"Dad, I want to die. Can you kill me?"
Jim sat on the bed and stared at his son. His mouth hung agape. Tim had never expressed such thoughts before.
" . . . what?" Jim said, astounded in the worst way.
"I want to die."
"But, Tim, I can't kill you! Who will be my right hand man in mayhem? Who will stop me from wrecking myself in the process of wrecking the neighborhood?"
"I don't know, dad. All I know is everything changed when I was born. Everything got harder for you."
Jim gently stroked his son's arm. These situations were not his specialty. He was accustomed to the screams of unwilling victims, not suicidal sons. Still, he tried his hardest to console his favorite boy in the whole world.
"Tim, why don't you tell me what's really going on? I'm sure I'll fuck this up somehow, but I want to help."
Tim sniffled. "You promise?"
"Yes."
"I'm the one to blame for everything going to shit. If I had never existed, you'd be a lot better off. Maybe you'd have a normal house, a normal family . . . maybe you'd like more than one of your kids. That's why I'm always trying to help at my own expense. I feel guilty."
"I see . . . ," Jim sighed, "Tim, this isn't your fault. You had no choice in existing. The aliens took me against my will."
Tim started crying again, "Dad, I wish I could heal your trauma. I know you dream of it at night. I wish I could make it all go away. If I go away, that's one less reminder for you. That's one less mouth to feed. I'm so tired."
" . . . is this why you tried to play frogger the other day?"
"Yes, papa."
"Well, no more frogger for you. It's out of the question. I need you, Tim. You make things better when there's no one to torment. Your smile is why I get up and try to make money in the morning. I want to feed both of us good food. I want you to have a comfortable place to sleep. I want you to enjoy the misery of others as much as I do. You deserve all the good things in life. Stay with me, Tim."
"Okay, dad."
Jim curled up next to Tim on the double bed. This time, he stayed awake, keeping a close eye on his son.
. . . . . .
During breakfast the next morning, Tim contemplated his goals in life. Should he follow in his father's footsteps? Those would be awfully big shoes to fill. Besides, doing the actual killing wasn't his style. He wasn't timid, but the gore and pleas for salvation bothered him. He pondered the thought of being his dad's henchman. That sounded like a much better idea. He was already caring for the man, anyway.
At Jim's request, Tim followed him around for the day. The pair entered the basement to observe the progress of the painting slaves. "This is starting to look profitable!" Jim cheered, "Watch closely." He entered one of the pods to survey the conditions. The conditions were awful, which made them perfect. He gave Tim a thumbs up through the window. A wave motioned Tim in to witness the squalor. With nowhere to do the dishes, the mess in the kitchen area was growing. Rotten food was surely making their lives more miserable. These conditions would remind them that Jim was their master. Just to make things worse, he pissed right in front of the door, in the presence of his appalled son. Jim was feeling rather mean today, upset by last night's conversation.
"That's much better! Come, Tim, it's time to continue testing."
They released a male from his pod and sent him to space. They wanted to see whether he would survive the trip. Jim gave an enthusiastic salute as the rocket left the launch pad. He was surprised at the rocket's quick return, and that it was still intact upon arrival.
"So, what'd ya bring me?" Jim asked in jest.
"I've brought you a live space porcupine! Isn't it grand?"
"Erm . . . yes, I suppose it is."
"Have I failed to please you, master?"
"No, not this time. I'm just surprised, that's all."
Jim patted the prisoner on the shoulder and sent him back to his pod. He and Tim accompanied the male down the stairs. After the sale of some paintings, Jim discovered that he had enough money to care for his subjects a little better. With a smile, he bought them all actual beds. "I dote on them so much!" he said proudly. He waved at them before taking Tim back upstairs with him for the evening. Their evil lair was nearly complete. A few more additions to optimize the productivity of the prisoners would surely bring it all together.
Jim gave Tim a warm hug, and the pair laid down for an early sleep.