"The Last Laugh"


Posted by tina4strngl on March 15, 20011 at 06:34:09:

Hi, everyone! The lst laugh is always best. Enjoy!

"The Last Laugh"

by tina

“You’re in a pickle, George,” I said scornfully to my darling husband, “I won’t divorce you and you can’t kill me so you might as well grin and bear it.” Perhaps if I hadn’t laughed it would have turned out differently. But I laughed and at first George had gotten a small grin on his fat puss. It was the look of resignation. Then his expression had changed.
He actually smiled as though he had solved the Times crossword. I watched as he loosened his necktie and realized immediately he intended to strangle me.

I placed a hand on the arm of the couch as I turned toward the front door. I was about to make a run for it when I realized the deadbolt was locked and George had the key in his pocket. He had the tie loose and around his palms when I turned back. I pushed back against the couch.

“George, please don’t” I begged in a whisper, “please don’t strangle me.”

“Don’t worry, darling, it will be over quickly.” It was George’s turn to laugh as he sat down on top of me. I pushed against his chest as he whipped the tie around my throat. In a calm state of mind I would have thought to gauge George’s eyes out. Instead my arms flailed about as George tied the silk tie around my throat and began to draw it tight. Even the scream had failed to stop him. I had never heard such a terrible sound in all my life. It was my scream. Perhaps shriek would be a more apt description of the final controlled sound I made before the hideous tie closed off my airway.

I looked up at George for the first time. I was frightened as I saw how intent he was on choking the life out of me. My eyes bulged as the terrible pressure built inside my head. I was vaguely aware of odd gasping, hideous groaning and horrid gurgling sounds. The noises seemed to be coming from a long way off. Of coarse they had been my feeble attempts
to get fresh air into my burning lungs. My brightly painted fingernails clawed at George’s necktie. I was only able to badly scratch my throat and to break three nails. The pain of my lacerated throat and broken nails was lost in the agony of the strangulation.

“Is that the tie I gave him for his last birthday?”

I was glad it would be over soon. Dizziness was enveloping my brain as George held his tie tightly wrapped around my crushed throat. That’s when he loosened the tie. The dizziness actually worsened, as I was able to suck in a gasp of air. Then my brain cleared a little.

“Oh, thank goodness,” I thought, “he’s come to his senses.”

George tapped me on the face to help revive me. “Not too quickly, darling,” George muttered sadistically as he pulled the tie tight with renewed gusto. George strangled me off and on for almost ten minutes before my old ticker gave out. My last coherent thought was “at least the bastard will get the rope.”

I was strangled dead and buried when my killer was caught. George had the last laugh because the police hauled in some local pervert who actually confessed to raping me and to my grisly strangulation. My darling husband rigged it to look like someone
had broken into the house, strangled me and sexually assaulted me. The bastard (my darling husband not the local pervert)posed my partially clothed corpse on the sofa where he had done the foul deed.

The poor old sot (the local pervert not damned George) was hanged for my murder and George married his secretary. Perhaps if I hadn’t laughed that day it would have all turned out differently.