I’ve been keeping a secret about my Mom for some time now. But the time has come to get it off my chest. I can’t live with this burden any longer.
It has been a few years since I started finding randomly placed shakers of salt around the house and yard. Hell, a couple of months ago I looked down in the center console of the car and there it was, the salt shaker.
A couple of months passed after I first started spotting the salt shakers before I couldn’t take it any more. i simply had to know, and so I asked about the salt.
It was then that I discovered the shocking truth: my mother is a serial killer.
She is obsessed with killing slugs. I mean, she really, really hates them. She will hunt those little slimy bastards down and laugh maniacally as she pours salt over them. The little slug screams are haunting my dreams.
Okay, I’m imagining the evil laughter and haunting screams. I’ve never actually watched her kill the slugs, nor have I heard them scream. I don’t think I could endure watching their bodies writhing in agony.
No, I just find their shriveled-up white carcasses strewn all over the yard. Death. It’s all around me. And slug families all over this yard are left home, wondering when Mommy Slug or Daddy Slug are coming home.
“Never, Bobby! The answer is never because my mother slaughtered them! She just poured desiccant all over them until they were like skinny long raisins!”
Look at the photographic evidence, taken just minutes before I posted this. I’m sure you’ll agree with me. She’s sick. She must be stopped.
My mother, known in the gastropodic community as The Destroyer of Worlds.