Ordinary Insanity

    Out of all the things that could—and most likely should—be running through my head at this very moment as I sit motionless staring out the window of the car as it barrels down the cracked country road, the fields of corn flying past us without any sign of stopping like a perpetual scene being constantly painted outside the glass, this is the thought in my head: I have to be crazy.  How else would I be able to listen to the conversation that has been going on between the three women in the car for the last thirty minutes and not either A: start to cry because of the insanity that is slowly but surely filling the car or B: slip into a downward spiral of psychosis which ultimately leads to my joining of the other crazed passengers in the seat in front of me?

    “Hm.  I just bought a new iron.  It heats up real fast.  Maybe we could use that.”

    “I like the idea of tying every one of her teeth to a separate door and closing them one by one while we watch her scream.”

    “Wait!  Where do the pliers come into play?  I’ve always wanted to pull of someone’s finger nails.”

    “We have to do this classy though.  We’re going to need some black leather jackets, black turtlenecks, maybe some dark denim jeans, and definitely some black ski masks.”

    “Don’t forget the monogrammed linen to lay the tools out with!”

    “You know… I’ve got a boathouse out back we could use.  We could always electrocute her.”

    “Maybe then we could just tie her to a cinder block and throw her in the lake.”

    “No, that won’t work.  The lake isn’t deep enough.  Everyone will see her pasty white dead forehead popping out of the water."

    If I had no prior knowledge of the conversation, I would assume they were planning to kidnap and torture someone of importance.  Sadly though, the truth is more dull and ordinary.  The eldest starts to narrate the entire operation from start to finish.  I, having already established that I too am crazy, of course listen intently to the plot that is unfolding before my very eyes.

    “We can buy the clothes at Walmart, it’ll save us some money.  It has to be stylish but I didn’t say it had to be expensive.  We’ll rendezvous at point A—aka her house--,” she points to the lunatic in the front seat, “and we will move the equipment to point B—aka the boat house—and organize them by function, then size, then color, in that order.  Then, you,” pointing at the youngest of the crazed women, “creep quietly through the grass to point C—aka the target’s back porch—and enter through the backdoor which is always kept unlocked.  After you give us the signal—aka jazz hands—we will follow into the house.  Now this is where it gets tough.  We need to find a way to put some of my Ambien into her water that she keeps by her bedside; we also have to find a way to wake her up without her seeing us and have her take a drink.  If we can accomplish that we are golden.  If she takes the bait we can just carry her out and tie her up in the boathouse. We wait until 3 A.M. and slap her until she wakes up.  By this time, of course, we will have already set up the car battery which we will use to shock her, as well as the iron.  If she won’t tell us where she is hiding the goods, we start the torture.  Wait.  No.  It’s not torture.  As George W. would say, it’s just a little persuasion.’  After we ‘persuade’ her little by little, that’s when we start getting meaner and meaner.  Starting with the pinkies we peel off her nails and watch her scream.  Once she can’t take it anymore that’s when we shock her for the last time.  Then we just finish her off by tying her to the makeshift cinderblock anchor and put her in the barrel and watch it sink.  To clear the air of any suspicion we have to completely sanitize and clean the entire boathouse and then we shoot off a handgun, throw that in the lake, and call the police to report the gunshot.  Piece of cake.”

    It’s hard to believe that the “goods” they were after the whole time were just some plain, old kitchen knives and two sconces that are needed for decoration in the kitchen.