You’ll show them. You’ll show them all. The ones who laughed in your face. The ones who jeered behind your back. Soon they’ll know what it is to fear. Soon they will understand your pain. Even in death they will understand it. Of course you have a plan. In the bottom of the desk drawer. Scrawled on paper napkins in grease pencil. Your path to redemption. Only through cleansing destruction can the world become pure once again. Slash and burn a particular stand of cedars and the rest of the forest shall be spared from the inferno.

This is your mantra. Repeat it through gritted teeth as you drive to work. Mutter it under your breath as you stack and push envelopes at the post office. A coworker passes nearby. And did you see? A twitch of the mouth. A quickening step. A fearful look in the eyes. Had they heard you? You’ll take no chances; quickly now, there’s no time to lose. In the trunk of your car sits a rifle swaddled in mother’s old woolen shawl. When held, it makes one feel heavy and sure and safe. You open the trunk and the burnished metal glistens in the sun.


Your Sadness Level: Terrifyingly High


Your IQ: 142
 

What’s on your TV?

• Dexter
• Old Episodes of Homicide: Life on the Street
• Zubilee Zoo

What’s Coming Out of Your Stereo?

• Wagner
• Huey Louis and the News
• Anything You Can Easily Dance to With Genitals Tucked Between Legs

What’s in your Trash?

• Yellowing Photographs Which Seemingly Depict Picturesque Childhood
• Set of Elderly Woman’s False Teeth
• Mannequin Head Smeared With Lipstick