Bathroom Monologue: The More Dangerous Game

The pilot signaled to Mr. Weiss and started the engine. The helicopter’s blades whooped to life above their cabin. As they lifted off, Mr. Weiss climbed into the back and squeezed his wife’s knee.

“Honey, you can take off the blindfold now. Happy anniversary.”

“I’m not taking it off, Howard.”

“Why? You have to see what I got you.”

She remained stolid, as though sitting on a particularly unpleasant icicle.

“No, I don’t.”

Mr. Weiss eyed her as though she could see through the blindfold. He wondered sometimes.

“I promise you’ll like it.”

“I promise I won’t. We’re in a helicopter over international waters. Again. You’re taking me hunting. Again.”

“We’re hunting the most dangerous game!”

Mrs. Weiss lolled her head back and groaned.

“The two times we hunted human beings weren’t enough for you, Howard? They aren’t that dangerous. We get high-powered rifles and they get drugged by prostitutes and dropped off in a strange land. I’m not taking off the blindfold and I’m not setting foot outside this helicopter. If you want them so bad you can make our anniversary like every other night of the year and go play with yourself.”

He waited for her to be done. She had to be done for maximum enjoyment.

“We’re not hunting humans this year," he said, leaning towards her. "You were right. They’re not very dangerous except under very specific circumstances.”

“I don’t want to hunt a human whose daughter you kidnapped either, Howard. I saw that brochure in your bag.”

“We’re not doing that. They got bad reviews on their website. Besides, it turns out humans are not even on the top twenty-five most dangerous games.”

She shifted, as though her icicle had melted a little with curiosity.

Seeing her shift, he reached over her armrest and stroked her wrist. “For instance, number fourteen is hunting a bear.”

“Bears aren’t that dangerous. I have a basement full of them.”

“They are when you don’t use a gun.”

She licked her lips.

“Number seven is a great white shark, hunted from a rowboat with two paddles and a bowie knife. Number four has to do with some chimpanzees they’ve taught to wield samurai swords.” He moved in close enough to breath on her neck. That worked sometimes. “Bet you wish you’d seen this brochure.”

“What are we hunting, Howard?”

“Number one.”

Her posture was nearly defrosted now. She asked, “What’s number one?”

“You’ll find out when you take off the blindfold.”

She inhaled slowly, nostrils splayed.

“No, I’m leaving it on.”

Howard slapped the armrest in frustration.

“Why?”

She reached over for his knee. Her fingers slid up until he pressed back into his chair. Then she squeezed.

“My present will be more fun that way. Happy anniversary, Howard.”