A Gallon to Kill For

You are not in good shape, pal.

You’ve been trolling for gasoline for your Jeep Patriot for five days without luck. You poured the last of your lawnmower gas into your tank this morning. You remember stirring some kind of oil into the lawnmower gas because that’s what Snapper ordered you to do in the owner’s manual. At first, you try not to think about what kind of mischief the oily gas is getting into in the engine. Then you realize you don’t really care as long as the Patriot starts.

If worse comes to worse — and worse is already within earshot of worse — you have a plan to beat your neighbor to death with a baseball bat, siphon the gas from his huge SUV, and steal his lawnmower gas. It’s a riding lawnmower. Yes, of course you know you could siphon his SUV gas and steal his lawnmower gas in the middle of the night without killing him. But the plan as originally envisioned just feels right. It would be both a statement and a way to get the gas you need to go on living the life you’re entitled to.

What’s the statement?

It is this: You would rather kill your neighbor with a baseball bat than ride a VIA bus.

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