Seven Horrible, Gristly Deaths

by geoffrey m miller

            The judge lowered her half-rimmed glasses and peered over them at her newest defendant.  She leaned forward with a puzzled look and squinted, then double-checked the name on the docket.

            "Who is this woman?", she asked, turning to the bailiff.

            "That's the defendant, your honor:  Mrs. Gertrude Henkelgruber."

            "YOU?", she asked in disbelief.

            The defendant nodded a timid reply.  It suited her.  Mrs. Henkelgruber exuded timidity.  Her shrinking posture and skittish movements gave her the look of a tiny, helpless woodland creature.

            "Mrs. Henkelgruber, according to my paperwork, you are here because you've been charged with attempted murder, assault with a deadly weapon and making terroristic threats.  Is this possible?"

            This time, the timid nod was accompanied by a timid, "Yes, Ma'am."

            "Is the plaintiff here?"

            "Yes, your honor.", answered the bailiff, directing her gaze to a beefy gentleman sitting at the prosecutor's table.  The gentleman owned a delicatessen, but looked like he could have been a Mafia hit-man:  6'-1", 220 pounds, stocky and muscular.  His left elbow was in a sling.  Dark green, blue and amber bruises covered his face.  He waved his good arm toward the judge and tried his best to look like a victim.  She motioned to the District Attorney to the bench.

            "Your Honor", he began, "The police report indicates that the victim, Mr. Bruno, was waiting on Mrs. Henkelgruber at his place of business when, for no apparent reason, she attacked him.

            "With what?", asked the judge, eyeing the victim's injuries, "a baseball bat?"

            "No, your honor, with a roll of cappacola salami."

            "And don't forget about what she did to my phone!", called Mr. Bruno from across the room.

            "Oh, yes", the DA added, "It is also alleged that before striking Mr. Bruno with the salami, she grabbed a cellphone out of his hands and buried it in a bowl of roasted red peppers."

            The judge steepled her fingers and rested them thoughtfully against her chin. 

            "Mrs. Henkelgruber, I must admit that I find this all a little hard to believe.  Did you really attack this man?"  The defendant's reply was hushed and hesitant.

            "Well, I uh... I uh, didn't think I was doing anything, but... but I suppose... that is... I guess I did."

            The judge looked puzzled and demanded a clearer explanation.

            "I had purchased some rolls and half a pound of muenster cheese", the woman began softly, "And I was paying for them when Mr. Bruno's cell phone rang.  Instead of giving me my change so I could leave, he made me stand there and wait while he went on and on and ON;  yapping with someone about the price of his new freezer, WHILE I'M STUCK STANDING THERE!"

            In that short time, the meek Mrs. Henkelgruber had been transformed into a fiery-eyed, bare-teethed screaming maniac.  She paused, looking as if she had startled herself, then continued quietly again.

            "Well, then I imagined myself grabbing his phone and beating him with the meat roll, just like all the other times."

            "Other times?", asked the judge.

            "Uh, yes Ma'am", answered the defendant.  "The first time I remember it happening was at my niece's wedding.  Just as they were about to exchange vows, a cell phone rang and a gentleman sitting across the aisle actually answered it and started talking.  The next thing that went through my mind was going over there with a couple of big, fat hymnals and bashing his head between them, over and over again until he fell over dead, then throwing his phone up into the balcony."

            Her actions-- so appallingly violent, yet described so meekly-- chilled the group gathered at the bench.  The judge sat back, stunned.

            "Mrs. Henkelgruber, are you telling us that Mr. Bruno isn't the first person you've assaulted in this way?"

            "No your honor.  He's the first.  All the others... I just imagined doing things to them... in my head.  People who are inconsiderate with their cell phones are my only real...   oh, what's the word?"

            "Pet peeve?", offered the bailiff.

            "Yes, that's it-- my pet peeve.  They really get on my nerves, but I would never actually say anything to anybody.  I'm just not the type to do that.  Instead, I keep quiet, use my imagination, and pretend to do all the bad things I'd really LIKE to do"

            "It was like that with the man at the deli.", the woman continued, with a gesture to the plaintiff.  "I was picturing myself hitting him with the salami, and before I realized it,  I really was.  All things considered, he was lucky."

            "Lucky!", cried Mr. Bruno.  "You call this LUCKY?  You nearly killed me with that thing!"

            "I meant lucky compared to some of the things I've imagined doing to other people.  Like the time I visited the Grand Canyon.  I was standing on an overlook at sunset.  It was quiet and beautiful, until the woman standing next to me took a call and kept yammering away at the top of her lungs.  I was going to say something, but I couldn't work up the nerve.  Instead, I imagined throwing her phone over the edge and sending her after it-- then watching her dead body bounce from boulder to boulder."

            "Then there was the guy at the symphony concert", she continued calmly, "the lady in the coffee shop, the fellow in the library, the kid on the bus and the people at the funeral home.  All of them died horrible, agonizing, gristly deaths-- in my head, at least."

            The judge leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes to think.  From a legal standpoint, it was a clear-cut case.  The mild-mannered Mrs. Henkelgruber was clearly guilty of some kind of assault.

            On a personal level, though, the judge had to admit that she had had the same vicious thoughts when confronted by thoughtless, self-absorbed cellphoners.

            After a long while, the judge stirred.

            "Mr. Bruno, regarding the charge of making terroristic threats, what exactly did Mrs. Henkelgruber say to you that was threatening?"

            "I never heard her say anything.  I was out cold after the first swing of the salami."

            "If you never heard the alleged threats, it is therefore impossible for you to have been threatened.  Mister District Attorney, is cappacola salami generally considered a deadly weapon?"

            "Well, your honor.  It is a blunt instrument... sort of.", he replied weakly.

            "I disagree.  If there's no deadly weapon, there can be no assault with a deadly weapon.

            "Mrs. Henkelgruber, I sympathize with you completely.  However, since Mr. Bruno has obviously been harmed, I have no choice but to find you guilty of disturbing the peace, which is a misdemeanor.  I sentence you to compensate Mr. Bruno for the loss of his phone and for the bowl of roasted red peppers.  In addition, you will serve twenty-five hundred hours of community service.  That ought to give you enough time to design and produce 'No Cellphones' signs and to post them at every church, synagogue, library, park, elevator, restaurant, and scenic overlook in the city."

            "Bailiff, call the next case."