No one in this neighborhood has ever appreciated your love and mastery of fire. Of all the thirteen-year-olds in your school district, you’ve set fire to more stuff than anybody, and you’ve done it efficiently, with maximum spectacle and minimal collateral damage. But they’ve only repaid you with juvenile court appearances, school expulsions, and parental disdain.
Until today.
“Benny,” the coucilwoman will say. “There’s a pedophile who just moved to town and the police say he’s got rights. Go torch his house.”
You’ll have trouble hiding your excitement at the thought of burning down a whole house, but you’ll manage to keep a straight face and say, “What’s my end?”
The councilwoman will promise full reinstatement in a school of your choosing within the three districts where she has influence.
Don’t bend just yet.
“What?” she’ll ask. “What’ll it take?”
Tell her, “I wanna burn down Nathan Hale’s house.”
There’s an old landmark in your town where supposedly Nathan Hale slept once, and now it’s the closest thing to a tourist attraction your town has.
“Turn a blind eye and your pedo gets the torch.”
The councilwoman will take a breath, trying to weigh whether she can sell this to the rest of the seats. Then she’ll nod real fast, like she’s trying to convince herself before she has a chance to think it through.
“Deal,” she’ll say.
Shake on it, then ask her for seventeen dollars to fill up your kerosene can. Tonight you’ll burn down the pedophile’s house. By the way, he isn’t really a pedophile. He had sex with a fifteen-year-old when he was seventeen and in your state that puts him on the sex offender roster.
Happy Be The Pyromaniac Everyone’s Looking To All Of A Sudden Day!
