JASON CARDEN was brutally gunned down last week by the wily Ellena Chmielewski. Here is her account of the event:
I got a tip from another assassin about where Jason buys snacks every week before his show.
So I went there and shot him. Then I bought myself some snacks, too.
We may never know what manner of snacks these were — sweet or savory, chocolate-flavored or fruit-flavored, nutritious or a sometimes-food, frozen or regular. But we do know this: Mr. Carden’s love of snacks were his downfall, and the momentary comfort one receives from the indulgence of a delectable between-meals treat are no substitute for the true security you can only feel in a broom closet in Syosset, stealing Wi-Fi from the copy shop on the first floor to publish kill reports written with one hand while the other clutches a sweat-drenched, loaded and cocked Nerf revolver, peering through the slats of the air conditioning vent with sleepless, bloodshot eyes and waiting for the smell of unlit matches or elaborate costumes to come wafting through the duct. That’s real safety. I have everything I need here and it will be weeks until they find me. I’ve been subsisting on floor cleaner and paper towels since the flies in the light fixtures ran out.
So farewell, Mr. Carden. Your prowess laid dormant this round, sadly, and your stealth and brutality will have to lie in reserve until the next.
LIVING PLAYERS, DON’T READ THIS: If anyone has any intel on Becky, Alan or Nivedita, come to Parcel Plus in Syosset, NY. Jarrod will light a sea breeze candle and hold it up to the fan above the copier so I know it’s safe to put my syringe of Drano away.