I'm a Murderer

I took my first stab (pun entirely intended) at killing a crab just now. I'd wandered into the kitchen where my aunt was preparing dinner, and she had two crabs crawling around in the sink. Well, technically only one, since she'd killed the other already. She told my cousin to do it, since he was the one who'd wanted crabs for dinner, but he just looked at the creature and didn't seem to want to do it. So I volunteered.

I was told to use a chopstick and force it in through the poor little thing's mouth, in essence impaling it on the stick. My aunt held the crab down, which was facilitated by it being trussed up in knots already, and gave me the okay to go ahead. I tried a couple times but failed, I thought it would just go in smoothly, but obviously you had to use steady strength instead of little knocks on the end of the stick. Well, if someone tried to jam a huge-ass stick in my mouth I wouldn't be in a hurry to cooperate, if you know what I mean. In my opinion, there should be chopsticks which are sharpened on the ends just for this purpose.

Finally I succeeded, and we all watched the little guy thrash around in his death throes. His legs flailed around wildly, and he shat himself. Feeling sorry for him, I twisted the chopstick around more so he'd go quicker, but that didn't seem to do much. After a minute, he was still moving, which was pretty amazing to me. If someone impaled me on the end of a stick I think I'd just go, "Ah, fuck it" and die right away. Maybe they just don't know better, or their desire to live is just so insanely strong.

I went to check my email, and when I returned, he was dead.

Such is life. One minute you're happily tied up in a bucket (well, maybe "happily" isn't exactly the right word), the next you're impaled on a chopstick. Now that's an awesome metaphor.

By the way, he was delicious.