The night was as cold as hell. Well, not literally, as hell has a tendency to be rather warm, but it was bleakly bitter and the scene has now been set, nonetheless.
I was on my way to the car after a late evening of stealing office supplies, and then rearranging the stationery cupboard to disguise the fact that anything had been taken. It’s tiring work, waiting until everyone else has gone home and then taking enough staples to secure a bear to cliff face with. I couldn’t wait to get home and put these ill gotten wares on eBay. Taking photographs of each individual staple to ensure integrity, and then listing each one as a separate item would be hard work, so much so that I was thinking of taking the rest of the week off sick just to get it all done.
Fumbling for my keys in my pocket, I scouted around the car park for my vehicle. The place was completely full this morning. Now there was only my car and another vehicle with its headlights on. In fact, I noticed that the other car was slowly coming towards me. A blue Mitsubishi Colt was heading through the gloom, straight toward me.
Feeling a little exposed, I moved to the side and pushed my iPod headphones further into my ears, trying to drown out the approaching engine sound with the soothing tones of N Dubz. I turned away, slouched further into my coat in an attempt to make myself invisible, and marched onwards, despite being blatantly aware that this ominous vehicle was pulling up alongside me.
What kind of person approaches a stranger in a secluded car park, late at night? There’s only one kind of person who’d do that, a madman. Probably the kind of madman who thought that a Mitsubishi Colt would make an ideal mobile corpse container. In the show room, it probably looked perfect for transporting his victim’s bodies around, but on reflection, it just doesn’t have enough space in the boot. Not without the use of a woodchipper, anyway. Maybe the salesman threw a free one in, just to sweeten the deal. I’m so screwed!
After walking for what seemed like 700 years, it became impossible to plausibly pretend not to have seen this man, especially as he had now wound his window down and was leaning out at me. If he was a stabby murderer as I suspected, this would only make him angrier. Murderers don’t like to be ignored. I took the headphones out of my ears and turned to face my inevitable doom.
“I have the money.” Exclaimed the car man.
Perhaps I’d got him figured all wrong. Perhaps he was just a lonely millionaire who needed to brag about his wealth to a random stranger.
“That’s nice.” I said, searching for an appropriate response.
“Here’s half now, half later, as agreed.” He replied, extending an arm and dropping a rather expensive suitcase on the floor. Without further invitation, I scooped up the case and tried the lock, which opened straight away. My maths has never been excellent, but I estimated that was approximately eleventy-billion pounds in there.
“Fifty now, fifty after you’ve let her go.” I recounted the money again, but I was sure there was a lot more than £50 in there. Perhaps this man was worse at maths than me.
“Let who go?” I enquired as I shut the case with an authoritative slam.
“The girl”
It took a few seconds to process, but I eventually understood what he meant. You see, Whitney Housten had recently died, and since then, I’d been listening to her albums nonstop in a desperate bid to have her back in my life. Her tragic end had left a gaping void in my life, one which could not be filled with breakfast burritos or stealing from work. However, this money will help to heal that wound and help me to move on. This stranger must have known of my pain, and decided that only the means with which to purchase a luxury Tuscan villa would help me get my life back on track. His charity is greatly appreciated.
“You’ll let her go tonight, as agreed?”
“Well, it’s all a bit sudden” I responded, still staggered by the man’s intuition and charity “But I’ll do my best.”
“You’d better, you bastard! You don’t want the cops involved, do you?”
Already taken aback, I was taken further aback by his change in tone. Then, I realised this was simply an act of tough love. He was purposefully insulting me so that I wouldn’t feel obliged to give back the money. What a dear, sweet, caring man.
“Don’t worry. I won’t go back on our arrangement” I reassured the man, and with that, he sped off into the night. Bewildered, I climbed into my own vehicle and spent the whole drive home wondering what I was going to do with the money.
This morning I called the office and told them I was leaving the organisation. I don't need their paper clips any more, I'm a man of wealth! Right now I am packing my suitcase for a round the world cruise, which I expect to be on for the next six months. I can’t believe my run of good luck! Especially so, as a woman’s body was discovered in a car park last night, which was only round the corner from where I work! That could have been me! It's certainly a sobering thought when you are so close to where someone was killed, and really puts your own good fortune in perspective. Still, you can’t let these things get you down, especially when you have an all inclusive trip to look forward to. I’ll see you all in the Autumn!
