The incongruity of a human head next to the KitchenMaid Mixer on his kitchen counter made Theodore giggle. Not that murdering someone was funny… he wasn’t deranged. It was just absurd. Certainly nothing like anything he had ever seen in Martha Stewart Living.

He had never set out to kill anyone… indeed, the idea that he had done it made him just as queasy as it made him excited. He couldn’t imagine that anyone who met him ever would have expected him to do such a thing… they probably wouldn’t have even imagined him killing a cricket. He had never imagined himself doing such a thing either, for that matter… and that he accomplished it in such a gruesome manner was frankly inconceivable.

Really, in a world where such an improbable thing could happen, anything seemed possible. It was this sense of possiblity that excited Theodore more than anything. The grass could be purple… the air could taste like cotton candy… there could be moonbeams coming from the Sun. He could indeed accomplish great things, he had no doubt. Why had this not been apparent before?

Theodore tenderly set the head in a plastic shopping bag, and let it hang from his hand. It felt just like the groceries! He stepped out the front door, and squinted at the sun.