turn a bad breakfast into murder, make millions and get the girl! (results may vary)

You ditch your sensible granola breakfast and decide to grab a fast food sandwich on your way to work. Within minutes your stomach feels as if Montezuma is juggling bowling balls inside it. It doesn’t take long before your belly files a class action suit against your bowels. So you leave work early and miss a meeting, after which it is decided that your position is duplicitous and you recieve a pink slip. Not surprisingly, your hot girlfriend turns Ice Princess and fires you as well.

A job search turns into the Bataan Death March. You quickly discover that your resume- once solid- has become a hindrance. You’re overqualified in most instances and the higher paying jobs have dried up. So you decide to dip into the rainy day fund, take a month off and enjoy all of the things you’ve been missing out on. Like travel. And daylight. And sleep.

Upon returning from the islands, you receive a job tip from a friend you used to work with. Your interview goes really well after which your friend calls to let you know the job is as good as yours.

Hold the boat. The company decides to split the responsibilities of the job and hire two less qualified candidates at a fraction of your pay grade in a two for one deal. Of course, you missed this voicemail while you were busy spending a small fortune on threads for your new job. And now it occurs to you that you’ve gone through Charlie Sheen strip club money and you still have no job. And to make matters worse, the mortgage, car and alimony payments are due. Not to mention the escort service bills you’ve been running up since your hot girlfriend left.

You decide to procure a loan. Your credit history is perfect but you A) don’t have a job, B) don’t have a co-signer, C) hence, you don’t have a loan. So you take a job at a big box store for a much needed cash infusion when your friend with that can’t lose job tip strolls in with your hot ex-girlfriend. You’d like to suffocate him with a bag of cheese puffs but instead you talk sports. He asks you out for drinks later and you say sure. He’s paying.

At the bar that evening, he confesses that he was the one who made the decision to let you go after you ditched the meeting he had convened. He thought you were onto the fact that he was bilking the company out of some really stupid money, so he did a pre-emptive strike figuring you would be too pissed off at the bosses about losing your job to turn dime on a brother in arms.

This is where quiet rage alchemizes into brilliant inspiration as the spirit of Montresor courses through your veins, imploring you to wreak some good old fashioned Poe-like vengeance. You invite him back to your place for some advice on a construction project you have going on, appealing to his pitiable ego while at the same time planning his demise.

You lure your drunken friend to the basement where construction of your man cave is back underway thanks to a shit load of cinder blocks you purchased at a deep discount from your big box employer. You position him behind a six foot high wall with a level and a bottle of Grey Goose and then proceed to seal his fate. As you place the last cinder block into position, you hear a blood curdling scream. “I don’t have cell reception down here!”

The police and your hot ex-girlfriend show up the next morning. It seems your friend has gone missing and the GPS on his i-Pod led them to your place. She’s sick with worry since it’s her i-Pod and it contains her entire music library.

You go on trial for murder and your lawyer uses the “China Syndrome” defense to get you acquitted. It seems the cinder blocks you purchased were made in China and as such, were highly toxic. He points to autopsy results determing the cause of your friend’s death to have been the result of toxic poisoning and he argues that you were suffering from mind-altering hallucinations on the night in question as the result of the dangerous fumes you were inhaling. The case is cinched when your lawyer exploits your disfigured Gigantour hands by asking you to try on a pair of gloves for the jury and borrowing one of the most famous lines in the history of jurisprudence, “If the gloves don’t fit, you must acquit!”

After the trial you sue your big box employer for $150 million dollars, which works out to $15 million per finger or $75 million per middle finger. You start dating the Ice Princess who is perfect for you since you don’t have any feeling in your hands.

Your best selling motivational book “The Building Blocks to a Better Life!” is made into a movie and while on the set you meet Jennifer Aniston. The two of you live happily ever after for the next seven weeks.

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19 thoughts on “turn a bad breakfast into murder, make millions and get the girl! (results may vary)

  1. Excellent! Love the punch line

    I’ve been working project based on a simiar premise–
    a graphic novel called ‘My Imaginary Lives’

    ‘My Imaginary Lives’ traces RJ’s ‘life’, considering actual occurrences and how they might have had a cathartic effect on his journey through life ……. though most of them had no effect whatsoever on his ‘career’. (Oxford English Dictionary: career vb. To fall headlong out of control)

    This fictional journey features a cast which includes the Archbishop of Canterbury, Joanna Lumley, Anaïs Nin and Arthur Schopenhauer, and wanders into worlds as diverse as blacksmithing, jazz, antique fountain pens and tattooing.

  2. Thank you good sir.

    I really dig where you’re coming from, even if I have no blessed idea as to how you expect to get there. Which is what makes for great fiction, after all. As far as the players go, I imagine the Archbishop and Lumley might get along quite well. But Schopenhauer is a curveball and Nin is way left field. I love her possibilities most.

    I’m working on some fiction of my own- it includes politicians, lawyers, old money, the golden age of baseball and really good shoes. I purposely keep religion out of my stuff for fear that I will be struck by lightning or something.

    Best of luck with your work.

  3. Only just got this comment (why is it that the ‘please notify me of follow up comments’ might as well read’ Ticking this box is as futile as hoping that starting to write a blog will make you a world famous author…’

    re no blessed idea…
    what a coincidence— me neither- but I have noted that copious amounts of alcohol do not hinder my development and may enhance my perception of my minuscule efforts… But never forget the great words of Professor Howard Trevor Jacobs on receiving the Descartes Prize.
    “Brainstorming over a few beers one night is likely to produce more exciting result than twenty years of solitary study”
    Just bear that in mind… I do .. . well I try to . . .

  4. Ha! This was hilarious! “China Syndrome” defense, “The Building Blocks to a Better Life!”
    and living happily for the next seven weeks! Ha You cracked me up. Great story. I found you on Susie Lindau’s Wild Ride page. Thanks for posting the story!

  5. I would call you a bastard for laughing, but you’re married, so you probably hear that all the time. Instead, I’ll call you ‘tha man’, and thank you kindly.

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