internet or at least ration it, for all our sakes. I don’t like the way anything can come down the phone lines and end up on that screen. It’s not right. We should get rid of it because we get used to it and think it’s normal.”
“It’s the future, Audrey,” Harry replied “Don’t go fighting the future, no-one ever wins if they try to fight progress. You’ll start sounding like your mother, and then where will we all be?” He muttered something else under his breath, but he kept it low so that no-one could hear.
“Such a charming man,” she replied, rolling her eyes as she headed back to the kitchen. “You really know how to talk to a woman, Harry. It’s a gift.”
“I just say it like I see it,” he said with a smile.
“Is she annoyed with you?” Jack asked after a moment.
“Nah,” he muttered, turning to the next page in the newspaper. “Anyway, a woman being annoyed with a man is different to any other kind of annoyance. Don’t worry, I know how to handle a woman, it’s one of those things you learn as you get older. It’s part of being a man.”
“But what’s garroting?” he asked. “Come on, you still haven’t told me!”
“It’s -”
“It’s like strangulation,” Ben said suddenly, entering the room and heading to one of the empty chairs, “but way, way more brutal. It’s basically a ligature made out of your favored material, such as a rope or perhaps a section of chain, although it can be made out of more or less anything. You can improvise a garrote fairly easily. It’s particularly popular among the military, and many people prefer to use some kind of stick in the ligature itself, to make the process quicker and easier.” Grabbing a bowl, he took a seat. “Like I said, it’s brutal, but it’s also a good method to use if you happen to be a squeamish murderer. If you garrote someone, you just wrap the device around the neck and turn, you can even close your eyes while you’re doing it. For someone who’s still a little unsure about being a killer, it might be better that way.” He paused, fully aware that his father and brother were staring at him with expressions of shock. Finally, he began to smile. “Well, you did ask. Good morning, fellas.”
Harry frowned. “What in holy hell have you done to your hair?”
“My hair?” Ben looked up, pretending for a moment not to know what he meant, before chuckling to himself. “Oh yeah, I dyed it. What do you think?”
“It’s blonde,” Harry continued. “What is that, platinum blonde?”
“Brown’s so boring,” Ben continued, tipping some cereal into his bowl. Still smiling, he glanced at Jack. “Don’t you ever feel like changing your appearance up? It’s boring to look the same all the time, there’s nothing wrong with making a change. In which case you like looking boring, ‘cause then you’ve got the whole thing down pat, you really do.”
“You look stupid,” Jack replied.
“Cool,” Ben told him. “The word you’re looking for is cool. And thank you, you’re right, I do.”
“Wash it out,” Harry said sternly.
“I can’t.”
“Get in that bathroom,” he continued, pointing toward the door, “and wash it out.”
“It’s dyed, father. I used proper dye from the store, I did it in the bathroom last night after you’d all gone to bed.”
“Jesus Christ,” Harry muttered, “what the hell is wrong with you?”
“I wanted to look cool. You know, like Lou Reed from that album cover.”
“Lou Reed stinks,” Jack replied.
“Whatever,” Ben continued, “the point is, I felt like doing something different with my hair, and after all it is my hair. I figure that by the age of fifteen, my hair has been emancipated from the shackles of parental control. Besides, it’s not like I came into your rooms and did it to you. And no, Dad, before you start worrying, dying my hair blonde doesn’t make me a homosexual or a pervert. I know that’s what you were
“It’s the future, Audrey,” Harry replied “Don’t go fighting the future, no-one ever wins if they try to fight progress. You’ll start sounding like your mother, and then where will we all be?” He muttered something else under his breath, but he kept it low so that no-one could hear.
“Such a charming man,” she replied, rolling her eyes as she headed back to the kitchen. “You really know how to talk to a woman, Harry. It’s a gift.”
“I just say it like I see it,” he said with a smile.
“Is she annoyed with you?” Jack asked after a moment.
“Nah,” he muttered, turning to the next page in the newspaper. “Anyway, a woman being annoyed with a man is different to any other kind of annoyance. Don’t worry, I know how to handle a woman, it’s one of those things you learn as you get older. It’s part of being a man.”
“But what’s garroting?” he asked. “Come on, you still haven’t told me!”
“It’s -”
“It’s like strangulation,” Ben said suddenly, entering the room and heading to one of the empty chairs, “but way, way more brutal. It’s basically a ligature made out of your favored material, such as a rope or perhaps a section of chain, although it can be made out of more or less anything. You can improvise a garrote fairly easily. It’s particularly popular among the military, and many people prefer to use some kind of stick in the ligature itself, to make the process quicker and easier.” Grabbing a bowl, he took a seat. “Like I said, it’s brutal, but it’s also a good method to use if you happen to be a squeamish murderer. If you garrote someone, you just wrap the device around the neck and turn, you can even close your eyes while you’re doing it. For someone who’s still a little unsure about being a killer, it might be better that way.” He paused, fully aware that his father and brother were staring at him with expressions of shock. Finally, he began to smile. “Well, you did ask. Good morning, fellas.”
Harry frowned. “What in holy hell have you done to your hair?”
“My hair?” Ben looked up, pretending for a moment not to know what he meant, before chuckling to himself. “Oh yeah, I dyed it. What do you think?”
“It’s blonde,” Harry continued. “What is that, platinum blonde?”
“Brown’s so boring,” Ben continued, tipping some cereal into his bowl. Still smiling, he glanced at Jack. “Don’t you ever feel like changing your appearance up? It’s boring to look the same all the time, there’s nothing wrong with making a change. In which case you like looking boring, ‘cause then you’ve got the whole thing down pat, you really do.”
“You look stupid,” Jack replied.
“Cool,” Ben told him. “The word you’re looking for is cool. And thank you, you’re right, I do.”
“Wash it out,” Harry said sternly.
“I can’t.”
“Get in that bathroom,” he continued, pointing toward the door, “and wash it out.”
“It’s dyed, father. I used proper dye from the store, I did it in the bathroom last night after you’d all gone to bed.”
“Jesus Christ,” Harry muttered, “what the hell is wrong with you?”
“I wanted to look cool. You know, like Lou Reed from that album cover.”
“Lou Reed stinks,” Jack replied.
“Whatever,” Ben continued, “the point is, I felt like doing something different with my hair, and after all it is my hair. I figure that by the age of fifteen, my hair has been emancipated from the shackles of parental control. Besides, it’s not like I came into your rooms and did it to you. And no, Dad, before you start worrying, dying my hair blonde doesn’t make me a homosexual or a pervert. I know that’s what you were
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