Murder Inc

Blog Note:
This is my first stab (no pun intended) at writing something a little more gruesome. If it sucks, please blame me for never reading any horror stories.

He saw stars. He felt cool and immobile. He heard a soft sifting sound. Then, he panicked.

He tried to scream but no sound would come out. In fact, his jaw was jammed open and he had a bloody metallic taste in his mouth.

Refocusing his eyes he could see a PVC pipe towering into the night and terminating inside his aching mouth.

“There, there,” a woman said. “Please don’t worry. I am almost finished.”

A face came into view, looming over him. Even in the dark he could make out shimmering blue eyes and delicately chiseled features. The woman’s hair was pulled back into a pony tail. She was wearing a white fitted blouse and tight blue jeans.

“Remember me?” she said.

Her voice cooed at him with a sickening sweetness that rang completely false. He tried to nod his head but it too was immobile.

“Just blink once for a no and twice for a yes,” she said.

The man blinked twice.

“Oh good,” she said. “I’m just tickled you haven’t forgotten all about me.”

Her face disappeared and the sifting sound returned.

The man could tell he was in a hole. He judged the depth to be roughly five feet deep. The sifting sound he realized, with great horror, was a shovel moving through dirt. The woman was burying him alive.

“Do you remember meeting at the bar?” the woman said. “I thought getting you out here would be difficult but lucky for me you were careless. I saw you drop something in my beer. When you turned to pay I switched our glasses. Whatever you selected certainly was strong because, bless your heart, just 20 minutes later you were passed out.”

The man started to cry. The woman paused to enjoy his terror and admire how well she had duct taped him to the board he was laying on. He looked like a metallic mummy.

“Getting you into my car was easy. I simply asked two nice young men to help me get my date into my car. They didn’t even question it when I said to put in the back. I just batted my eyes and told them I didn’t want you throwing up all over the seats in my new BMW. How was the ride? I find the SUV is a smoother, trouble free driving experience. The roads can be terrible out here.”

The sifting sound continued. He could now feel the dirt landing all around him.

The woman was careful not to get any dirt on her clothes. Occasionally she checked her watch to see what time it was.

Burying the man alive was not part of her initial plan. However, she’d learned to improvise over the last few years. Things rarely went according to plan.

Her first “job” was a notorious pimp in Galveston. She had planned to simply shoot him in an alley but he instead tried to “woo” her into becoming his property with a midnight trip to the beach.

She knew what he was planning. Isolated on the far west end of the island she would be savagely beaten and raped until her willingness to say “No” was permanently disabled.

She turned the tables by stripping quickly out of her clothes and dashing into the surf. She cajoled him into following her. His uneasiness with the water convinced her to quickly punch him in the throat. Stunned, a large wave knocked him over. She pounced on him and using her surprising strength held his head under the water until he drowned.

She was exhausted but elated with her first success.

The family that intially contacted her quietly told others and soon she found her services in great demand.

The one job she regretted was the child molester at zoo. She slipped up next to him, stabbed him with a syringe full of toxins. He instantly went into cardiac arrest.

She did not regret his death. She simply did not like that several children on a field trip saw him fall over and crack his head open on the ground.

Even now, thinking about it she paused, frowned and then shook her head as if to knock the memory loose.

“You are number 13, Alan,” she said. “Do you want to know why you are here?”

She walked over to the edge of the grave and shined her flashlight in the man’s eyes.

“Blink for me, baby,” she said.

He blinked twice.

“Well… You have been a bad boy,” she said. “That wasn’t the first time you had fun with someone’s drink. In fact, I have had several complaints about you, haven’t I?”

The man blinked once for “No” sending her into a rage.

“Don’t fucking lie to me you piece of shit!” she screamed. “I connected the dots with you and it’s totally sick what you do. In fact, asshole, if I had the time –”

Her tirade was interupted by her cell phone ringing.

She stepped back from the edge of the grave to answer it.

“Hello,” she said. “Oh you did? That’s wonderful. I am so proud of you.”

She stood there listening quietly to her phone.

“Well, mommy is almost done and when I get home I’ll tuck you into bed. I love you too.”

She slid her phone into her pocket and walked back to the edge of the grave.

“Alan, I have to speed things up,” she said. “We both know there is at least 26 different women you roofied. We both know you posted videos of what you did to those poor girls online. We both know it’s going to end now, permanently.”

The man began to cry again. The woman continued covering him in dirt.

When the grave was full, she grabbed the pipe and jerked it up out of the ground.

“Good night, Alan,” she said, leaving him to suffocate under 5,000 pounds of dirt.

Then she loaded the shovel and pipe into her car, checked her watch and drove home.

