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But No One Gets Hurt Sometimes you fantasize about evil things just so that you can be a hero. Maybe right in front of your house a school bus full of kindergarteners will crash into a truck delivering Cockapoos and Labradoodles rescued from a puppy mill and then you will have to go out and retrieve the children and canines from the trees. The headlines will say that you acted heroically and that your resuscitative efforts transcended “species and breed.” In the food court at the mall, you sit nearest the vendor selling the most dangerous food, namely hot dogs and popcorn. Today will be the day a harried mother slices little Tyler’s frankfurter, neglecting to cut each slice into pie quarters. She knows (as you do) but forgets, in her haste and need to make a doctor’s appointment for her son, that a slice of hot dog is roughly the same diameter of a small child’s esophagus and, therefore, the number one choking hazard to children. All you have to hope is that Tyler pops the entire slice of all-beef suffocation product into his mouth and doesn’t decide to be cute and nibble it. If people knew you thought these things, you’d have fewer friends than you already do, so you think, “What’s the harm, I have little to lose,” so you keep thinking about falling airplane debris in urban areas and shards of hard plastic in prepared foods at the supermarket salad bar. But no one gets hurt and you don’t ever want them to. To you, it’s no different from wanting to be a rock star, someone noticed for being something just a little bit more interesting than alive.
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