Too Tall Tony

A murder yields unexpected results.

“Charlene, put that down.”

“I don’t think so, Tony”, Charlene said to the seated Too-Tall Tony Demata as she came towards him in her apartment wielding an axe . “I’m sick and tired of you two-timing me.”

“Whatya you mean?”

“Don’t get cute, Tony. I saw you eyeing those girls at the club.”

“What? No baby, it ain’t nothing like that.”

“Sure it ain’t”, and with that she swung the axe in a wide arc and Too-Tall was down-sized by a few inches. The headless corpse fell side-ways and when Charlene opened her eyes she felt rather proud of herself.

(That’ll teach you, you bum).

She had made sure the neighbors didn’t hear him come in (“some them snitchin to the cops, Tony”), buying the tarp and rope (“going on a trip up state and ain’t got no room in the trunk”), and buying the axe across town (“yeah, I’m choppin woods- seen gas bills, lately?). Now all she had to do was wrap him up, drag him down the back way to her car, take him to the pier and dump him (and two cinder blocks) into the water.

She had cleaned up the mess and placed the wrapped body in the coat closet when she realized she hadn’t found the head yet. Her were eyes closed and she didn’t see where it had flown. In a panic now, she tore up her living room looking for it when she heard a knock on the door.

“Who’s there?”

“Police, open up.”

(What? Oh my God!)

She opened the door and said, “How can I help you, Officers?”

“We’re looking for Tony Demata.”

“Sorry, haven’t seen him.”

“We think you have”, and the officer pointed to the skull going around stuck to one of the blades of the ceiling fan.