My housemate murdered another person this morning.
Brutally over the course of two hours.
I was powerless to stop it.
He apparently has a new victim nearly every morning.
And I am afraid to leave my room until the carnage is over.
It starts in his bathroom--which adjoins my bedroom wall-- with the opening and slamming of approximately 20 drawers and cabinets. I can only imagine he is frantically selecting the perfect weapons.
Then I believe he transitions to waterboarding and various forms of electrical torture judging from the sounds of toilet flushings and vibrato buzzings and coughs and belches.
It really ramps up as the melee moves to the kitchen.
I can only imagine the terrible war crimes and atrocities committed involving knives, metal pots and pans thrown around like axes, and ... coffee grinding? Vitamix blending? I am sure it is much more sinister.
It comes to a close with several door slammings as I can only imagine the larger body parts that were not ground in the Vitamix and coffee grinder are dragged out for dispersion and disposal so as to be undiscoverable by satellite imaging or the latest K-9 search and rescue techniques.
I check that the coast is clear out my shower window and emerge with forensic intent to discover that the place doesn't look too bad. An occasional dinner plate chip, sometimes an oven burner still on or microwave door open. Nothing I can really call the cops or the FBI about.
I keep looking for clues.
Brutally over the course of two hours.
I was powerless to stop it.
He apparently has a new victim nearly every morning.
And I am afraid to leave my room until the carnage is over.
It starts in his bathroom--which adjoins my bedroom wall-- with the opening and slamming of approximately 20 drawers and cabinets. I can only imagine he is frantically selecting the perfect weapons.
Then I believe he transitions to waterboarding and various forms of electrical torture judging from the sounds of toilet flushings and vibrato buzzings and coughs and belches.
It really ramps up as the melee moves to the kitchen.
I can only imagine the terrible war crimes and atrocities committed involving knives, metal pots and pans thrown around like axes, and ... coffee grinding? Vitamix blending? I am sure it is much more sinister.
It comes to a close with several door slammings as I can only imagine the larger body parts that were not ground in the Vitamix and coffee grinder are dragged out for dispersion and disposal so as to be undiscoverable by satellite imaging or the latest K-9 search and rescue techniques.
I check that the coast is clear out my shower window and emerge with forensic intent to discover that the place doesn't look too bad. An occasional dinner plate chip, sometimes an oven burner still on or microwave door open. Nothing I can really call the cops or the FBI about.
I keep looking for clues.
