Wednesday, October 16, 2013

Serial Killer's Diary: Part 12

**Warning: these entries may be graphic and, hopefully, frightening.  Keep in mind this is merely fiction.  No humans (or animals) have or will be harmed in the production of this blog.  All names have been chosen at random and are not meant to represent anyone, living or dead.  Any similarities are purely coincidental** 

10/16/13       8:00 AM

      Okay, I’ve mapped it all out.  I’ve got the perfect plan so even if Dick and his hoochie-mama show up tonight (even though they shouldn’t) I will be ready.  
      I’ve already ground the Roofies up into a fine powder and divided it up into dose sized packets.  On her second glass of wine, Dick’s “date” will get a half-dose of powder added in (at no extra charge)  She will appear tipsy at first.  As their meal progresses she will get more powder sprinkled on her food or in her drink.  God bless the drug companies for developing this odorless, tasteless little gem. Toward the end of the meal, the little lady (and I use that term loosely) will be barely able to hold her head up.  Dick will assume she’s drunk so they’ll both order coffee.  If not, I will recommend it as an attempt to help her sober up.  That’s when the last dose will go into Dick’s coffee.  I need for him to be able to drive to their crappy little love nest before it kicks in.  I will be following right behind them the whole way.  If their last tryst was any indication, Dick will have already checked in before arriving at the restaurant.  He’ll already have his key and drag his barely conscious date to their room.  A moment to two later I will knock on the door and he should be feeling almost drunk by then.  When he opens the door, he will see a man dressed in black with the brim of a “Heisneberg hat” pulled down low (Thank you, Breaking Bad!). I’d even sprung for a cheap pair of glasses from the dollar store to help detract from my appearance.  Before Dick can react, I’m going to crack him in the head with a hammer.  I will immediately push my way inside and shut the door.  My black leather driving gloves will prevent fingerprints as I choke the last breath from Dick’s lungs.  I can almost see him looking up at me with tear-filled, terrified eyes just like that bitch Jenkins.  Then, the icing on the cake…I’ll take the hammer and smash his skull open.  I’ll put the hammer in his tramp’s hands and squeeze her fingers around the handle.  I’ll splatter her with Dick’s blood and, just for fun, maybe some brain fragments.  
      Someone will have to take the rap and it sure as hell won’t be me!  I will keep a close eye on her while she eats to make sure I know if she’s right-handed or a lefty.  This time I’ve planned out every step and nothing is left to chance.  I already have a bag packed and safely stashed in my car with everything I will need: 1 brand new ball peen hammer completely wiped of fingerprints, 1 travel sized packet of antibacterial hand wipes, 1 pair black leather driving gloves, 1 pair of cheap glasses, 1 Heisenberg hat, one pair of size 13 pull-over galoshes or what they now call “rubber over shoes” to prevent anyone from linking an accidental footprint to me since I wear a size 11 shoe, and finally, the powdered Roofies. 
      All I have to do now is wait-which is always the hardest part.  As much as I want it to be tonight, I know they won’t come two weeks in a row.  But I’ll be ready if they do.  

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