Brain Destruction and the Destroyers of Our World

Pre-Script:

Wanting to destroy someone's brain is a terrible thing, Nate. I'm with the United Negro College Fund on this one, in so many words.

Script:

Your vision of "peers, acquaintances, children, bums, retards, cripples, captains, women" who unwittingly (or wittingly, maybe I'm reading what isn't there into what is) destroy the world around us is, while not inaccurate, frustratingly non-specific. Particularly regarding captains. Which captains? Tugboat captains? Basketball team captains? Captain Crunch? I guess, Mr. Murphy, what I am asking you is:

Who exactly do you want me to kill?

Now, I can make a few learned assumptions on my own. Bums, for example, are easy enough to spot. Children as well. Both are sufficiently plentiful and malicious that discrimination is unnecessary. "...and let God sort them out," as the saying goes.

But what of the retards and cripples? Call me a pinko limp-wristed liberal tree-hugger if you must, but I have come to believe that not all of the people who fall within these categories are deservedly executed (at least not in Texas). While I don't disagree that there is a certain amount of herd-culling to be done, are there any further guidelines or parameters I should be aware of? Certainly I am not expected to cut a medieval-style swath through the next Special Olympics? I have pored over your directive with the finest of toothed combs, but I can find neither hint nor innuendo of any such instructions. Please, for future reference, provide a detailed list of the conditions/illnesses/frailties/uglies that are actionable. As soon as you can, please, for my scythe-sharpening grows wearisome.

As for "peers" and "acquaintances," I have precious few of these, and sadly, those I do have are dear enough to me that I would be hesitant to plunge a vengeful blade through their torso. Perhaps there is a preparatory course, preferably offered with some kind of online matriculation, which can help steel me mentally for such deeds? Or, alternatively, I can sign up for a ballroom dancing class. Let me know if this would be satisfactory.

The final two categories shall prove to be most difficult for me, however, and it is here where you may wish to seek outside help. I have briefly touched on my confusion over the "captains" directive, but regardless of target, any captain will be a formidable opponent indeed, as befitting their rank and insignia. They did not reach such lofty heights by mere accident, of course. Tugboat captains are a hardy bunch, basketball captains have impressive entourages to battle for them, and that Captain Crunch bastard has proven time and again that he cannot and will not b stopped. At least not by one as unworthy as myself, I am sad to admit. He may need to be taken down by more covert means; should you know any purveyors of fine poisons, a visit to Crunch Berry farms may prove most satisfying.

It is also well-established in the courts of both law and public opinion that I am watched with a most distrustful eye by all women, and as such am unlikely to sneak up on them unawares. Indeed, such a lack of "social graces" on my part is the main reason my reputation amongst the fairer sex is so ignoble. The mother-folk in particular are wary of my existence, as they do not seem to have taken kindly to my unrepentant slaying of their brood. Go fig. Alas, if lady-killing is your desire, I, good sir, am simply not your man.

Post-script:

All those years of peer review in creative writing courses has taught me that such an inconsistency as claiming to have your wasp-stomping boots on at the beginning of your story, and then having misplaced them by the end, is the sort of thing that would get pointed out incessantly while the overall theme of a world in decay and your general misanthropy goes largely unnoticed. Because it is the little things that truly matter, is it not?