Turkey Leg

A Black Friday

Frain always bragged about grilling the Thanksgiving turkey, so I let him. It’s great irony that he had a hand in his own death. Well, a leg in this case.

Thanksgiving is dreadful. What’s new?

Or maybe it’s just that I’m excited about the weekend following Thanksgiving. I’ve turned the freezer down. Or is it up? Whatever colder is, that’s what I turned it. Freeze the turkey leg.

He drinks all day Friday, celebrating his success that Thanksgiving went well. Whatever. Passes out on the sofa. I pull the turkey leg from the freezer. Solid as a hockey puck.

I’ve studied the exact spot to hit him. At the library, not on my own computer. I’m not stupid. As he snores – God, I won’t miss that! – I wind up and bang the drumstick into his spleen. Twice for good measure.Β The snoring stops. So does his pulse.

When the investigator pays me a visit on the second day, I’m eating. I offer him some of my turkey. Together, we devour the murder weapon.

T

 

30 thoughts on “Turkey Leg

      1. Haha! Feels good to be hanging out in Hitchcock’s neighborhood. Although I’m pretty sure he probably handled it better than I did. And isn’t Barbara Bel Geddes a cool name!

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  1. Well it’s been a long day, but now I’m here reading about your recent death. Such a fitting end to a Monday.

    Can’t wait until May when I get to start killing you. It’s not fair your wife gets to have all the fun.

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  2. Oh eating the murder weapon with the police officer is such a bold move! You’ve got to love such a brazen murderer, hopefully there won’t be any turkey grease on the corpse.

    Also…. Woo it’s the final week of the challenge! Which is good because my brain is some kind of mush now and I could sleep for the whole of May. πŸ˜„

    Here’s my “T” post πŸ™‚ http://nataliewestgate.com/2017/04/trapped-secret-diary-of-a-serial-killer

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