Oh what a tangled web we weave,/When first we practise to deceive! – Sir Walter Scott
Blackmail is a most delightful enterprise. Well, it’s delightful when you’re the one blackmailing someone else. If the tables are turned, however, it’s terrible. But that’s not the position I’m currently in. I, currently, am the one with the power.
Now, I won’t go into detail about who I can presently lord this over (though, I can assure you that if you’re reading this blog then you’re definitely a candidate—let’s be honest, who else do I know?). Furthermore—further chance that this could indeed be you—this particular person is completely unaware of the newfound influence I possess.
Mu-ah-ha-ha … MU-AH-HA-HA
Isn’t it a great image to imagine me cackling?
You see, I have ears everywhere. Which means I hear things. Because that’s what ears do. They hear. And when I heard this particular nugget of information, this particularly delicious divulgence of delinquency, I had no choice but to contemplate, machinate, and scheme on how I could use this bit of information for my benefit.
What else do I have to do while living at home?
I will admit this: my piece of blackmail begins with someone else’s lie. A lie so ingenious, so clever, so intricate, that only I could have deduced its deceptive beginnings…which means it wasn’t very ingenious, clever, or intricate in the first place.
When I was four or five, my father once told me a story of how he had been in Mexico and encountered a spider so large that when he dropped a dictionary on top of it, the spider just stood back up and continued moving, the dictionary along with it.
Years later, when my sense of smell had developed an awareness for bull crap, I confronted my father about the story and he admitted it was a lie (I knew my father didn’t read the dictionary—he still spells tomato with an “e”).
After attaining this confession though, I pretended like I had told all my friends this story and acted as though this revelation would bring me an immeasurable amount of embarrassment and emotional damage—something, surely, Mother would not want to hear about.
Yes, even at that age I was a conniving little bastard, but let me tell you, I had never eaten so much ice-cream in one day before then.
With this new lie I have discovered, my end goal will not be so shortsighted as frozen desserts. I’m talking big here. Like a trip to the zoo—that he or she pays for. Or a year’s supply of chapstick!—which is really just one container…though it will be Burt’s Bees! My favorite! And a most expensive kind. (You should really try their pomegranate flavor; it’s scrumptious).
Will I ever reveal this blackmail publicly?
Maybe. Maybe not. Just depends on if someone else’s offer can counter what the currently blackmailed can do for me instead.
MU-AH-HA-HA! MU-AH-HA—cough, cough. [sigh] I’m just getting over a damn cold.
[…] P.S. Want to hear another of my spider encounters? […]