January 14, 2014: Pig, Sheep, and Wolves

“Pig, Sheep, and Wolves” by Simon, Paul from You’re the One

Listen to it here

(photo from 123rf.com)

(photo from 123rf.com)

SWINT smirks as he enters the room, dragging his chair to nearly the front of the stage and sitting on it.

SWINT (smiling broadly now)

Go ahead. Ask. I know you want to.

He waits, increasingly impatient.

SWINT (grimacing in annoyance)

Fine, fine. A shy bunch. I get it. So I’ll ask the question then. How would I kill a man, practically in broad daylight, and get away with it? I mean, we all wonder it don’t we? How the people around us would commit such an…ultimate act.

The smile returns, somehow even wider.

SWINT (cracking his knuckles)

Now, now. I certainly wouldn’t do that. I mean, murder someone? Me? Of course not. Nor would I confess it to a crowd. Because it would be a false confession, of course.

SWINT looks over the audience, quite pleased with himself

SWINT (excitedly)

But if I was, per se, to kill a man? In broad daylight? And get off scott free? How would I do that? Speaking purely hypothetically?

SWINT (voice slowing down to normal pace again)

Now that is a thrilling thing to ponder. Good question all of you. I like that you’re thinking a little…askew.

Ok, so if I was to do all that? I’d need the perfect victim. Someone noticed soon after going missing, but not too soon. After all, I don’t want to get caught, but what’s the point of doing this sort of thing without an audience, right?

To answer my own question, there’d be none. Art needs appreciators, yes?

SWINT stands and slides the chair toward the back of the stage. He begins to happily pace the stage, loving the command of the audience he feels.

SWINT (really using the space now)

And I’d want to choose someone with lots of enemies. For cover. Like a gang member who’s gang is warring with another for turf. Or, say, a judge who’s corrupt enough to have enemies on both sides of the law. For instance. Just an example. Remember, hypothetical, right.

And they’d have no connection to me. Truly a random act. Nothing to connect us ever. There’s nothing personal here.

Then, it’s easy. A trap. A blind alley. A car garage. An easily triggered distraction to pull attention far away. Then, garroted. I mean…theoretically. I’d prefer an icicle of course, but it has been such a warm winter so…I mean, in this hypothetical it had been so warm, of course.

 Turns to the audience and grins very widely now, nearly maniacally.  


Anyway, that’s how I’d do it. But I’d never really. Not ever. I’m an upstanding citizen.

Wanders over to the side of the stage.


Let’s listen to the radio, shall we?

Flips it on. It crackles to life, a commercial about some skin care product. Then it returns to an NPR-esque station discussing the disappearance of a federal judge last seen entering a parking structure. SWINT takes his seat, closes his eyes, and sways as if in pleased rapture as the lights lower.