The S Project: I, the Killer. Earlier this month, I stated that I couldn’t even fictionalize myself as a killer. Something happened today to change my mind.
“Have you heard of that new reality show, America’s Most Smartest Model?” she asked.
I twitched. Well, to be more accurate, my left eye twitched. “Yes, I have heard of it,” I replied, “and there’s a reason I don’t watch it.”
The incomparable Izzybella giggled. “Every time I hear the name of that show, I think of you.”
Jehara laughed. “The models on that show do sound really dumb. ‘Yes,’” she said, mimicking one, “‘as America’s most smartest model, I would say’ blah blah blah.” She and the incomparable Izzybella laughed together.
My left eye twitched some more.
The incomparable Izzybella, always one to beat a dead horse long after it, lucky beast, has stopped twitching, said, “Today Carol said something was quite unique. It made me think of you, too, and I giggled.”
I saw red. I dropped my bag. I ran across the room and ran at her with full force. “YOU! MUST! NOT! MODIFY! AN! ABSOLUTE!” I shrieked over and over. “YOU! MUST! NOT! MODIFY! AN! ABSOLUTE!”
I became aware of Jehara screaming at the top of her lungs. My hands were clasped convulsively around the incomparable Izzybella’s neck, and her face was purple.
“What have I done?” I sobbed.
The incomparable Izzybella fell to the floor.
Jehara stood over her corpse and shook her head sadly. “She was the most unique person I ever met.”
I slowly turned around. “YOU! MUST! NOT! MODIFY! AN! ABSOLUTE!”