Victor Volitz died on a Tuesday, in Violet Virginia – population 425. By Saturday, his seven children and the rest of Violet were dead as well. This is their story.

Jenni found her father Victor dead on the sofa with his favorite television channel still playing the latest Bridezilla meets Toddlers of Honey Boo Boo on vacation, at a volume that would wake the dead. In fact, Jenni didn’t notice that her father was dead until after, at least, five more episodes (it was a marathon, you would have done the same, admit it) and her father’s smell had gotten to the point where she had to get up and open a window, and tripped over his outstretched arm.

“Daddy, move your arm you lazy sack of bloviating pus!”

Jenni loved her daddy.

“Seriously daddy, you could have hurt me.”

Three more shows and the window wasn’t helping.

“For the love of all things holy, go take a shower!”

Jenni was deeply saddened to learn later that she had been talking to a corpse, but also that the social security would be stopping now, and she might have to get a job. Jenni isn’t sure what bothered her more, but figured she better get the rest of the clan together so they could mourn right and proper.

Or fight.

Fighting was way more fun than mourning anyway.


The phone would ring for five minutes before going to voice mail. Holly had set it up that way because her son Henry loved to hide the dang thing and it would take at least that long to find it.

It took four phone calls before she finally found it, by where she was originally sitting, and found out that her father had died and that she would leave her family behind to attend a funeral because she didn’t want them to be unduly influenced by her family back in Violet, and to be honest, she really wanted some time alone so she could sleep through the night. It would also give her husband the opportunity to ‘feel her pain’ while taking care of the babies and fixing the dang cell phone and iPad which seemed to be slipping through her fingers and shattering.

Holly left a note and coupon for a great pizza parlor, and headed back home to mourn her daddy. Also, it would give her a chance to beat the crap out of her brother Roger. That piece of work really needed a good beating after what he did last Christmas, sending rum balls that were obviously re-gifted from their sister Kathë who was the only one that actually knew how to bake.


Janet had to leave her choir contest in Hawaii to get back for the wake and funeral, and was none too happy about it. Although it came at a good time, as good a time as hearing about your father’s death can be, as she was on the run from the hotel security, and possibly the Honolulu police department and kick that loser lesbian Lana’s ass for getting all uppity about a freaking poem that she had spent seventeen weeks agonizing over.

It was really only three days of agony, but this bitch had seventeen week’s worth of beat down coming, and Janet was only on week thirteen when Jenni called to let her know that dear old daddy dearest had finally met his maker.

The bastard always got in the way of a good beat down.


Karen was ‘milking’ Jack to help him out with Margo, when Jenni called with the news of their father.

“Karen, I have bad news.”

“Yeah Jenni, me too, Jack just won’t get off enough to impregnate Margo and now the vet, says his sperm count is low and abnormal, but I refuse to believe that especially since I paid a small fortune for the dog to begin with…”.

“Dad is dead.”

“Okay and what’s the bad news? Are Roger and Katherine going to be there for the wake? You know those two and their weapons of comic destruction.”

“Well, I haven’t called them yet. Do you think I should?”

“Nah. Besides, I’d be willing to bet that Holly already told them – if she can find her phone that is.”

“Good point. I think she’ll be here in an hour. I’ll ask her then.”


The wake was being held at Victor’s house, technically it was in the garage, because Jenni didn’t know how to organize one until it was too late. Luckily Bryan and Siobhan, cousins from mom’s side of the family, got wind of the death of Victor and offered to get him “all pertied up” for the wake, as long as Jenni had somewhere that they could dump the blood.

The wake was a splendid affair that was attended by no one in town because, well, no one liked Victor.

Not one single person in the entire town.


Roger found out that his father had died when his sister Holly called. She promised not to call Katherine, yet had called her first, so she really didn’t break the promise to Roger. She did not promise Katherine anything, in fact after making both calls Holly decided that popcorn would be in order for the upcoming ‘show’ when the wake got started. Holly was also no dummy, and told Katherine the wake started at three, while she told Roger it started at four.


At three o’clock a limousine pulled into the driveway and Katherine had arrived. Everyone looked at Jenni, who simply said, “I didn’t call her.”

“What’s up bitches? Where’s ole fat and flabby? I got a little something I want to show him.”

“Katherine it is so nice of you to come and see father off to his everlasting peace.”

“Everlasting peace? Shit he’s in Hell watching the action to get started, I’m sure. Either that or he’s sleeping through it all.”

“Katherine, he’s dead, so there is no need for sl…”

“No shit Janet! Glad to see those brains of yours are still in working order. Sing any good hymns lately?”

“I, uh… kiss off KATE!”

The knife that struck Janet in the right arm came from Katherine, for sure. Only no one actually saw her throw it. No one called Katherine, Kate, and lived to see the next day. Everyone knew that, yet Janet decided to throw that gauntlet down right away.

Janet was also prepared, getting a gown made of Kevlar was expensive, but well worth it when it came to meetings with her family. Momma didn’t raise no dummies, unfortunately momma didn’t really raise any of them after Roger and his fat head arrived and ripped momma open so much that she died in three minutes after his arrival.


Roger arrived thirty minutes early, as was his custom, and thirty minutes after Katherine. He knew that Holly had called her before she called him, because Holly liked the show.

Getting a double-edged sword through airport security isn’t the easiest thing to do when all you have is a carryon bag, so Roger had to collect the swords he kept near the house, which were hidden just for such an occasion as this, the wake of his daddy.

He would, of course, save Katherine for last – she always was a good adversary.


