You enter through the doorway, exhausted and hungry. You drop your bag almost a feet away from the sofa. God bless that laptop.
You move to the kitchen, only to face a fridge staring at you with illuminated empty eyes. You grab the only thing that is within reaching distance. A Tang sachet. You painstakingly make yourself a refreshing looking ‘un’chilled glass of Tang.
You move back to the hall with your sumptuous meal. It is not until you have dumped yourself onto the sofa that you reach out and switch on the lights. A figure is smiling at you, and you are unsure whether it is a greeting or just that he finds your pitiable state hilarious. It takes your mind a while to register that it is an intruder, and infinitely longer to realize that you should do something about it. But you decide to leave the hard part to him, and he’s already taken cue.
You: Why what?
Intruder: Why have you yet not returned my money?
And then it comes crashing down. He’s the guy who lives down the street. And he has had a reputation of being a psychopath.
You: I was about to return it to you on the way back home. But then my car ran out of gas.
What a lame argument!
Intruder(who has every right to intrude): Why did you run out of gas?
A confused you: I had driven to the casino across town last night.
Bang on! You couldn’t possibly be more innovative.
Intruder: Oh! And why did you drive to the casino?
You: Why did I drive to the casino? Or why did I drive to the casino?
And that’s exactly how you annoy an intruder who’s here to abduct you.
You: They had Happy Hours last night, that time of the week when you win twice as much and lose twice as much too.
Boy, you just got more innovative!
Intruder: Why do they have Happy Hours?
You now begin to figure out why he has a reputation for being a psychopath.
You: They are making good money. They want to make even better.
You’ve pressed 9 on your cellphone…..
A frustrated you: Because things are getting expensive, man!
You: Because policies aren’t keeping inflation in check.
You are amazed by your intellectual self!
You press the dial button.
Agitated you: Because the policy makers were drunk, man.
And your fist comes out of nowhere to meet his jaw, halfway between his ‘Why’.
You on the phone: Help, I’m being mentally harassed.
Voice over the phone: Help is on the way.
Why-man has dropped unconscious. You splash the glass of Tang on his face, soaking the sofa in the process.
You lift him and drag him behind your sofa.
The police break in through your open door.
It isn’t until they escort you almost to the police vehicle that one of them notices a figure behind the sofa.
The handcuffs clink behind your back and on your way back to the police station you have thoughts.
“Was it really because the policy makers were drunk that you did not return his money?”
You are now ‘escorted’ to an interrogation room.
Interrogator: Why did you punch the life out of the chap back at your home?
The interrogator should thank his stars that your hands are safely bound behind your back.
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What do you think are your whereabouts now?
And the psychopath’s?
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