Page 41 of (My Accidental) Killer Summer

“And what if he doesn’t burn all the way?”

“Then we’re stuck with charcoal Doug. Hard pass.”

“What if we drop him in a well?”

“Do we even have a well?” she asks. “And when someone finds him later— ‘Oh hey, it’s Doug at the bottom of the well!’”

“Fine. Stage a suicide!”

Her eyes light up. “Yes! Chop off his head—he was the killer all along!”

“How’s he going to chop off his own head?”

“Someone, somewhere, probably has. We don’t know.”

“Okay, but how will police know he did it?”

“That’s for forensics to figure out.”

“Theyareforensics.”

“Fine, then he leaves a note: ‘I was sad, so I chopped off my head.’ Super convincing.”

“I honestly can’t tell which of us is more unhinged right now.”

We both sigh. I rub my temples, the stress a full-body weight now.

“Throw him off a bridge?”

“Pollute the water with Doug’s remains? Not eco-friendly.”

“Burn him alive in a tire and roll him down a hill like Face fromThe A-Team?”

She cackles. “Just roll flaming Doug down Main Street.”

We collapse into laughter again. It’s either that or cry.

“Okay, okay,” she wheezes. “What about burying him in Mrs. Jenkins’ garden? Mulch-style.”

“Sure. She’ll love her daisies blooming over Doug’s decaying crotch.”

“Feed him to crocodiles or piranhas?”

“Where exactly are we finding those in Santa Luna?”

“Distribute him in dumpsters around town?”

“A scavenger hunt for the cops. Perfect.”

“Put him in a wood chipper likeFargo?”

“Then he reallywouldbe mulch.”

We laugh again—too hard. Not even that high. Just stressed.

“Melt him with acid like Helen Mirren inRed?” I suggest. “Or was itRed 2?”

“Until we spill it and melt us?”