Sheriff’s report from the weekend:

Victor Volitz’s Vast Violent, Vindictive, Vehement, Versatile family Victimizes Violet.

Death count: 440, including the decedent Victor Volitz and his family.

Root cause: A wake gone bad

Summary: A member of Victor Volitz’s family, we suspect either Roger Volitz or Katherine Volitz, somehow rigged the entire town to explode violently at approximately 1537 local time. No citizen survived the explosions; basically they wiped the entire town off the map.

—- I really wish that I could put that statement better, but it really was that simple, town go BOOM!

Meanwhile at the Volitz residence the family was having a wake for the deceased. Those present included all seven of Mr. Volitz’s children, along with a niece and nephew who were there after preparing the body for burial. (Illegally, I might add, but it really is quite a moot point now when you come to think of it)

The best that forensics could determine is that shortly after Victor’s only son Roger arrived, the town blew up, at which point Kathë had her head removed from her body by a double-edged sword (see exhibit A & B), from what we could gather in talking with those familiar with Mr Volitz (Roger), he didn’t like the fact that everyone seemed to know that he didn’t know how to make rum balls and had been re-gifting the things to his siblings under the pretense that he did in fact make them himself. For that, his sister was decapitated.

Forensics then believes that Janet, who had just missed losing her arm moments earlier, died from blunt trauma to the head, forensics suspects a frying pan (Exhibit C), and they also suspect that it was from a backhanded motion, which if true, really makes me impressed. With the forensic team. No really. How did they figure that one?

Karen, who was wearing gloves because she was apparently trying to get some doggy sperm from her dog Jack by utilizing her hands in a milking motion (okay you get the point, and there is no need to mention that the dog’s name was Jack(forget I wrote that, in triplicate(CRAP))). There was no dog found at the scene of the crime. Who knows, maybe there will be a bunch of little Jacks running around in the fields somewhere. I suspect he never quite expected the stimulation that he received from both Karen and the sword and frying pan wielding nut jobs. So yeah, Karen was the third to go.

Bryan and Siobhan didn’t seem to put up much of a fight and were found embraced together with their heads bashed in. Not only was Katherine good with a backhand, she also was pretty quick as well, since we only found the one frying pan (Exhibit C).

— if you are still reading this and keeping score, that means Katherine was leading by a count of three to one, unless of course we determine that Roger was responsible for the town, in which case he will leave as the ultimate victor. If I may interject some more personal narration into this report than I already have, I suspect that Roger and Katherine may have been in cahoots for the town death toll, so I would give them both 210 additional bodies. I have been ordered to complete this report in a timely fashion for the judge’s review, as in NOW, so I must.

Jenni, who was trying to hide behind her deceased father was found with an axe to her head which was found rolling around in the garage after a furtive search – we suspect that Jack thought the head was a chew toy, at least until he got wooed away from the scene, as there were many bite marks on the ears, and the head appeared to be dragged a short distance as well. Forensics is still trying to determine if the axe hit the head before or after decapitation. I’m inclined to call this one a tie.

Holly suffered a single gunshot wound to the head; her popcorn was spilled and resting on an iPhone with a cracked case. We believe that she saw what was coming and wanted to do it her way. Friends said that she will finally get some sleep, and hope it wasn’t truly a suicide, since her soul will never make it to Heaven now. She was very devout in her faith, from all accounts.

That leaves us with Katherine and Roger. One with an axe in the head, the other without one, if you have read this far I am sure that you will know which is which. Regardless, it was a real horrorgasm.


Sheriff Jeni Micha Tirk

For Judge

Jennifer Spencer

On this ninth day of November, in the year of our lord two thousand thirteen.





The room is at the end of the hallway.


I just hate hallways.

I really hate hallways in hotels.

The man behind the desk just told me that my room was at the end of the hallway.


Oh well, what better way to deal with ones fears than to face them head on right? I’m not sure who said that first but from my current vantage point, I think they can kiss my ass. Face your fears they say, well who the hell made them the authority? As cliche as it sounds, I will still have to ask, who the hell are they, anyway?

I have always hated hallways for as long as I can remember, it’s something to do with growing up on the road with a traveling band or something perhaps. Always spending time on the road in various hotels with many hallways lining the past, always moving on from one group of rooms to another.

Always with hallways.

Always with many doors.

Sometimes those doors had hidden messages that came in the form of drunks, pedophiles, hookers, or just plain dumb ass individuals that like to pick on kids that really shouldn’t be walking in hallways alone.

That still doesn’t deal with the current situation that I found myself in. I just checked in and the room number is 224, which is at the end of this hallway. This poorly lit, smelly hallway in which many people pass through on a daily basis, from the maids that purport to clean the rooms, to the drunks that sleep of the six-pack of beer they drank at the nearby bar because they are away from home and can only fight the loneliness with booze.

Yeah these hallways make me shake and quiver in fear for some reason.

The first step is always the hardest.

The next fifty or so aren’t too bad.

Room 216, the door opens.

I pause.

I see the foot of some footed pajamas worn by a three-year-old girl start to come out before the voice of her mother stops her from going any further. The door closes abruptly.

I breathe again.

I take another step.

I inhale and notice a new scent, one a mix of stale cigarettes and fresh mint gum.

Room 222, three more steps and sanctuary awaits for another night.

The rope was made of nylon so that when it slipped over my head there was nothing to snag and slow down the progress to my neck, not that it matters much anyway since it takes less than a second. I will be dead in approximately three minutes, unless something is done and done now.


The door opens and I open my eyes.

Closing the door allows me to return to reality and finally get my tie off.

I think I hate neckties more than hallways now.