Man Would Have Liked To Have Killed Woman In Book

Funny story written by Monkey Woods

Sunday, 6 September 2020

image for Man Would Have Liked To Have Killed Woman In Book
Or maybe drop her down a well?

A man reading a book became so hateful of one of its female characters, that he claims he would have liked to have killed her with his own bare hands, or, in a variety of other ways.

The book in question, 'Une Page d'Amour', by Émile Zola, was being read by Moys Kenwood, and is the tale of Helene Grandjean, a woman who falls in love with a married man, Doctor Henri Deberle. There's more to it than that, of course, but we haven't got time for the full synopsis.

Mother Fetu is a disgusting old hag who Helene visits as part of her church work, bringing food and clothing, and answering the old woman's incessant sob stories with whatever cash she can manage.

Fetu never stops moaning, about her health, money, poverty, hunger, and lack of help, all the time attempting to weedle whatever she can out of the innocent Helene, whilst 'repaying' her kindness by uttering endless religious nonsense, entreating God to keep Helene in his care, and to ensure her providing angel a long and happy life.

Fetu, a creepy, greasy, slithering, illness-feigning beggar woman who shamelessly preys on the kindheartedness and generous nature of Helene, is the most despicable, underhand character that Kenwood has ever come across in literature. He said:

"She's truly awful. Gut-wrenchingly. I envisaged this wizened, ancient face covered in grime-filled wrinkles, with piano-key teeth, and scrunched-up, probing eyes missing nothing, atop a body bent double, shuffling from one begging post to the next, constantly dreaming-up new fictions by which she might profit, whilst licking her lips and fingering her rosary beads."

And the bit about killing her?

"I would have liked to have slit her throat from ear to ear; or slowly squeezed the life out of her with a cheese wire; or repeatedly driven over her in a Sherman tank, until there was just a pile of rags and bones; or, from a distance of 30 centimeters, blasted away at her face with a shotgun filled with grapeshot. She really wasn't very nice." would like to remind its readers that 'Une Page d'Amour' by Émile Zola is a work of fiction.

The funny story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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