Guys, I have a major bummer to tell you about: I had to kill my grandma to get out of going to my co-worker’s BBQ. It super sucked, but I needed a good excuse to get outta this thing, and I was pretty sure she wasn’t gonna die on her own before this weekend.
Listen, I know what you’re thinking, but hold your horses there! Before you start saying, “Wow, that’s pretty extreme,” or, “That was your grandma, she loved you,” or, “That’s murder, you’re going to jail forever,” just hear me out.
First off, Trevor, the guy who’s hosting this crappy BBQ, works in H.R. and is a total dickweed. Since he’s in H.R. that means the whole stupid H.R. department is going to be at this thing, and frankly, they are all dickweeds.
Second, I am just not going to miss MSTRKRFT playing at Webster Hall this weekend. Like, I’m just not. If that means that I have to take the life of the woman with whom I spent every one of my childhood summers at her idyllic lake house, then so be it.
Lastly, my grandma was pretty old anyway, and I think she would be happy knowing that she helped me politely avoid having to spend time with that dingus Trevor and missing some phat EDM.
So, just think about those things before you judge. Also, if you see Trevor this weekend, don’t tell him about this, cool?
Oh, and before I forget, if you know of any good excuses, I need a really good one for getting out of my grandma’s funeral this weekend.