BY PAUL BECKMAN
My brother, Ricky, and I caught the kid who’d been egging our house and we tackled him, duct-taped his mouth and drove him to the cemetery where we sat him down on a grave, back to the headstone and duct-taped him to the stone using the rest of the roll.
The grave next to it was freshly dug and we untapped his mouth and told him that if he told us why the egging we wouldn’t bury him alive. He told us the school bully made him do it but he didn’t know why.
Ricky and I dug the grave a couple of feet deeper and went to the bully’s house. He was sitting on his porch smoking and we asked him why and he told us to fuck off. Ricky pepper sprayed him and I quickly taped his mouth with fresh duct tape and we cuffed his hands behind his back and gave him a ride to the cemetery in our car trunk.
“Why?” We asked him while wrapping him into a mummy with the duct tape and he said, “Cause your Jews.”
“Good enough,” we said and rolled his completely taped body into the grave and covered him with the extra two feet of dirt.
We went to the grave-side service and watched as the egger was cut loose by the police. He stared at me and my brother but didn’t speak, just cried and wet his pants for all to see.
Two weeks later our house was egged again and a note was left. “You buried the wrong guy.”