i find him in a bar, he buys me a drink. he tells me everything that’s wrong with the world. he goes on through the night. stumbling, i take him home. he finally tells me about his wife, what a bitch she is. he tells me about his son, what an ass he is. he confides in me about his secretary, snickers about how lovely she is. he passes out on the couch, he drools into the cushion. i start on him with the paring knife, surprisingly they never wake up with that one. it’s only when i peel off his eyebrows that his eyes snap open. i gouge one out and both of his hands fly to his face, then fumble on my hand. i climb atop the couch, press my weight on him and begin on the scalp.