Wait. So you have my money?
ReplyDeleteAh, well you made me laugh which was well worth the 700 billions dollars... or pesos. Which ever currency you use in England.
This was hilarious.
ReplyDeleteSince you no longer need to sell all those staples on eBay, maybe you COULD actually use them to secure a bear to a cliff face. And then post a picture of it. Please?
Haha! 'Eleventy' billion.
ReplyDeleteThe mood for this, reminded of those 1970's detective series with the voice overs, like 'Kolchack'...but without the detective...or the solving of crimes...or an explanation...and a conclusion. But it did have mystery and suspense and most importantly, it was bloody hilarious!
Very Funny. Come to Australia an visit me.You can by me a new house on the Sydney Harbor with a private jetty an a yacht, and a Ferrari. While you're here you can staple a koala to a cliff.
ReplyDeleteHaha, I love this blog.
ReplyDeleteDammit. Every time. Every time I get suckered in thinking, "where is this very sincere, true story going?" And boom, I get the beat down of hilarity. How, I beg you for an explanation, HOW is a Mitsubishi Colt not an ideal mobile corpse container? Or is this just more in your campaign of sarcastic satire!?! Devil.
ReplyDeleteBy the way, what the hell is cliff facing?
@Chiz - Since the Credit Crunch, we don't use currency anymore. Everything works on a sexual favour bartering system, which means you have to queue for ages in the supermarket.
ReplyDelete@Ash - The next time I see a bear, I'll attack it with a stapler and let you know the outcome.
@Lily - Yes, there's a lot it was lacking, but who cares? I'm rich!
@Greg - I don't know, I hear there's a lot of animals that can kill you in Australia. You can keep your poison dolphins thanks!
@Stefan - Thank you very much.
@Pickleope - Cliff is facing 2 years inside and a ban, due to dangerous driving. As for the Colt, there's just not enough space in the boot for a multitude of corpses. Get a Ford Kuga instead. That's the correct choice for the serial killer who is dedicated to his craft.
Hey there. Just to let you know that Ive added a fourth dimension to my blog and guess what..... YOU ARE IN IT!!! wowzers! hope you like. Keep being brilliant. cheers.
ReplyDeleteThanks very much Bumferry. Isn't the fourth dimension time? So does that mean that your Blog can travel through time? I always knew you were special, boy.
DeleteYou are truly a brave man for first admitting your love for Whitney and then giving her up. Be strong. Never mind, you don't have to be strong now that you have money, you can just hire some muscle.
ReplyDeleteI'll just pay to have my tear ducts removed. Then, I can enter an onion peeling contest and win even more money!
DeleteHi! Please follow my blog. Thanx..
ReplyDeletehttp://mehmetaydiner.blogspot.com
Thankyou for making me laugh again!
ReplyDeleteAnd for my new favourite word Eleventy
how many is eleventy one?
+followed, you had me at soothing sounds of n-dubz.
ReplyDelete@Kikinotdee - Eleventy one is one more than eleventy, I think. Or five. I'm not good with numbers.
ReplyDelete@Crowbloke - Ahh yes, a fellow grimestep beats connoisseur, like myself. Do you perchance enjoy the melodic tones of Kinky Straddler as well? I find his music to be most shit, I mean, relaxing.
I did not see that twist coming. This is amazing, and hilarious, and very clever. Also, fun fact, my mother had a blue Mitsubishi Colt, and it's not just a bad car for disposing bodies, it's a bad car for anything. Driving, being seen in, etc.
ReplyDeleteHere's some advice: change your identity and buy your own private island. No one will EVER suspect a thing.
ReplyDelete-Barb the French Bean
You should have gone back! He'll be giving you another eleventy-billion later!
ReplyDelete@Beer - Did you actually try disposing of bodies in your mum's car? That take's real balls, my friend. Last time I tried that, my mum gave me a clip round the ear and docked my pocket money.
ReplyDelete@The Beans - Yes, now that I've admitted to a love of Whitney Housten, I probably do need to emigrate. The shame!
@DWei - Shit, too late! Still, I think that guy could do with the money right now. Might be of some comfort.
Brilliant! Just brilliant!
ReplyDeleteCrying over Whitney ... you are such a silly sod! did I just say sod? hahahahaha