I Will Pay You

I will pay you to drive to his town. I will pay you to drive to his town and go to a grocery store and buy all the things I've put on this list. I will give you money for all the things on this list and tell you which aisle these things are in, so you won't get frustrated and stop shopping and have moral compunctions or something in the cognitive fuzzy areas between looking for items. I will keep you streamlined and hard for this. I will pay you to take all these things and go to his house. Don't forget to park several blocks away. You will need to be in good physical shape to run fast afterwards, so make sure you've been working out. I will pay you to take these things to his house and then you must follow the script exactly. You know what I want you to do and how I want you to do it. To the letter. You might feel a sudden urge to edit or feel you can take artistic liberties with the script, but if you're that kind of frustrated little Fellini, we can just call this whole fucking thing off right now. I mean, are you the type of asshole who tries to direct a blowjob? Alright then. Well, I will pay you to drive to his town and park a few blocks from his house, and take the items from the grocery store and take up your position behind the hedgerow as indicated in the drawing and wait. And when he passes the window on the way to the kitchen, you will throw the snowball. The snowball is everything. It must hit the window so that he looks out the window with a frightened expression on his face. The beginning of everything. And you must have the video camera ready. I won't pay if I don't see the "snowball reaction" on the videotape. Don't even think you can fuck with this detail. The last guy thought that. Think of all the other stuff as fudge topping. I'm serious. Do not waste my time if you don't think you can aim a snowball properly from that short distance. If the snowball hits the brick with a little pfft instead of the glass window, where you will see he keeps his fucking ceramic clown collection he calls art or something, you might as get back in your vehicle and drive home. I don't care if you get your own jollies while doing this, but don't harm the cat. That's a good cat. Place the cat in the bedroom that I have indicated on the second drawing and make sure to put his litter box, his food dish and his water dish in there with him. If the cat his harmed, allowed to escape from the house, or not correctly quarantined with the above-mentioned provisions, you get nothing. Nothing. Don't think I won't know. And make sure he's still conscious when you do the writing on the wall. Don't dribble or slobber on anything. Watch a couple Forensic Files first so you get good and paranoid in the right way. Don't ever call me again. Oh. I need to see the maraschino cherries up close. And don't forget to read the poem. Practice in the mirror beforehand. Or you get half of what I said. Half.