Hitler’s Suicide (as told by a Hipster) By Matt Micheli

It’s actually a funny story.

Hiding away in this dirty, disgusting, shithole bunker . . .

This is after escaping multiple assassination attempts, right? He was sooo pissed. He slaughters 4000 people for revenge. After all this shit, he couldn’t handle the pressure and decides to off himself. Fucking jerk. But he doesn’t go alone, right? He has his girl Braun come hang with him in the bunker, beforehand. And this is right after he marries the girl, after, I don’t know, fifteen years of fucking her? And don’t forget the dogs. They were under a lot of pressure, too, according to Hitler, and he wasn’t about to let them keep suffering. He was a regular Kavorkian-Samaritan, a real peta-advocate kinda guy, an activist almost . . . for the dogs.

So anyway, poor Hitler woos this Braun chick, right? And gets on one knee, proposes. But by this point, I think this was more semantics than anything, because they hardly did it anymore. Braun was still a hot chick, but Hitler was just not that into it. I don’t know. It might’ve been work or the pressure for him to perform. Anyway, what’s funny about this Braun chick, right? Is that she tried committing suicide twice before. I mean, who tries to commit suicide? You either do it or you don’t. You don’t try. There’s no trying and failing. No one’s bad at killing themselves. If you really want to end your life, then you will. Failed attempts equal either A: You’re too scared to go through with it or B: You don’t really want to go through with it, right? You just want someone to notice you. And cuts and scrapes are great for getting noticed. Fucking bitch.

So anyway, here’s how all this all went down, right? Braun starts threatening to take her own life and all that shit and starts pleading hysterically, all over-dramatic-drama-queen style, ‘I can’t handle it, anymore’ and ‘I don’t want to live in this shithole!” Yadda, yadda, yadda.

And then Hitler’s like, ‘I can’t believe I left my bros for this shit. This place is a wreck. What do you do all day? You sure as hell don’t fucking clean.’

This Braun chick’s like, ‘Fuck you, Hitler. Fuck . . . you.’

Hitler says, ‘Oh, fuck me? Fuck me? No . . . Fuck you! You drunken bitch.’

Braun’s all confused, looking around, and then Hitler’s like, ‘I know about your secret booze stash, you drunk. I know.’

And Braun’s all, ‘I can’t do this with you, anymore.’

Hitler says, ‘What does that even mean?’

And she’s like, ‘I’m gonna fucking . . . kill myself.’

Oh, Hitler gets pissed, right? And laughs because he’s seen this song and dance before and says, ‘Ohhh . . . cause you’re so good at that, aren’t you? You fucking liar.’

She’s crying, but trying to cry harder, like pushing the tears out. ‘I’m serious this time. I’m gonna fucking do it!’

Hitler’s had it, now, right? Fumes are coming off of him. He laughs at her and says, ‘If you’re going to fucking do it, then do it already!’ And then, ‘I’ll help you, since you suck at it, just like you suck at cleaning this fucking house!’

Braun is really bawling at this point, but she’s still trying to bawl harder.

Hitler’s all sarcastic, ‘Boo hoo.’ He says it all shitty, rubs his eyes like a baby.

He grabs the cyanide pills she’s pretended to swallow before, right? And shoves two into her mouth. Her pride doesn’t let her try to stop him. She swallows them down. Then he’s all, ‘I love you.’ He looks into her eyes slowly, deeply, and they embrace in the most passionate kiss you could imagine, right? Her tear smeared mascara gets all over him.

He says, crying now, ‘If we’re going, we’re going as a family. I don’t want these dogs to grow up in this world alone.’ He gives them some pills.

After like ten minutes, right? He starts to think her cyanide pills are aspirin or something. He asks all insinuatingly, ‘Hey, are you sure those were cyanide? Because I had a slight tension headache earlier, and now it’s gone.’

She just looks at him with the meanest, piercing look you’ve ever seen, like, are you fucking kidding me, Hitler?Really?

And he’s like, ‘I was just wondering. Jeez.’

And then Hitler, right? He tells her, ‘I’m sorry I haven’t given you much sexual attention, lately. It’s just that work has really stressed me out.’

And she’s like, ‘It’s not me?’

He’s all, ‘No way, Braun. You’re the hottest chick I’ve ever seen. You’re smoking.’

She smiles and says, ‘I needed to hear that.’

He looks at her for a second and says, ‘I really do love you, Braun.’

And then he shoots all of them, starting with her, then the dogs, and then himself.

Ha. Ha. Funny, right?

Matt Micheli is a transgressive fiction writer out of Austin, TX, author of MEMOIRS OF A VIOLENT SLEEPER: A BEDTIME STORY. His analytical, sometimes satirical, and often times blunt views of love, loss, life, and beyond are expressed through his writing. For him, writing is an escape from the everyday confines of what the rest of us call normal. He can be found at www.violentsleeper.com.

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