dangerous lapels (excerpt)

I have a confession to make.  My name is Paxton and I am an infomercial junkie.  You know all that stuff you see advertised after 2 in the morning?  I watch those shows.  I’m one of the people who buy that junk.  Not only do I watch infomercials, I tape them as well.  I have a complete video library, from the Red Devil Grill to the Washlet.  I can’t resist.

The first time I ever killed someone it was an accident.  I was fourteen
years old, and I borrowed my aunt’s car to go to West Virginia.  That was
the second time I ever ran away from home.  By the time I got there, it was
dark.  There was a farmer walking along the side of the road, carrying a
pitchfork and wearing one of those wool caps that cover up your ears.  He
shouldn’t have been out at two in the morning, and I should have been tall enough to have a better view of the road.

I never told anybody about that, and no officers ever came knocking on my
door.  After it happened, I drove straight home and apologized for taking
the car.  I was almost relieved to be grounded for three months.  I told my
aunt I hit a deer.

There are certain things you consider to be moral lines in the sand.  Like
kissing someone of the same sex, or shooting up heroin.  Things you tell
people you never do, and would never do.  Killing is a lot like that.  The
thing we never seem to learn is, once you cross one of these lines, you’re not as different as you thought you would be. 
 

You’re still exactly the same person.

Now I’m watching a thirty-minute pitch for the Miracle Blade.  Chef Tony is
so proficient.  I love how he uses the gentle motions to reduce the tomato
to slices.  It’s almost erotic the way that he glides the knife through the
toe of the tennis shoe.  It really is a miraculous thing.

These line-crossing events can become habit-forming.  Not like smoking a
cigarette, but like checking the mail every time you get home.  Habits are a
little different from a physical dependence.  Once you get in a good routine, killing can become as natural as cooking a meal.  In fact, the two are very similar.  Both involve planning, preparation, patience, and cleanup.

This is my favorite part.  Tony cuts apples.  He fillets a fish.  He peels
an orange.  Tony cuts right through a frozen roast.  There’s a little hole
in the giant chopping board, and all the sliced pieces are pushed into this.
He must have wasted fifty dollars worth of food by now.  In Ethiopia, this
program would be considered pornographic.

When ordering a hit, there are certain things to keep in mind.  The method
can be a strong determinant of price.  After all, it’s much easier to shoot
someone in their home than to shackle them to the engine block of a car and
wait for the scalding metal to cook them alive.  But that’s not the only
thing to consider.  Do you want the body disposed of afterwards?  Do you
want the victim tortured before hand so he will spit out some kind of vital information?  Do you want some kind of a souvenir from this person, such as a wedding ring or a big toe?  All of these frills cost extra.

Now a guy is using the Miracle blade to cut windows out of drywall.  That’s
only mildly impressive, since drywall is about as solid as particle board. 
Still, it’s not something I’d subject my own kitchen knives to.

The common rookie mistake is to talk to your victims before you put them
down.  They tell you on those survival shows that if you ever find yourself
in Columbia, kidnapped for ransom from your family, you should tell your
captors as much about you as possible.  This is because it’s harder to kill someone you identify with, or even know on a personal level.

They’re displaying the number to call for ordering.  If I order the set within the next twenty minutes, I can get an extra Miracle Blade to give to
one of my family members so they can benefit from the masterful slicing it
enables.  They’re even willing to throw in the flexible paring knife, which is my free gift even if I decide to return my Miracle Blades.

Even though I already have a set, I’m tempted to order another one.  I’m
impressed by the persuasiveness of something that makes me wonder, Do I
really have enough knives?  The truth is, you can never have enough knives.

I’ll attest to the power of the Miracle Blade.  They really do cut right
through fingers and toes as if they were celery.  You still have to do
saw-like motions, but even a tongue or an ear is no match for the stainless-steel blade that never needs sharpening.  I chipped one on a spinal cord one time and sent it back.  They mailed me a brand new knife, and a handwritten apology from Chef Tony himself.
 

(c) 2003 J Baugher