The death of Mr. Pip - (A Thought Experiment)

One fine morning, Mr. Pip decided to kill his employer. The feeling that had been festering in him for quite some time, found maturity and fullness with the sour apple sauce that his wife served him for breakfast. That being finalized, he amused himself with the steps in committing the deed, and getting away from it too (for it must be remembered that Mr. Pip was a most careful man). He plotted the issue in great detail, kissed his wife (who was killing their decadent cat by choking her with cream) and left.

Mr. Pip walked into the streets dressed in his very respectable blazer (yes, his favorite pink one with green spots) and corduroy trousers with some unwashed cat urine on them. People waved across to him all the way, for Mr. Pip was indeed a very respectable man. On the way he stopped by the pub for a quick drink. The merry party gathered there shouted for a song, and as always Mr. Pip obliged them. Half way through the dance, he joyfully smashed two beer bottles on his face, breaking one lens of his glasses. The audience roared in appreciation, and the famed guitarist gave Mr. Pip a special song on his white guitar made of human bones secretly smuggled from the grave, which everyone knew about.

“ There goes Mr. Pip,” said an old timer to his grandson, “ what a fine man! And when you grow up, you must be like him”. The boy who was beating a pup to death, cheered on by his friends, did not listen.

Mr. Pip walked on to the city square, where he knew Mr. Smith and his wife would be – in the middle of their own orgies, attended only by the most refined and elite people. In these rich parts, Mr. Pip was not recognized. However, to make sure, he bought an empty tin can and covered his face with it, save two holes for the eyes. And since the dirty yellow spoon was free with the tin, he walked along banging the tin with it.

Mr. Pip looked at his watch – anytime now, Mr. Smith would be out of the orgy halls. Sure enough, there he was, lumbering out on all fours, his hand half way up a nun’s thigh. The nun giggled nervously, raised her skirts a bit higher with one hand (and with the other removed his wallet from his coat). Mrs. Smith came out of the opposite building, half walking, half carried by her lover. The gentry gathered near the gardens.

The mayor, a jovial huge man with enormous moustaches stepped out. “ Three cheers to Mr. Smith and his wife!!!” he cried, “for completing twenty years of married life in perfect unity and happiness”. The crowd clapped. Mr. Smith clumsily clambered onto his feet (he still had been trailing behind the nun on all fours). Mrs. Smith blushed coyly.

Mr. Pip knew that he had to act now. He quickly (banging on the tin can covering is face) followed his employer who was walking towards the shop that sold crack. With one hand, he tapped on Mr. Smith’s shoulder. As the latter turned about, Mr. Pip drew a thin and long blade out of his blazer and stabbed his employer through the heart.

There was a scream

There were more screams

There was a stampede of people rushing to the scene, as Mr. Pip held his murdered employer in his arms. Both Mrs. Smith and the nun fainted. They would have fallen on the ground, if it had not been for two kindly gentlemen who took them to their rooms (and later slept with them). The mayor took control.

“ Nobody leaves this place!!!” he hollered, “ Before we find who murdered Mr. Smith”. “ Officer Stan!!!” he screamed, “ Where are you??”

Officer Stan stepped out of the crowd.

“ That is right” he said, “ No one leaves this place till we find who murdered Mr. Smith. You there!!!” he shouted at Mr. Pip “ do you know anything?”

“ Like hell I do!!!” shouted back Mr. Pip “ here lies my best friend murdered by that black stranger who swept past me, and you stand about asking questions!! I have a good mind to report you officer,” he added.

“ I am sorry sir, ” said the officer in genuine regret, “but do you know how it all happened?”

Mr. Smith groaned. Apparently, Mr. Pip had not done a good enough job. He tried to speak, only to be cut short by Mr. Pip…

“ You know nothing Smith”, he said, and continued to the crowd “ There was this black stranger”, he waved his arms wildly. “ That son of Satan came here with this knife- just look at it. He flung about dear Smith and plunged in the knife, just like this…”

Mr. Pip plunged the knife into Mr. Smith’s heart once more, then again, then again, and once again for luck. Mr. Smith groaned and sank down for good.

“ And I promise you” roared Mr. Pip, “ I am not leaving till this foul murder is avenged!!!”

“ Now, now, my good man” said the mayor “ he was a great friend to all of us. Do not worry”, the mayor’s handsome face was set in rigid lines of heroic determination “ the murderer shall be brought to justice”. He stroked his magnificent moustaches.

“ You better do that,” shouted Mr. Pip, “and fast”. And he went down the lane banging the dirty yellow spoon on the tin can (that was still on his head).

“ That is a real gentleman, that Mr. Pip”, said the millionaire brewer, as he removed the rings off the dead man’s fingers and put them into his own pocket.

The police, under officer Stan set out to get the murderer – dead or alive. They roamed the country high and low for possible suspects.


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They found Mr. Pip sitting in his garden, as he was smelling the roses and hearing the water falling on the little stones in his fountain. They found him alone, talking to the trees and quite obviously mad. There, they clearly and beyond any doubt knew that he was the murderer - the instant they saw him there, ridiculously holding roses and talking to trees. First they sat down and laughed heartily. Then they shot him in the head. They shot him again and again till he was quite dead.

The murder of Mr. Smith was finally avenged.


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