Pillow Talk
(February 6, 2006)
Warning: This misadventure may not be suitable for my younger fans

It began innocently enough when Ham declined to purchase Girl Guide cookies from my little cousins. The following day at World of Ham Headquarters, I teased him by calling him “cheaper than a bag of dead monkeys”. It was with this great tease that he questioned my social commitments.

“Suzy, you are no angel either. I may be thrifty but at least I volunteer. You have never given back to society.” 

I slammed the fashion section of the newspaper to the table for effect. 

“That is not true. I do stuff.”
“Like what?”
“Well… there was that one time… you know.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, with the guy and, and, the dog.” 
“What are you talking about?” 
“Stuff-stuff you haven’t seen. Look, I’m a modest person - I don’t brag about my volunteering to others.”
“That’s because there is nothing to brag about.”
“No!”
“Save your breath Suzy, it’s already hot in here. Face it, I wouldn’t believe it unless I saw it.”

Ham left (no doubt to scrutinize another of my expense reports) so I grabbed his newspaper.

“The Classifieds must be in here somewhere. I’ll show him that I contribute to society!” I said to myself rather too loudly.

VOLUNTEERS NEEDED TO help people die in their own homes. Commitment, one two-hour shift.

It was perfect. Only one shift and only two hours to boot. Oh, and I would be giving back to society.

I immediately telephoned the number in the Classified where I spoke to a man named Jimmy. He told me that his group attends to homes to help people die with dignity. He emphasized that no one wants to die in a hospital or one of those horrible nursing homes. We simply do the housework so that the seniors can still live at home.

I insisted to start immediately so he asked me to meet him that night at a Mrs. Bradbury’s house. After I hung up the phone I realized he gave me the address but not the directions.

If Ham needed to see proof of my goodness then I would have it for him. Before I left World of Ham Headquarters, I slipped into Ham’s office to retrieve his camcorder. Not just any camcorder – the Cam-of-all-Trades camcorder used by Ham in his pointless surveillance undercover story missions.

That evening I arrived via taxi. I met Jimmy at the back door as instructed. 

The house was dark.
“Is anyone home?”
“Yes, Mrs. Bradbury is sleeping. She feels useless seeing others do her housework for her so we clean at night. We don’t want to wake her up so please don’t turn on any lights.” 

“Now, Suzy would you mind getting the key for me? My back is acting up again.” 
I retrieved the key from under the doormat and opened the door. 

The house had the smell of a senior citizen’s house. I guess six thousand fifty year-old dollies will do that. 

“Suzy, you want to start the dusting? The supplies are under the sink. If you could make sure you move everything when you dust – that would be great. Mrs. Bradbury is too fragile to dust and she so-ever loves a finely dusted home.

I volunteered as instructed moving knickknacks, curtains and dollies while dusting. Jimmy used the phone then excused himself on account of his back. I moved from room to room, dusting all the while filming myself in volunteer action. However due to the darkness I had to use the infrared camera setting. After I placed Ham’s camera on the dresser in the final bedroom, I noticed Mrs. Bradbury in bed. She was sleeping peacefully. 

“She’s a sweetie isn’t she?” 
Jimmy whispered as he entered the bedroom. 
“Yes she is. 
“This is the last room. Suzy you did an amazing job through the house.”
“Thank you.”

I was proud of my volunteering. I had made a difference in someone’s life even if it was only dusting.

“Say, pass me that pillow, will you?”
“Why?”
“Pass that pillow so I can kill her.”
“Ha ha, very funny.”
“Seriously, pass me the pillow so she can die with dignity.” 

I looked at Jimmy and immediately knew he was not joking. He really did want me to pass him the pillow so that he could kill Mrs. Bradbury.

“Mrs. Bradbury has paid me good money to kill her tonight. She is terminally ill and does not want to die in pain.”

“You mean you are an Euthanasist?”
“Yes Suzy, my clients pay me to kill them – to put them out of their misery – to die with dignity and no pain.”

“Is that legal?”
“Morally yes. Technically – no.”

“But you cleaned her house! Why would you go to that trouble to kill someone?”
“I wasn’t cleaning. You were.”
“Hey that’s right! You did nothing!”
“Hence I have no fingerprints in this house. However, you, Suzy have fingerprints everywhere - the key, the back door, the kitchen, every room, knickknack and dolly in this place. I bet you took a taxi to arrive here.”

He could tell from my expression that he was correct.

“I knew it! Now you are placed at the house during the time of death. You are all the same. You feel guilty because you have done nothing with your life so you grabbed the want ads look for the fluffiest volunteer gig with the least commitment, volunteer your little shift and then that’s it – back to princess world. Over the years I learned which type of want ad attracts the best and you, Suzy TooToo are my best scapegoat yet!”

“There, there have been others?”
“Of course! How do you think I’ve managed to stay in the business? Scapegoats are the key to any euthanasist. I can’t possibly do my job if I’m in jail. Now please hand me that pillow.”

“No.”
“You want to kill her yourself eh?”
“NO!”
“You might as well. After all you are going to jail for it anyway. The jail-time will pass faster if you actually committed the crime. Come on! Put that duster down and contribute to society. Mrs. Bradbury wants to die.”

Then I thought I had him.

“Ha ha, the phone call. You called someone! That will be on the phone records Mister. Stop now while it’s only attempted murder.”

“You are right, I did call someone - I called World of Ham Headquarters. Now you are linked to the phone records!”

He grabbed the pillow and motioned towards Mrs. Bradbury. I looked around the dark room for something that would stop him. I found it on the dresser!

“You may want to stop before you are caught on tape.” 
He stopped and looked back at me. 
“That’s right mister – you are being taped!”
“You’re bluffing.” 
“I am not! You must realize that being a princess means I need to film my volunteer work. How else is anyone going to believe me?”

I was disappointed in how fast he thought this possible. Not even an euthanasist would believe I would contribute back to society.

“Where is it?”
I looked as far away as possible from the dresser to the closet. As he turned towards the closet I ran to the dresser. I grabbed my camera and sprinted to the door. Jimmy tripped my ankle causing me to fall in the hallway. 

Initially I thought “wow, he’s pretty mobile for a guy with a sore back.” Then I realized he lied about that too. Jimmy (if that was even his real name!) didn’t have a sore back at all – he only wanted me to get as many fingerprints in the house as possible. 

I turned to see Jimmy reaching for my camera. I quickly hit his face with the full force of the dirty duster.

He fell to his knees in an uncontrollable sneeze. I ran through the back door with camera in hand. Jimmy the Euthanasist was arrested within the hour.

Unfortunately Ham still does not believe I tried to volunteer because the police confiscated my tape for evidence.