Is there any better follow up to a Friday post about the sanctity of life than a Monday post about your elaborate plans to get away with murder?

I think not.

And whose demise are we fantasizing about today?

Well, in honor of the return of the work week, it seems only fitting to share with you my scheme to off my boss.

Here’s how it’s going to it would hypothetically go down…
(allegedly)

I’ve learned recently that my boss is allergic to a certain medication. After doing a little research on the issue, it seems this allergy is potentially fatal. Of course, the fatal nature is directly related to how long he would go untreated – which makes things a little tricky.

As luck would have it, this medication is very easy to obtain. In some cases, it’s even free. Although if you’re going to get it for free, you have to be willing to get a prescription from a doctor. Prescription = paper trail = much too messy for My Fool Proof Plan.

Thank God for Mexico. You can get your hands on just about anything in Mexico. And while it’s not free, it’s not uncommon to have a small bottle of Tequila thrown in with the antibio…uh… common medication.

Once I figured out the supply and demand issue, I had to turn my attention to the biggest obstacle: the allergic reaction, if treated in time, is unlikely to kill him and more likely to really piss him off. He’s no good to me pissed off.

And then it came to me, like a beautiful epiphany. The clouds parted, angels sang, and I knew exactly how to avoid the intervention of life saving measures.

He needs to ingest the Penici- medication at night.

Thankfully, my boss suffers from sleep apnea so it is completely believable that he would stop breathing in his sleep. But more importantly, his wife has grown very accustomed to his erratic breathing and restless sleep. It is highly unlikely she would wake up to the sounds of him gasping for air as his throat was swelling shut!

Especially… and here is the real genius of the plan… if he was sleeping in the next room.

Ah, you see, there are many nights when the boss and his wife sleep in separate bedrooms. If one of them is sick, or if one has trouble sleeping for some reason, they will kiss good night and go off to separate bedrooms to as to ensure that at least one of them gets a good night’s sleep. (oh this is brilliant! brilliant!)

And there are numerous ways to ensure that the boss is sleeping in the guest bedroom on The Night When It All Goes Would Hypothetically Go Down. (allegedly) The easiest would be to pet his dog and hug him or something, since he refuses to acknowledge that he is allergic to his own dog but invariably stuffs up with too much exposure to dog hair.

Of course, I could also email his wife some photoshopped pictures of him naked and tell her he sent them too me. Bet that’d get him in the overflow bed pretty quickly too.

Oh! Yes! Yes that is it EXACTLY! It’s all come together PERFECTLY now…

Adam and his wife get in a little squabble about his perceived bad husbandry. To console himself and ease his stress, he consumes a double bacon cheeseburger, large milkshake, fries with mayo, and two cans of Diet Coke…. all laced with *ahem* an extra ingredient. After comforting himself with food (that his friend so generously offered to bring over to him), he sulks off to bed in the spare room…

The attack is long and agonizing, and he wonders why no one is coming to help. His last thought is a vague memory of a conversation he had recently had with an employee about….

And do you know who they’ll investigate??

NOT the kind friend who consoled him and stood by him when his wife clearly overreacted. Oh no.

The PISSED OFF spouse who was sleeping just FEET away and strangely DIDN’T HEAR A THING!

Ah yes, it’s genius. Masterful even. Possibly tops the Nicotine In The Contacts Plan.

Really, if there is an award for such a thing – I should win it. Don’t you think?

I mean, you know, allegedly.

(psst… call me a fucking pig… bastard.)

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