It was a job well done.

Exclusive Santa Claus Interview

Not to brag but getting an interview with Santa Claus in December is quite a catch. So I hope you enjoy getting behind the myth and deep into the jolliest soul around.

Me: So you’ve been in the toy distribution business since 1 AD. What were you doing before?

Santa: I was in the export/import business working the myrr arb from India to Israel. I also did a little bit of sanitation work.

Me: And the gift giving?

Santa: Well it started out as promotional give aways. The wise men were all over the marketing that first year, tied into their Bubbles Camel Wash chain. So I jumped in with Santa’s Sanitation frisbees and stress balls around 2 AD. By the time Jesus was 27 he said, “Hey Santa, how about some good shit this year?”

One thing led to another. The early years were easy. Just some Nazareth stops. Then we expanded into Bethlehem. The whole thing got crazy huge around 110 AD.

Me: When did you re-locate to the North Pole?

Santa: I got a thing for real estate and this worked out well. Europe was getting less pagan, the Muslims took over the middle east. So, yah, I’m glad I
moved up here 1,000 years ago.

Me: And the elves?

Santa: They are a pain in the ass. Next year we go into labor talks.

Me: Reindeers?

Santa: Love them. I started out with dogs. You know… “On Harley! On Red Merle! On Blue Merle! On Corky!” Loved working the sleigh with those dogs. Only needed four of them. Then one day Blue Merle fought some guy’s pit bull. Harley picked up this habit where he’d bark non-stop every where we flew. Then Corky ripped up some lady’s book shelf. The last straw was when Red Merle tore apart a bag of stuffed animals.

So they lay around the house now.

The reindeer just seemed like a nice fit. I thought about using penguins but I would have needed at least 50 to
pull the sleigh, and, well, no amount of magic dust could get them to fly right.

Me: So let’s play a game. I’ll say a name and you say “Naughty or Nice”

Santa: Okay…

Me: The Strokes?

Santa: Nice. Hell, they help me deliver gifts in NYC every year.

Me: Taylor Swift?

Santa: Naughty and annoying.

Me: Obama?

Santa: Nice.

Me: Romney?

Santa: He’s nice too.

Me: Sasha Grey?

Santa: So nicely naughty. All porn stars and what most call “sluts” are on my nice list. They give so much joy to everyone else.

Me: My Social Media followers?

Santa: Uh… I think they are about 85% nice.

Me: Joel Osteen?

Santa: Naughty. In fact, Jesus called and put almost all Baptists and other born agains on the naughty list. He hates them. We replaced them with the Jews this year. I think we should have had the Jews on the list from the get go but Jesus, being Jewish, thought it would mess up Chanukah.

The rule this year is, if you’re Jewish and have any sort of Christmas type lights or a tree or anything, I’m stopping in.

Me: Dogs?

Santa: Mostly nice.

Me: Cats?

Santa: Mostly naughty.

Me: You’ve had scandals in the past…

Santa: Okay, look, I’ve been around over 2,000 years. Shit happens, okay?

Yah, I got drunk at Oscar Wilde’s once and let Jack Frost nip at my nose. It was one time!

Me: And the Tooth Fairy?

Santa: That caused a lot of pain in my marriage. We were friends. We’d share tips on how to bypass home security systems and how to avoid being shot in Alabama etc, etc.

One thing led to another and I fell in love. I always loved and will love Mrs. Claus. But I love the tooth fairy too.
Me: Any tough gift requests this year?

Santa: Yah…

I’m sorry about your mom’s cancer but I can’t help you. I feel bad because you’re such a big booster for me but I can’t gift wellness or life. Sorry.

Me: It’s okay. I understand.

Santa: There’s this other girl who wants a galaxy. I gave her one when she was 5-years-old but she lost it so I’m not doing that again.

Me: Okay, any thoughts about retiring?

Santa: Actually… Yes. I’ve picked out my replacement. It’s time for a girl to do this job. She lives in a red state. Once she turns 40 I’m going to start training her and then she’ll take over at 45.

The key to being Santa is not having children of your own. Also, you gotta be super upbeat and positive.

Me: Why a girl?

Santa: I think it’s time for a gender change. Besides, a sexy Santa will be pretty cool.

Me: So… Cougar Claus in 5 to 10 years?

Santa: Exactly!

Me: Before you go, one time…

Santa: Okay…

Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!

How was that?

Me: I don’t know. I’ve heard better.

Santa: I know, that guy at the Fox Valley Mall in Aurora, Illinois does it the best.

Maybe I should switch to “Merry Christmas, bitches! Deuces!”

Me: No. Don’t.