?

These were possibilities worth considering

And tickled-to watch him expire while

That mouth laughed uncontrollably-ha ha ha

But the eyes-the eyes wouldn’t be laughing-oh, no, no

On special occasions he thought of skinning him-alive

Then rolling his body-not gently-in rock salt and honey

Then suspending him-by a barbed-wire rope

Over an anthill under a hive of killer bees

With a sex-crazed syphilitic gorilla sodomizing him-ha ha

And if he moved forward a giant crocodile

Would snap his head off

And if he lay flat the ants would gnaw him

And if he raised up he would hit the hive

And the bees-the angry bees-would get him

And if he stayed still, the panting drooling gorilla

Would love him to pieces

And if he screamed he would wake the hungry hibernating Kodiak bear

Who slept fitfully at his feet-ha ha ha

Oh, what thoughts he had.

And time went by

And then one pleasant evening

While he luxuriated in thought

Of dipping his enemy into a bathtub of piranhas

Slowly-first the toes-then the feet… then

Watching that face twisted in a-

The face… the fac… he didn’t remember the face

And when he tried to recall

What his enemy had done

He couldn’t remember that either

He had grown old

Old in plotting, old in dreaming, old in list making

Soon he might forget that there was an enemy at all

There was the terrifying possibility

That he might die before the other did

And his enemy would go unpunished

Or worse-the enemy might die first-

Of natural causes

Depriving him of his sweet revenge

He must act now

But how?

No time for the exquisite pleasure of slow starvation

He had no access to exotic poisons

Ants and bees were… unpredictable

And how do you train a gorilla

For something like that?

Stabbing? Choking? Amputations?

They needed an expert hand

And he was experienced in thought-not execution

A bullet… the bullet was it

Too quick? Yes, but after all

It was the intensity of the agony, rather than the duration

And-the horror-in those beady little eyes

The realization-ha ha

He bought a gun

He went to the house of his enemy

At least he remembered the address

He peered in the window

There he was-older and feeble

But as vile and despicable as ever

Even more vile and despicable in his decay

He levelled the gun

In a moment it would be all over

Flash-bang--plop-all over

The years of scheming and plotting

The endless plans-the endless lists

Flash-bang-scream-plop

He took aim between those red rheumy eyes

And then the thought struck him

The gun-was it loaded?

What if it misfired?

And what if he only wounded him

His hand was not that steady

Let him off with just the pain of a wound?

And be apprehended by the law?

Or miss him completely-

And, be apprehended by him

Find himself in his power

What horrible retribution that insidious

Mind might extract

No-not the gun-

A stupid choice-conceived in haste-big mistake

He dropped the gun and hurried home

He sat down in his chair

Until his heart stopped pounding

He leaned back

He closed his eyes

He thought about the rats

They wouldn’t be that hard to come by

And yes, he was none too strong

But the other looked even weaker

Choking and stabbing were not out of the question

And what about garotte?

Feeding him broken glass?-or metal filings?

Or… or breaking his bones

All of them-one at a time-every tiny little

Bone of the foot-one at a time-

Or-hey-sewing the tip of his penis

Into his abdomen-yes-and then forcing

Him to drink gallons of Bloody Mary mix-mixed with lye

He got up and got his list

He danced into the kitchen

He made himself a nice cup of tea

He brought it back to his chair

And settled back down

Bludgeoning!-he hadn’t thought of that before

Watching the pieces of that diseased brain-fly like…

Like confetti-ha ha ha ha ha ha

Bludgeoning-yes.

He put it under B.