"Suicide Note" excerpted from a book by Chuck Moulton

This passage is excerpted from an untitled book written by Chuck Moulton when he was in eighth grade in 1992, and it doubled as a theme assignment. Chuck was still alive at the time this issue was published.

Many among you may question my judgement and reasons for this suicide, so I have written what follows to explain the events that persuaded me of the merits of such a decision and to say my final goodbyes to the few who have supported me to my last hours and made my pitiful life seem bearable and even worthwhile on some isolated occations. I myself needed some reassurances and clarification concerning the logic of my final decision. Few of you have distinguished yourselves as unselfish friends and worthy recipients of the loving attention of your parents and the admiration of your fellow peers. Doubtless, some of my "friends" have already forgotten me; or, perhaps, they have already jumped upon my meager possessions and are feuding among themselves while you read. I must confess, it would give me a certain sense of perverted pleasure to see them quibble over my compact disc player or my computer, knowing that I have already taken the precaution of breaking them before my death. Do you think me evil? Am I better off dead? Not so--to the first question at least. None are truly evil, for their actions are a result of society's influence upon their fragile mind. Greed, hate, lust--all motivations for the most harsh of punishments: death. It's so easy to kill someone these days. A knife can cut out your heart, still beating intermittingly, though not perpetually, for it will be motionless soon. Small tablets of poison fit easily between the sauce and cheese in your pizza, scarcely perceptible by the naked eye--but who would check, anyway? No one is paranoid enough to defend himself. What about air? Nerve gas can seep into your lungs, as if from nowhere, killing or paralyzing the unprotected body in an instant. The mighty atom! What say you to the complete annihilation of not one, but a million, unsuspecting humans in the blink of an eye? Attackers need not even see their victims, or feel remorse for their pointless deaths, with the inventions of such weapons as the bomb and gun. Centuries old, arsenic, a very deadly poison, can help dissatisfied students get back at teachers or theme-readers for bad grades. In contrast with gunshots, arsenic may not induce death for hours or even days after its application. It produces a slow and sometimes extremely painful death to those unlucky enough to touch it--that's right, it enters through your skin! All it takes is one finger brushed across a spot of this feared black substance. After an hour or two the finger would turn totally black, and probably fall off. Arsenic looks and feels not entirely dissimilar to the ashy residue on this very paper. Boy, it makes you hope that you haven't angered me in the last week or so, doesn't it? Doing something like taking a point off on a "Pit and the Pendulim" quiz unfairly, for example. By now you've probably identified that black substance on your hands as a certain material commonly found in fertilizers. I picked up a large bag from Sears just for the occation. I'm sure I can definitely count on your complete attention through the rest of my theme. Sorry to ramble on about the arsenic, but I thought it would help you better understand what I felt, living in an enviornment of fear, isolation, and paranoia. You'll find the antidote in the enclosed tube inside the attached envelope, unless someone has already read this note and used it himself.

Chuck Moulton is a Vending Machine Attendent from Idaho. He toiled in the sweat shops of Taiwan for countless years to learn the trade. His pet peeves include crumpled up dollar bills and nutritious diets, and his most frequent utterance is "B5 isn't working today, sir." Some day he hopes to live the wild life of a Vending Machine Technician: traveling from city to city at the beckoning of the fates, enjoying the cuisine and the women each has to offer, and seeking his fortune among the merciless world of junk food. With luck, he would retire a wealthy man, and could use his knowledge to the benefit of all mankind: mesmerizing eager children with his incredible tales of merchandise jams, helping the elderly to find crisp bills to insert into the Vending Machines, and protecting helpless machines from unscrupulous gangs of punk kids, hell-bent on doing them damage for material gains and teenage pranks. Ahh, the life of a technician--how wonderful it must be! He studies his manuals constantly and takes every opportunity he can to mingle with the industry greats. One of his fondest memories is a chance encounter he had with Larry Elias, inventer of the change return mechanism. "Chuck," Larry said, "You know that *click* *click* *click* sound the machine makes when you get your money back?" Chuck nodded in awe. "Well," Larry continued, "it isn't your money returning to you. Those coins are in a bin just above the release mechanism. The sound is the bin I mentioned being filled for the next coin release. It's sort of like a que. I invented the thing, you know. Didn't get a patent (Mars Money Systems, Inc., the company I was working for, did), but I made it... all by myself. Nowadays ain't like it used to be. I'm a Computer Science teacher at Montgomery County Community College. Lots of Vending machines there, but they don't appreciate my contribution to the machines-- no sir!" That conversation changed his life. Chuck set out to realize his technician dream, by force if necessary. He'd show them, dagnabbit! Later that week, Chuck began to fill his machines with poisoned food. Not all of them, mind you--only the ones his superiors frequented. They died like flies, the lot of them. "Bouillya!" he yelled in glee, "victory shall be mine!" But, alas, it was not to be. His evil plan was discovered by a clever investigative reporter named Cedric, and Chuck was forced to go into hiding in the rolling plains of Idaho. So, as I said before, Chuck is now disguised as a mild-mannered Vending Machine Attendent from Idaho, while he plans anew his rise to fame and glory as a VENDING MACHINE TECHNICIAN.

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