A Psychotic Chain of Events
J. Arthur Goodwin
Sarah Gardner had a choice to make. She could either shoot herself or shoot her husband. The serial killer had made this quite clear. But Sarah was a maverick, she did things her own way. Just last week she drove a dump truck through a brick wall without giving it a moments thought.
So what did Sarah do, you ask? It’s quite simple. She ordered a pizza. Her husband, Max Gardner, had been complaining for hours about being hungry. She paced around the room, holding her cell phone to her ear, waiting for the pizza place to pick up. After a few rings, a young woman answered. “Crazy Ed’s Pizza Shack, how may I help you?”
“Hi, I’d like to order a large pizza with extra anchovies. And could you throw in a small container of blue cheese with that?” she said, looking at her husband who was giving her the thumbs up.
This pissed off the serial killer something awful. His blood boiled like brutal, cocaine lava. Sarah Gardner had broken the rules. The entire time he had been watching from a secret room. He pulled a ski mask down over his face and started for the chamber where he had been keeping Sarah Gardner and her husband. When he slid open the door to the chamber he was met with a gruesome sight. This is where it gets interesting. Max Gardner was eating Sarah’s body. A piece of brain dangled from his mouth. “What the hell have you done?” the serial killer asked in horror.
“I couldn’t wait for the pizza!” howled Max Gardner. He sounded like a constipated retard.
“You’ve ruined everything! I’m gonna tear you limb from limb!” screamed the serial killer. But then, just as the serial killer was about to whip out his machete and tear Max Gardner a new asshole, an FBI agent dropped from the ceiling and shot him in the throat with a .22 silenced pistol. The serial killer thrashed about the room, spurting blood and making dumb gurgling sounds. In a last ditch effort for a laugh, the serial killer stood up straight, saluted the room, and said, in his best Porky Pig impression, “Tha-tha-tha-that’s all folks!” Then his tongue came flopping out his mouth, his eyes rolled back into his head, and he fell to the floor next to Sarah Gardner’s corpse.
Max Gardner was still eating Sarah Gardner’s brains. He looked up at the FBI agent with a look of despair and spoke with a mouthful of gore, “This tastes like shit. I should have waited for the pizza.” The FBI agent was appalled. He had seen a lot of strange things over the course of his career, like the time he had watched a monkey bungee jump off of the Seattle Space Needle. But nothing could compare to this. He took out his cell phone and sent his wife a text message. “Dear baby girl, I’m going to kill myself. Good luck raising our daughter alone. Bye.” He then shot himself with his own piece and fell to the floor next to serial killer’s corpse. Max Gardner took a deep breath, rolled his eyes, and asked himself, “How the heck is one hombre supposed to eat three people all by himself?”
The End
Goodwin ’86
You make me weep for mankind.