June 7th, 2024 / µ

Listen to the story read aloud here.

Herbert was not a pleasant man nor a sympathetic man. He wasn’t funny either. His only amusing trait was his grotesque appearance, and only because this appearance, though hideous, was so monstrous that it was ludicrous, with hips almost twice as broad as his shoulders on a body less muscular than that of a scarecrow, making his excessive long legs and arms seem even more ridiculous during his frequent anger fits when they would look like propellers spinning out of control.

Herbert never smiled; he only smirked, and when so, his face lit up with an almost diabolic glare, his closely set eyes shining with either hatred or disgust. His lips always remained just a thin line on a face with a jaw so huge that it looked like a fish bowl.

All of the above would have been of little or no consequence, though, if Herbert hadn’t been a very cruel man.

However, Herbert did not perceive himself as a cruel man; he saw himself as an agreeable, attractive, and tolerant man with a wonderful sense of humor. Herbert also believed that his mere existence warranted respect – after all, he was a very important man.

But most importantly, Herbert was a man who believed that anyone who did not accept his self-perception was his enemy, and that he had the right to kill his enemies. And when Herbert killed, he never felt guilt or remorse. He felt justified and vindicated.

So, not only was Herbert a monstrous-looking man, he was a monster.

“I am sorry,” Emma said, turning around. “Did I just cut in front of you?” She noticed she had accidentally cut in front of the smelly old man in the line at the checkout counter.

“Yes,” Herbert said, feeling rage burning inside his chest. “Never mind.”

“Oh, gee, thanks.”

“Hmm,” he said, looking at her, suppressing his anger.

Yuk, what a nasty man, Emma thought to herself. And the smell… Well, at least he hadn’t freaked out. He looked like the type who could do that. She thought nothing more of it, paid for her groceries, did her best to ignore the smell, and left.

What Emma didn’t realize was that accidentally cutting in front of this ugly man in the supermarket would change her life forever because Herbert was a very cruel man.

Driving home, Herbert felt that familiar rage burn inside him. Not only did he have to put up with insults at work and go home to an empty house. Was he also to put up with humiliation in a supermarket?

In such situations, Herbert saw himself as a hunter stalking the evildoer that had to be eradicated so that his life could make sense again and he could feel safe. That’s why Herbert had walked closely behind the evil woman when leaving the supermarket and snatched her wallet, which was evidence against this evildoer. Herbert’s friend Bernard always told him to secure as much evidence as possible. And Herbert always tried his best to do as Bernard told him.

At home, Herbert put all the contents of the woman’s wallet on the dining table. It seemed to be an expensive wallet – Louis Vuitton, whoever the hell that was – and credit cards, too. Hence, she had money, probably more than Herbert, which was wrong because she was a woman and evil. Then there were photos, no nudes, and here it was, a driver’s license and social security card. And business cards - what was a digital designer? It was probably a money laundering scheme. Herbert knew that all evil women were criminals!

Herbert tapped the address into the computer he had gotten for free, and there she was, only one person registered at the address, which was close by, too.

This evil woman had humiliated him on purpose; Herbert was sure of that. She was the type who loved showing disrespect towards public servants, and then, to mock him some more, she had let him walk close enough so he could, with no trouble, grab her wallet just so that she could show off her wealth and business cards!

Herbert was fuming with rage by now. Everything was humiliation! This situation, these business cards, his lousy job at the DMV!

Herbert hadn’t always worked at the DMV. No, he had been a highly respected case worker at social services. Herbert hated that he had been deprived of his position despite 27 years on the job. He had enjoyed every day. No one had answered back at him. No one had cut in line. No one had shoved their business cards in his face!

He had been good at what he did. And for that, they had asked him to leave so there wouldn’t be any fuzz. And then his wife died. Well, first, she left him, and then she died.

Herbert hated women. Women had destroyed his life with their accusations! Why was he to blame for a welfare client committing suicide? Was it wrong to protect the state? To ensure these maggots did not get more than they were entitled to? Was it wrong to investigate depraved nobodies to prove they were committing fraud?

No, he had been right to keep a close watch on those lazy failures living off the state. And he still had all of it, his little library. So whenever a day was too long or humiliating, he would find and watch one of those recordings. He preferred the ones where the maggots were sleeping or having sex or recordings where he could watch little kids sleep. Herbert saw himself as a bit of a collector of evidence against the human garbage he used to preside over.

But, his days of presiding over the human race were in the past. Now, he had to sit at the DMV and talk to the maggots and have criminal sluts with business cards cut in line in front of him at the supermarket! It made him almost physically ill to think of that woman. The smell! No, the stench of her perfume. He could still feel it in his nostrils, the degenerate odor of a slut!

