AcmeShorts

Man. Oh, man, were my parents gonna be pissed! Oh, geez! What was I gonna do? How could I cover up this one? It was a huge huge huge boo-boo! There were still angry about the last accident! Mrs. Williams, my babysitter for the past few months, lay stabbed – 72 times – and bleeding on the living room floor. Bad news. I was in serious trouble. This carpet was installed just last week by the Empire guy. You know Empire, right? “800-588-2300. Empiiiiiiiiiiiiire.” That’s kind of a cool commercial, the way the guy lifts up all the furniture and just throws the carpet down and then there’s carpet in a room that didn’t used to have any carpet. When the installers came, neither of ‘em looked like the guy in the commercial. I was a little disappointed. But I digress. Maybe there was some stain remover stuff that came with the carpet? Yeah! That was it! I looked all over the house. Nothing. Nothing in the dining room, nothing under the stairs – except the dog, who was decomposing a little – and nothing under the bathroom or kitchen sinks….Oh, man! What was I gonna do? Wait! The laundry room! Zipping in there lickety split, I scrounged above the washing machine, combing the shelves…and there it was! A full can of stain remover! I grabbed it and went back out to the living room. Just then I heard the front door open. Oh, man! Mom and Dad were home! What was I gonna do? WHAT WAS I GONNA DO??? I ducked into the dining room and hid under the table. “Timmy?” I heard my Dad. “Timmy? We’re home son! OH MY GOD!!!!” And then my mother, “What is it, Frank? OH, MERCIFUL FATE!!!” I looked at the can of stain remover in my hand and summoned up my courage. With all my might I came out from under the dining room table, burst into the living room and lunged at my dad. “It was an accident, god damn you! An accident!” I swung at him with the can and hit him in the temple, killing him instantly. My mother screamed, “Dear sweet Lord, Timmy, what have you done!!!!” “Die, insolent devil bitch!” I screamed. I pulled the knife out of Mrs. Williams’ back and with every ounce of strength in my 12-year-old body, I went for my Mom’s throat, slicing it wide open. She screamed and began choking on her own blood as she hit the floor. “Damn you all!” I yelled. “Damn you all to Hell! It was just an accident! An accident!” I picked up the stain remover and did a Whip-It and thought about the Empire man.