The Hangover From Hell

Waking up in bed after having lots of wine the night before can give you a headache. 

Mary knew that.  Getting up is even worse.  Mary knew that too.  But she got up anyway.
After all, she was the one o’clock newsreader for RTE 1.  She didn’t enjoy it though. In fact, she hated it.  But it was the only job she was good at.

Mary Smith was a tired-looking 34 year-old woman who looked older than she was (not that she would say that) and she wasn’t very pretty either.
Anyway, Mary walked into the RTE studios and said hello to her fellow news crew.  As Joe did her make-up, she asked journalist Philip about the afternoon’s headlines.

“Oh, the usual,” replied Philip. “Mary McAleese found drunk in a bush, an interview with a bird who’s eaten a dog and a baby who nearly got suffocated by its nappy.”
Mary went over to the desk in front of the camera and sat down.

“Come on, people!” shouted Stacy the producer. “We’re live in 10, 9, 8, 7…”
Mary fixed her hair and got ready.  Here we go, she thought.  Another boring afternoon of news!  Little did Mary know that this would be the most unusual day of newsreading she would ever do…
“… 3, 2, 1, action!”

A couple of miles away, in a little old cottage, there lived a little old lady called Ms. Gray.  She trotted into her little old sitting room and turned on her little old television just in time for the news.
“Good afternoon,” said the woman on screen.  “I’m Mary Smith and welcome to the one o’clock news.”  She went on to go through the headlines: drunk President, baby with suffocatting nappy etc.
“Earlier today,” began Mary, “the Gardai
found-“

But Mary never got to finish her sentence.  Something big and heavy fell on top of her.  The screen went blank.
“RTE 1 will be back on the air in approximately some time soon,” announced a voice.
“Oh dearie me,” sighed Ms. Gray.  “And I did want to hear about that little old baby too…”

Back at the studio, Mary woke up.  Someone was bending over her.  It was Philip, the journalist.  He looked concerned.

“Something hit me,” moaned Mary as Philip helped her up.
“It was a stiff,” said Philip.
“Yes, I do feel a bit stiff,” Mary groaned.
“No!  As in A STIFF!  A CORPSE!  A DEAD BODY!”
“Wh-what?” Mary mumbled.  It was then that she saw all of the Gardai swarming around.  They were questioning everyone in the room.  She could see the shape of a body under a blanket.
“Who was it?” Mary asked.

“We don’t know yet,” replied a Garda.  “I don’t believe we’ve been introduced.  Sergeant Williams.”  He shook her hand.  He was a tall man with very dark hair and a little piggy nose.

“Mary Smith, “ said Mary.  “How did the body fall on top of me?  It came from the ceiling!”  She pointed up at the ceiling and she saw a rope hanging from it.
“Some crazy maniac tied the body up there,” said Sergeant Williams in a-matter-of-fact tone.  “After stabbing him three times.”
“Can I just go home please?”  Mary felt sick.
“Sure.  You’ve had enough for today, “ said Philip.

 When Mary got home, she was exhausted.  She was about to flop down on the bed when she saw something all shiny and glinting under it.  She knelt down and picked up.  It was a knife.  A knife covered in blood.
Mary’s heart nearly stopped.  Then the phone rang, making Mary nearly jump out of her skin.  She answered it, her hands shaking.
“Ms. Smith?”  It was Sergeant Williams.  “I found the body’s identity.  It was a guy called Mark Price.  Mean anything to you?”
“No,” Mary trembled.  “But it doesn’t matter.  I killed him.”
“What?!”
“Meet me at my house.  42 Red Bush Avenue.”  Mary was nearly starting to cry.
The sergeant arrived fifteen minutes later.
“What do you mean, you killed him?” he asked when she let him in.
“I had a bit too much to drink last night.  I guess I wasn’t thinking straight,” admitted Mary.
 “But if you can’t remember it then-“ started Sergeant Williams.
“No-one must know,” said Mary sadly.  She picked up the knife and rammed it into the sergeant.  As his body fell to the floor and blood began to seep out of his wound, Mary felt something strange.  She felt good.

Philip strolled into the RTE 1 studios the next morning where a horrible sight lay before him.  Everyone had been murdured.  Joe the make-up man had been chopped into quarters.  Stacy the producer’s head was rolling around.
Then Philip saw Mary walking towards him with a knife.
“What happened here?” cried Philip.
“I killed everyone,” said Mary.  “The other night, I killed that man.  I was drunk.”  She shrugged.  “I can’t remember it but I found a knife under my bed to prove it.”
“So what you’re saying is, you’re a crazy maniac?”
“Yes.  I’m the killer.”
“No you’re not.  I am.”
“No,”  Mary was starting to panic.  “Nonononononono NO!!!”  She dropped the knife.
“I stabbed Mark Price and hung him up on the ceiling,” grinned Philip.  “I thought it would liven up the day!”
“Oh, please, NO!!!” screamed Mary as Philip picked up the knife and advanced towards her…

In the end, Philip and Mary married each other and lived happily ever after.  No, that’s not the end.  Sure, like it would be.  The fact is that I can’t even begin to describe what Philip did to Mary that day.  So, for now, let’s imagine that Philip and Mary skipped off into the sunset, hand in hand.     

by Billy Linehan