‘Do you want to know my secret?
I have a loving wife, two young children, and I go to church every Sunday. Except my job, the one that funds my lifestyle, is different.
I kill people.
It’s what I do when I meet my targets. I call them targets, but really they’re victims. The last hit - wheels within wheels. Physco Inc. contracted me to carry out the standard ‘hit & run’ accident. I don’t ask why.
Perhaps I should.
I’m not evil; my childhood was normal apart from feeding flies into a spider’s web. My teenage years passed without event, except my best mate, Terry, drowned in suspicious circumstances.
Shame I couldn’t rescue him.
Then I met Louise. She’s not my current wife, because Louise had an accident while high on amphetamines.
She never took drugs, I told the police.
Physco Inc. is owned by a ‘friend of a friend’. I had a reputation in town of being way-out, but it was unfounded. I’m as normal as the next guy. I guess I made an impact at my initial interview. There were three of us, initially. We were each given guns loaded with two bullets. Russian roulette. Except I found a better solution.
Tragic accident, I told the police.
Physco Inc. demanded I took a wife, became respectable. Okay, I could do that. Sadie, a hippie with body tattoos was my choice, and our two kids, Manson and Selena, were conceived. See, I am normal.
Now here I am with Samantha. I told her not to panic. I like her.
Her eyes widen as I screw a silencer onto my gun. Well we don’t want to disturb her neighbours, do we? Sorry I had to tie her up and gag her mouth, but it’s a whole lot simpler, I’ve found.
She seems to be wondering why I chose her. Well, it beats working in a factory. Ah, I understand. To be honest, I’m not told why. Samantha’s attractive enough. Maybe she mounted a member of parliament, and threatened to ‘kiss and tell’.
She’s shaking her head at me and making mewing noises. Her perfume smells off. Oh dear, now she’s made a mess on the sheet. Additional cleaning costs that Physco Inc. will need to pay.
Would she prefer I use her pillow? This one has a teddy bear on the cover. Some do, you know. I don’t know why. A bullet is far quicker. She only has to nod. Gun ... or pillow?
Hey, now she’s crying. Tears affect me. My kids don’t want to see a sad Dad when I get back. My choice then. Eenny meeney miney mo ... gun or pillow, here we go...’