Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Serial Killer's Diary: Part 17

**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**

10/22/13   11:59 PM

      I woke up this morning feeling like crap and blaming Jack and his damn flu.  I was tempted to call off tonight but I’m so glad I didn’t!  Dick switched it up.  He and his floozy came in tonight.  The hostess sat him in Sean’s section but I wasn’t about to let a prime opportunity slip though my fingers.  Sean suddenly ended up with a case of explosive diarrhea after I put a whole mess of Ex-Lax in his coffee cup.  I think, not that it matters, that I even managed to get Don to like me.  When Sean went down, I told Don not to worry I could handle both stations.  He looked shocked.  Not only did he thank me, he stayed out of my hair.  He even shook my hand at the end of the night, thanked me again, and told me I was “a stand-up guy”.  Whatever.  I only wanted to get to Dick. Before Sean’s pressing engagement with the toilet, I slipped out to my car to get the Roofies.  I noticed one small flaw in my otherwise perfect plan.  I had forgotten to put my driving gloves back in the car.  I had worn them inside after dealing with Natalie’s Jackass now-dead boyfriend.  I was starting to panic when I realized I had something even better right here in the kitchen-latex gloves.  All the food handlers wear them. (or at least they’re supposed to wear them)
      Everything else went according to plan.  I started with the half-dose in his tramp’s wine.  Next it was a sprinkle on her salad then some more on her entrée.  You should have seen Dick’s face.  He was furious that she was so sloppy drunk.  I could hear him hissing at her under his breath to get her act together.  Halfway through the entrée she was slurring and could barely keep her head up.  In my most professional tone, I asked Dick if I could interest him in some dessert or perhaps some coffee.  At first he said no, he wanted the check.  Very softly, so that no one else could hear, I said, “How about if I bring you both some coffee, no charge.  It might do the lady some good.”  I knew I was pressing my luck.  He might have socked me one right in the face but he looked at me with appreciation and thanked me.  Mwah ha ha. 
      Just like I’d planned, I put the rest of the ground up Roofies in his coffee and I told him I’d be back in a few minutes with his check.  He’d noticed that I was running around like a madman trying to clean up two stations so he told me to take my time.  I did.  I wanted to make sure he had plenty of time to finish his coffee.  When he’d drank every last drop I brought him his check and even helped him get his tramp out to his car.  He slipped an extra $20 cash in my hand-in addition to the $25 that he’d tallied onto his credit card slip.  Don was so impressed with the way I’d handled the 2 stations he let me go and had Brandi stay to help him lock up. 
      With a pocketful of latex gloves, I hopped into my car.  I could see Dick’s sleek Beemer darting out of the parking lot and I was just behind him.  I could see him dragging her to their room.  He was staggering pretty badly as well-which is good for me. I was glad to see their room was on the second floor because there weren’t any security cameras on the upper tier.  I still can’t believe a rich guy like him would take a woman to a motel where the doors are directly outside.  C’mon man, at least spring for a Comfort Inn.  Anyway, I gave them a few minutes to settle in as I got my Heisenberg hat and the rest of my stuff ready. 
      It was easier than taking candy from a baby.  He stumbled to the door, opened it and nearly fell on top of me.  Hoochie-mamma was out cold and Dick’s skull split like an overripe melon.   His blood and brain matter were splattered all over the tramp as I pressed the hammer into her hand.  She’s a righty, by the way.  Then I slipped out without a sound.  I was in my car congratulating myself on my successful mission when I heard a gunshot.  There, shadowing the doorway of Dick’s motel room was the outline of a woman. I didn’t stick around to find out what was going on up there.  I’m sure I’ll read about it in the newspaper tomorrow.  I’m exhausted and I’m going to bed.  

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