Note: These types of strange exchanges frequently pop up in Smith exchanges. Two weeks back my mother informed me that should she and my father die, I wouldn’t receive any inheritance money until I turned 27. In this same conversation, I was asked if I would consider substitute teaching. No irony was employed in either of these statements.
Back to the head of the matter, my sister and I were discussing the famous horse’s head scene in the movie (The Godfather. For those of you who don’t know what I’m talking about – though I can’t imagine how since there have been so many homages/parodies of the scene – there is a scene in the movie where a man who has crossed the Don wakes up to find the head of his prized thoroughbred in bed next to him. I was going to include a screen grab from the film, but since a real horse’s head was used, I will submit this as a more tasteful substitute, though as always, taste is a relative thing.
Back to the sibling debate, I argued you didn’t have to kill a horse to get the desired effect of the severed, smiling end of a horse. I argued that waking up in a bed of live, angry badgers would do an equal job.
What followed was a brief discourse on the complications one would have to face to fill a bed with badgers.
“You’d have to drug the badgers, so you wouldn’t wake up the sleeping victim.”
“Where would you get the badgers from?”
Pause
“The badger store.”
“Of course. Why didn’t I think of that?”
“You’ve really got to think these things through.”
This line of questioning was concluded when we admitted employing badgers was just as unlike as serving up a horse’s head, and since it was all a movie, one shouldn’t take it too seriously.
As I was walking to the library today, however, I encountered a badger. At least I think it was a badger… I might have been a beaver with a stumpy tail, but I don’t think beavers are known for climbing heights and it was over by a grassy cliff next to a local firehouse.
Maybe badgers aren’t that difficult to get a hold of, if you know where to go. A true mobster would have the funding, resources, and connections to get something like badger bedding accomplished.
With that in mind, it simply becomes a matter of applied imagination to come up with suitable revenge. I still believe snuffing a horse to be tacky and poorly thought out. If I had the money and the twisted bent (you can guess which one I lack), I could execute much better plans where the only lethal victim would be the target’s sanity.
Here’s what I would do as a mob boss to exert my “influence” over a specific person:
First, you start out small. On a cool day, fill the target’s pool with gelatin. Throw in some banana and strawberry chunks so it becomes one big backyard Jell-O casserole. The guy will be too embarrassed to call the pool guy, so he will probably attempt to “deal” with the problem himself. The bits of fruit will clog the drain, so it won’t simply go down the tubes when it melts.
If the target owns a home, wrap the entire dwelling in cellophane. All possible exits – windows, doors, chimneys – should be blocked by plastic. Be sure to squeeze thick quantities of whip cream between the layers so that even when they cut through, a slimy mess is made.
If the target owns an apartment, buy out the neighboring apartments and blare music at all times of the night. Andrew Lloyd Webber show tunes should be blasting from every direction – up, down, left right. If the target starts to become immune, change the programming to Barry Manilow or The Captain and Tenille. There’s just something special about hearing “Copacabana” at 2 a.m. in the morning.
Switch the target’s de-caffeinated coffee with “Java Jake’s Special Hyper Bean Blend.” Switch the regular with something even stronger, like granulated jet fuel. Make insomnia his constant companion.
And then give the target something to think about while he’s up at night. Find an old school picture of the target and blow it up on as many billboards as possible. And I’m not talking any old picture; I’m thinking the worst of the worse. Everyone’s had at least one baby-slapping ugly school picture. Each person out there is thinking of one particularly horrifying snapshot. It usually became the one that was heavily featured for years on grandma’s mantle for the world to see (and then cringe). Make sure you advertise heavily along the route the man takes to work. If he tries to vary his route, adjust your postering accordingly. Don’t hesitate to use other mediums, like print, TV, or magazine – especially those you know the target to read.
Replace the lawn with artificial turf. Similarly, swap plastic flowers for the real arrangements. Every few days switch them back. The fake field should have a different logo sponsor each time (Brought to you by Rocky’s Used Cars and Hair Salon).
Make cosmetic alterations to the target’s beloved pets. I’m not advocating anything that will hurt the animals; just something that will be a striking difference. If they have a pit bull, dye him pink and paint his toenails purple. If they have a poodle, give the dog a mohawk and Marine tattoo (like Semper Fido).
Pay someone to break into the target’s car and adjust the seat and mirrors. I know this sounds simple, but it’s the little things that will drive one crazy. If this isn’t enough for you, start moving the car, slightly. Instead of level C, park in B, or just move the vehicle 100 yards to the right – just enough to keep them guessing. Make sure your car thief disengages the car’s beeping function so it won’t respond if the victim presses the “locator button.”
To drive the target additionally crazy, systematically lower the speed limit in his area. Once a week, take down the speed limit signs and replace them with a number 5 mph lower. His daily commute should steadily get slower and slower. Rent fake cruisers to line the route so that the target, and those driving around him, are compelled to follow the lower limit. This is especially effective if he is trapped behind someone who drives and additional 5 mph below the posted limit.
Give the target something to think about when he finally reaches work. Figure out where his office is and hire someone to sit in the building across from him and stare at him everyday. No matter when he looks over his shoulder he should always see someone staring at him. Equip them with video cameras so you can enjoy the paranoid highlight.
Some tricks can only be applied in certain cases. If the target has recently quit smoking (and hasn’t returned to it yet, despite your additional pressure), tempt him by having a fresh carton delivered to his residence, every hour, on the hour. The moment he breaks down and lights up, wait until he’s asleep, and then steal back all the cigarettes. Go to all the local outlets and buy up their supplies. Make it impossible for him to find his desired brand in a tri-state area. Repeat as necessary.
Apply chloroform to all of the targets towels. Every time he goes to dry himself off, he’ll knock himself out. Also, mix Nair into all of his lotion and shampoos. It’s an oldie, but goodie.
By this point, you’re entering into war, so there is no reason to back off now. Break into the target’s house on day and glue all of his furnishing to the ceiling. Blankets, coasters, the statue of Great Uncle Obadiah should all be fused to the ceiling.
Put Tang in the target’s water supply. This is especially effective if it kicks in when he’s enjoying a shower or the Jacuzzi.
At the target’s next birthday, find out where he is going to hold his party and schedule a flag burning protest in the same place. Be sure to let the local “VFW” chapters know about the event so they can stage a counter-demonstration. Chip in for bullhorns for both sides.
Pay a troupe of mimes to follow the target whenever he’s out on the streets. Make sure they make a silent spectacle of themselves wherever he goes. Also pay a member of the paparazzi to stalk the parade so that when the target finally goes nuts and assaults the mime, he’ll be on the front page underneath the headline, “Listen to the Sound of Violence.”
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This is all simple to dream up, and with the right resources, even easier to put into motion. The moral is there are a 1,000 ways to skin a cat and an equal number to spare a horse. The other lesson is that if I ever earn any money, you’d better not cross me. It’s a twisted man who will send a mime to do a horse’s job, but I’m just the man to do it.
And you’ve got that straight from the horse’s mouth, so to speak.
