The day had come when I could stand that stomach no more. It was a Sunday so there were no lectures. I presumed he would do as he always did on Sundays, what he did best- to sit, read and eat. As planned, I was to treat him in the best possible manner, with a cooked breakfast like a true British gentleman and made his life as comfortable as possible. I would then serve him lunch and serve him a drink of the finest ale spiked with the Potassium Cyanide I had taken from the labs. However this did not go as planned. I was just preparing breakfast when he announced that he was to go on a diet and was to eat his own healthy food. I was furious, somehow he knew my plan.
As I walked about ranting in my rage, he stood up to try and restrain me under his immense weight with his books around him on the floor. I picked the biggest one entitled ‘The Complete Reference of Penalties and Sanctions’. You should have seen the power with which I hurtled the book at his head, knocking him to the floor after one blow, but he was not dead. I repeatedly hit him with the book until I could hear breathing from his fat chest no more. The fat hump that extruded unnaturally from the body sat as helpless as ever. Never more, for I had killed him.
You may think I am mad, but no, there was a reason for killing my best and only friend. His bare presence was enough to scare all heaven seeking beings to a far away land. I can still think of those huge shirts he had to wear just to conceal obese rolls of fat, those clumps of skin just sitting, mocking my very existence. Never more, for I had killed him.
But oh I do wish he could’ve be with me this day, to lift me from my shameful misery and loneliness, to be with me in my day of awe. How I would’ve done anything just to have one last pint and hearty chuckle at the pub. Never more, for I had killed him.
I worked myself into a desperate fury, trying to block out all the good times we had together. As I paced around the flat shouting in my rage I couldn’t help but notice all the possessions around me that had belonged to the betrayed, the oversized bed in the corner, and the coffee mug in the sink. I closed my eyes to try and get any relief from this hellish nightmare but all I could think of was him. His voice echoed in my ear and I was driven to the most extreme insanity, I could’ve sworn he had come to haunt me. Never more, for he was dead.
