Banterist

From New York, original humor writing & commentary by Brian Sack. Subject to all the flexible quality standards of internet self-publishing.

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What My Wife Has Learned From Watching The Forensic Files

My wife has watched Forensic Files religiously ever since our Tivo discovered it for her. Tivo studied her viewing patterns, as Tivo does, and after noticing that she kept coming back to HBO’s Autopsy series, Tivo correctly assumed she would like to learn more about murder methods and body disposal techniques.
Now, thanks to Forensic Files, my wife has a solid understanding of all the dos and don’ts of dispatching your spouse. The odds of her killing me and getting away with it are significantly higher now than they were before Tivo thought she needed to know such things. I was much better off when all she watched was Curb Your Enthusiasm and Klan, a Polish soap opera.
Taking into consideration her vast knowledge of forensic techniques and past criminal cases, I have undertaken to evaluate methods she may or may not employ to dispatch me were she to be enraged by my not cleaning the stove.
SCENARIO
I am in the kitchen enjoying a delicious, unpronounceable Polish wafer cookie; a gift from my mother-in-law. I am facing east. My wife enters from the west end of the kitchen. She notices I have not cleaned the stove as she had asked early that morning. Enraged at this, my wife decides to kill me.
HER OPTIONS
BLUDGEONING: This certainly seems like one of the most logical ways for my wife to murder me in the kitchen in a moment of rage. The kitchen is filled with blunt and potentially lethal instruments, like a juicer or rolling pin.
However, my wife is now well aware that bludgeoning is fairly messy and often leaves a variety of telltale signs that a murder has been committed, no matter how good she is at disposing of my body.
Thanks to Forensic Files, my wife would be concerned about blood spatter patterns that I might leave on the new cabinetry or artistically painted wall. Besides the fact that my blood spatter would tarnish the newly-remodeled kitchen, it would also indicate angle of attack as well as velocity of impact. Investigators would be able to determine the height and strength of the attacker, which of course would be her.
In addition, she may unwittingly leave fingerprints on the blunt instrument, as well as skin and bone fragments from my head. She knows full well that blood, skin and bone fragments would turn a missing-persons case into a homicide investigation, and she wouldn’t want that.
Therefore, I do not believe my wife would bludgeon me in the kitchen, or anywhere else for that matter, no matter how dirty the stove.
GUNSHOT: I would be very surprised to be shot by my wife for two reasons. One, she’s my wife and she usually likes me. Two, she watches Forensic Files and knows better.
A gunshot would possibly alert my English neighbors, the new couple down the hall, and possibly the overly-inquisitive doorman. In addition, I live across the street from a trendy 24-hour diner which could provide a slew of pretentious eye-witnesses; we haven’t had any window covering since I removed the $3.49 Bed, Bath & Beyond paper shade. Price does not include tax.
A gunshot is likely to produce massive amounts of blood which she knows can be easily detected by any crime scene specialist using Luminol, no matter how much she cleans the kitchen floor.
Certainly there would be a great deal of irony in my wife shooting me for not cleaning the stove and making a bloody mess in the process. I would be sorry to miss that irony, as I tend to enjoy it.
Regardless, I do not think my wife would shoot me in the kitchen.
STABBING: Much like the gunshot, this is probably not a good way for her to kill me in the kitchen. Though stabbing is far quieter and would not alert my English neighbors, the guys down the hall or the overly-inquisitive doorman, it still has the potential to leave plenty of blood. Again, blood traces are easily identifiable when you apply Luminol and shine a black light on them. Part of the reason criminals get caught all the time is that they don’t realize that there’s a whole world not visible to the naked eye. My wife realizes this because she was schooled in Europe and watches Forensic Files.
Blood aside, there are angle-of-attack and strength issues that could be used to pinpoint her as the killer, which she would be.
Therefore, I have to say I would not expect my wife to attack me with cutlery.
SMOTHERING: Smothering does away with the blood problems, but thanks to Forensic Files my wife knows it’s not always the best solution for killing me. She’s well aware that smothering me with a trash bag could leave my facial impressions and her handprints on the bag – very incriminating and something that could be used against her in a court of law.
This is unfortunate in some ways, because every transaction in New York results in the acquisition of another plastic bag. Many bags wind up wasted, sadly never used for trash or smothering your husband for not cleaning the stove.
There is also the matter of a physical imbalance that would be hard to overcome: I am 6′ 3″ and she is very not. I could put up some resistance.
I don’t imagine she’ll be smothering me anytime soon, no matter how dirty the stove I forgot to clean.
POISONING: Here, I start to get worried. Because of her scholarship under her murder mentor, Forensic Files, she’s well aware that poisoning can be quiet, clean and often undetectable under the right circumstances. She’s also quite aware that some poisons can be purchased over the counter.
Certainly, there are problems associated with her poisoning me. For starters it’s not instant. She’d have to administer the poison over time; perhaps in my mother-in-law’s delicious, unpronounceable Polish wafer cookies. This requires a lot of pre-meditation on her part.
With her Associate’s degree in murder from Forensic Files, she knows that if she were to poison me with Thallium there would not be any obvious signs of a homicide. The only inconvenience to her would be my incessant bitching about cramps, nausea, burning sensation, diarrhea, headache and blurred vision. This could last days, weeks or longer depending on the dosage she was administering to me via cookie.
Eventually I’d be hospitalized and die, putting her on the perfect-crime track as it might look as though I was claimed naturally, and not the victim of foul play. If her dosage was correct it might even evade an autopsy, though not if HBO Doctor Michael Baden was on the scene. He’s real good.
One of the downsides, however, is that I watched the same episode of Forensic Files. I’m confident that if I started collapsing and soiling myself every time I ate her mom’s delicious, unpronounceable Polish wafer cookie, I’d probably catch on.
Nevertheless, this would seem to be her best option the next time I fail to clean the stove in a timely manner. Assuming she wants to kill me.
CONCLUSION
My wife has a vast knowledge of murder and mayhem thanks to the tutelage provided by Forensic Files. She is exceedingly bright, and I believe that she would employ that knowledge perfectly, so as not to make the mistakes others had made.
That said, I would be surprised if she killed me, because just this morning she said I was very nice.
Overall, the best course of action would be to face east when in the kitchen and clean the stove when she tells me to.

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