Herbert defrosted his frozen dinner in the microwave. He ate slowly, feeling that old hatred towards the world warm him up, and he longed for days gone by. And he longed for his best friend, Bernard.

Herbert and Bernard met each other decades ago at social services, working towards the same goals, feeling the same disgust towards the vermin they had to talk to daily. Bernard had been asked to leave, too. It was an outrage. He had been an outstanding case worker, always getting the job done. But that level of loyalty and commitment was not appreciated anymore.

Bernard had had such a fantastic sense of humor, too; at social services back in the day, he would say the funniest things when they had their very important meetings with colleagues and the young police officers. They had all laughed and enjoyed themselves at social services, except that bitch who made all the fuzz. But no need to think about her; she was dead now.

Herbert picked up his phone and tapped Bernard’s number. He would know what to do, especially now that Herbert had secured the most vital evidence – who the criminal woman with the business cards was. Bernard would know how to proceed with such an investigation.

“It’s me. It happened again!” Herbert moaned when Bernard picked up the phone. “I was humiliated! I have evidence of who she is!”

“I will be right over,” Bernard said and slammed the phone.

“One more?” Bernard asked when they were both seated at the dining table with all of the contents of the stolen wallet laid out in front of them

“One more,” Herbert whimpered. “She showed me no respect. She cut in line in front of me at the supermarket! I want her to die!”

“Of course you do; I hear you, Herbert, and I understand your anger. These delinquents are everywhere, harassing very important public servants like us whenever they get the chance. The world has become a place where women think they can treat very important men like us disrespectfully and just walk away,” Bernard said, his big, fleshy face turning sizzling red with anger. “No one should have to put up with a woman who does not show proper respect to her superiors. It is sickening,” he continued, hammering his tiny but fat fist hard down upon the dining table, from which his huge gut necessitated that he kept a distance.

“Sickening,” Herbert heard himself repeat.

“I will inform our esteemed friends and former colleagues at the precinct and social services – no time to waste; we need to begin an investigation and set up surveillance before this woman finds out where you live and kills you,” Bernard said, his facial color almost purple by now, and his colossal gut vibrating like soft bread dough.

“But I want her dead,” Herbert whined.

“Of course you do, and she will die, but first we have to surveil and investigate her, profile her, and find out what mental illnesses she suffers from that makes her a criminal; our very esteemed former colleague from social services and his brilliant daughter might want to use this criminal woman in their groundbreaking research. We also have to make note of her valuables so you can get the compensation you are entitled to –“

“I want money… and maybe some new furniture and a new computer,” Herbert said, his mood lightening up at the thought of the money and new belongings he was entitled to because he was a very important public servant and that woman was a dangerous criminal out to kill him!

“Of course – but we have to go through the proper procedure, you know that, in order to prove everything. Then you can get what you want, and then she can die.”

“I know,” Herbert said. Like so many times before, when planning these things and women’s deaths, Herbert regressed to his 5-year-old self and voice, putting his thumb in his mouth, then realizing it was there and removing it again before Bernard noticed. After all, very important public servants did not suck their thumbs!

“I will get the team ready,” Bernard said, ignoring the thumb, standing up, almost tipping over the table, big drops of sweat dripping from his forehead. “The only issue I can see is that my wife may not be 100% in on this investigation – her vital services are required elsewhere. They are knee-deep in work at the kindergarten - sick leaves, stress leaves, people just can’t handle the pressure anymore; that and budget cuts. So she might not be as available as usual.”

“But who will bake the cakes then?” Herbert whined.

“We might have to buy some from time to time,” Bernard said, lowering his big fat head in utter frustration, eyes and fists on the table. “This is just the way things are these days. We will get back to that when the team is assembled; maybe someone else can be in charge of bringing the cake. But first things first, I will contact everyone, including our guys at the precinct, to get the technical equipment-“

“I don’t want her surveilled. I want her dead!” Herbert screamed.

“Of course you do, Herbert. What happened to you at the supermarket is an outrage. You are a very important and highly respected public servant who serves the Danish state and puts his life on the line daily, like the rest of us, in the fight against terrorism, fraud, and single women. We are very essential men who have given our lives to this nation. We get up in the morning to serve the Danish state. It is only natural that you want justice, Herbert. And justice you shall have. But we must follow the procedure, as we always do – Surveillance, investigation, profiling, okay?”

“Okay,” Herbert said in the voice of a 5-year-old who had just gotten what he wanted. And that was because Herbert had just gotten what he wanted. He smirked, his demonic eyes beaming with hate and satisfaction because, as so often before, Herbert would be the center of attention and empathy, be respected as a very important man, and, most importantly, get to see an evil woman die.

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