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Friday, April 4, 2003 | How To
How to Get Rid of a Body Using Ordinary Household Objects
by James MacFarlane
- O.K., we can chop him into eight or ten easy-to-manage parts using the kitchen Ginsu knives; we stuff each carryable body part into a pillowcase (dark-colored, so as to not reveal blood seeping through); tie each pillowcase to a broom or mop handle; tear and stain our clothes so we resemble hoboes, and then we can both make several trips in and out of the apartment, each time carrying with us a different body part in a pillowcase tied to a stick resting on a shoulder. What do you think? Will that work?
- How about this: we jab a hole in his gut with the business end of the bowling trophy, then we shove the vacuum into the hole and suck everything out: blood, organs, whatever comes loose. Now all we’ve got left to deal with is the skin and bones, which should be considerably lighter and less cumbersome. We can now, probably, fold him into fourths—bend at the knees, waist, and wherever the torso breaks—and squish him into the portable beer cooler. We wait until Sunday, then sneak him out with the barbecue grill and the bags of ice and the big foam hand. Everyone will assume we’re going to a tailgate party. Just be careful not to make a mess anywhere between now and then, because the vacuum will be clogged with entrails. What do you think?
- All right, maybe we can empty out the fridge and construct effigies of ourselves using mashed potatoes, carrot sticks, and that salami nobody’s gonna eat anyway. We dress the organic dummies in our clothes, smear ketchup over our chests, strategically place revolvers in the hands of the dead guy and our fake corpses. When the cops eventually discover the scene, it’ll look like we killed him in self defense, if we position everything right. Of course, we’ll have to live under assumed names in a country with no extradition treaty. But I think it will work, no?
- Fine. Maybe we could just douse the body in oven cleaner and see if that dissolves anything. Then, to hide the evidence, we melt the oven-cleaner can down and reshape it into an ashtray or paperweight or something, take the trinket, wrap it in tissue paper, mail it to my aunt in Boca Raton. Do we have any oven cleaner?
- Wait, wait … Do we have a shovel? Because then we can just bury him in the backyard. That’d be easy.
James MacFarlane works in the exciting field of advertising in New York City. In his spare time, he writes legal thrillers under the pen name "John Grisham."
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