The Best Laid Plans

I’ve never had any money left over after paying my bills. And now my crotchety Uncle Bert has gone and died, leaving me everything! But wouldn’t you know it – there’s one catch. On his deathbed, old Bertie whispered to me, “You’ll get everything but you have to agree to kill my ex-wife, Aunt Edwina! If you don’t keep your promise, I will know wherever I am and the consequences will be dire.”

Well, I didn’t really harbor bad feelings toward my aunt. She had always baked me cookies and handed me a twenty every now and then, ’just for fun.’ But what could I do. I reasoned that I needed the money more than I needed her. After all, what’s a broke fella to do?

I had to think this through carefully. What’s the point of being caught if I don’t get to spend the money? I knew that poison could usually be detected so that was out. If I strangled her, it would leave broken blood vessels in her eyes. If I shot her, maybe the gun could be traced to me. A knife wasn’t a bad idea but what if it didn’t finish the job or the knife blade broke or I got cuts on my hands.

I finally decided on a fire. Her little wooden house was crowded with knick knacks which would be very flammable. I knew I couldn’t use gas to ignite it because that would make it seem like it wasn’t an accident. It was getting colder so I asked old Auntie if she’d like to borrow my heating blanket which I was about to throw away since it had an electrical short. The last time I had used it, it had started smoldering and almost caught fire.

The next night, it was colder than a snowball in Hell. I slept fitfully as I waited for the news of the disastrous fire knowing I was her only family.

The fire department called to tell me about the terrible news the next morning. “It burned so hot that we can’t even find the body. She must have been completely incinerated,” they advised me.

Since there was no body to bury, I erected a nice plaque in her church in her memory. Next, I got on a plane to Argentina where I planned to spend the rest of my life, living the high life.

I have to tell you something but don’t tell anyone. Auntie Edwina was sitting next to me on the airplane. I just couldn’t bear to kill her after all those years of cookies and money slipped to her favorite nephew. She deserved to enjoy some of the money after suffering all those years with miserly Uncle Bert. But, unfortunately, we are not in Argentina, after all. The plane went down over the ocean two hours into the flight. And I swear I could hear old Bertie laughing, “I told you there would be consequences!”