“And we ask him to hop up on the table and lie down.” – Prison warden on the procedure for administering a lethal injection.
Hop? I’ll tell you right now, if they’re about to jab a needle in me and kill me there will be no hopping. They can fucking carry me.
For my last meal I’ll have a big plate of steamed opium.
And a Reece’s Peanut Butter Cup. Those are good.
What if you were deathly allergic to nuts and for a last meal you asked for a box of Reece’s Peanut Butter Cups, and you ate them and swelled up and turned purple and died from a combination of asphyxiation and anaphylactic shock whilst soiling your stripy prison pants. That’d show them.
They should make the death penalty being shot into space. I bet a lot more people would be interested. Far fewer appeals.
Really the only point in life is die in an interesting way. Just think, your bones would float in space for eons until they got sucked in by some distant gravity and burned up streaking across an alien sky while some little green kid made a wish for a new scooter and for mommy to not hit so much after she has her medicine.
I could live happily knowing I died like that.
Hop? I’ll tell you right now, if they’re about to jab a needle in me and kill me there will be no hopping. They can fucking carry me.
For my last meal I’ll have a big plate of steamed opium.
And a Reece’s Peanut Butter Cup. Those are good.
What if you were deathly allergic to nuts and for a last meal you asked for a box of Reece’s Peanut Butter Cups, and you ate them and swelled up and turned purple and died from a combination of asphyxiation and anaphylactic shock whilst soiling your stripy prison pants. That’d show them.
They should make the death penalty being shot into space. I bet a lot more people would be interested. Far fewer appeals.
Really the only point in life is die in an interesting way. Just think, your bones would float in space for eons until they got sucked in by some distant gravity and burned up streaking across an alien sky while some little green kid made a wish for a new scooter and for mommy to not hit so much after she has her medicine.
I could live happily knowing I died like that.
1 comment:
This got me thinking, so I went and had a look. From the Florida Department of Corrections' Death Row Fact Sheet:
"Prior to execution, an inmate may request a last meal. To avoid extravagance, the food to prepare the last meal must cost no more than $40 and must be purchased locally."
That was interesting, but the Guinness Book of Records/Ripley's Believe It or Not amazin' facts page struck me as a bit bad taste.
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