Monday 28 January 2013

273: 3 2 1 Peanut Time



In America a cruel and unusual death would be unconstitutional, but this is Basingstoke so it’s not such a problem.  If one chooses a cruel and unusual death for oneself, what business is it of anybody else.

It’s more the unusual side that I find intriguing.  I’m working on the hypothesis that virtually all deaths are cruel in some way, so that isn’t something I can alter if I decide to pursue this course, and I do intend to.  That frees me to concentrate on the unusual aspect of the deed.  Here are some of the options I have considered thus far.

If I could find a small pool and buy enough custard, I thought I might drown myself in yellowy gloop.  I would have a sweet death, going into the light actually and metaphorically.  Apparently custard is a non-Newtonian liquid, which means it can’t decide if it’s liquid or solid, so I wouldn’t really sink in and drown.  I would walk on it like a desserty messiah. 

I thought I might dive like a swan from a pod on the top of the London Eye, but I haven’t the money for the tickets to travel there or to ride the wheel.  Basingstoke has no similar celebratory circular landmark.

Suicide by cop would be another unusual one, another American idea.  Person threatens cops with gun, cops challenge them to lay down their weapon, person refuses and makes as if to shoot, cops shoot person first and pop-pop-pop-pop, bloody holes appear all over their body.   I should think the Hampshire equivalent would be making a bit of a fuss outside a Happy Shopper and being poked quite hard with an extendible truncheon.

Finally I decided on peanuts.  They kill people all the time and quickly too, so no hanging about wondering will she-won’t she pull through.  And a good thick suit of clothes would make finding somewhere accessible for a jab of adrenaline or morphine or anti-peanut stuff harder to locate.  I decided to force one deep into my ear, right down in the tube so nobody could remove it until it was too late.  Maybe I’d hide in the corner of a cinema so I can have a huge, vivid last image of some gorgeous leading man like Tom Cruise or Will Smith. 

I’d be sorry for whoever has to find me but I can’t let that detract me from my countdown.  Sorry.



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