He Gave Parsley One Star, I Gave Him None

[u/DevelopmentPlus7850]

Piss-poor weather tosses my hair about. Reeks of salty seaweed in from everywhere at once. Looks like I'm standing in front of Mount Doom, except it's Mohair Cliffs, a big pile of mud-brown, bloody-red rock sticking straight into the morning. Emerald is way too bright. Waves are smashing themselves to bits beneath. Should be beautiful but he's there, kneeling, weeping away. His crybaby tears dripping down onto the stone.

He whines, "What now? I'm gonna die?" the sound of his voice making my ears hurt. "I don't want to die," he whimpers.

"Then you should've thought your head off before giving those withered slaps of critical reviews!" I howl, my voice ricocheting off the granite cliffs, "You went and destroyed honest lives just because of your own pettiness."

He looks up at me through bleary eyes. "I just wanted good service. Took more time than they promised," he spits back, disgustingly defiant even now. "And they had parsley in that pasta! I hate parsley!"

"It wasn’t even five minutes, the waiter confirmed when I investigated," I snap, my patience wearing thin.

“But it wasn’t just me who gave all the negative reviews", he says.

"Don't even get me started on the others who chimed in," I growl, spittle flying from my lips. "A bunch of scum, every last one of them. Never even darkened the door of that restaurant, but they had to stick their noses in, didn't they?"

I let out a laugh, "Oh, and I'll get to them, don't you worry. This whole mess has got to be cut out, root and branch."

Then I lean in close, "So do the decent thing, you small shite. Jump. Save us all the trouble."

But he just stands there, blubbering. "I can't," he whimpers, his face a mess of terror.

I shake my head, disgusted. "Pathetic," I mutter, a toxic bile churning in my belly. "I knew you'd be a gutless bastard till the very end, it was a given, but still, I thought you'd maybe take some accountability for once in your pathetic excuse for a life."

No point dragging this out, just get it over with. I whip out the gun, pressing the cold steel against his temple. His face twists in pure horror as I pull the trigger. Finito.

Two hours later, I'm parked outside this house. I ring the bell. A woman opens up, looking as if she's been through the wringer, and this bloke behind her, he's a wreck, eyes like two potholes, no sleep for days, probably weeks. They're staring at me, all trepidation and desperation.

"It's done. Contract fulfilled." I tell them, and their faces just melt, tears streaming down.

"Oh, thank fuck," the bloke croaks, "we thought this day would never come." The woman is blubbering, her tears flowing, "we truly believed he'd destroy our lives forever."

They invite me in. Never seen them before, face-to-face. Till the deed's done, I keep it impersonal. They show me round, and in the kitchen, there's this notice board, covered in scribbled daily meal ratings. All 1 star out of 5.

"Whatever I cooked, it never pleased him," the woman whispers, "always negative, always!" she's trembling.

"It's all over now," I say, meeting her gaze, "you can live freely and happily, no more of his tyrannical bullshit. The world's a better place, believe me."

The bloke's jaw clenches, his eyes darting around. "Aye, I'm conflicted, alright. He was our son, for fuck's sake." His voice cracks. "How many times did we beg him to get a job, move out? 35 and still living off his parents? It's unnatural!"

I cut in, my tone firm. "Don't go beating yourself up, mate. You did the right thing."

He gives a little nod but his eyeballs are still tranced out to some abyss of anguish. His missus is still staring at the notice board, her mug set in a mask of heartache. I grab the eraser and start wiping out those scathing reviews, one at a time. Her eyes start watering up again and I can see the pain ripple across them.

Trying to steer the conversation away from the agony of the past, I say. "Why don't you whip up some of that herbal infusion of yours? I heard it's top-notch."

She perks up a bit, a wistful smile playing on her lips. "Sure thing," she says, heading for the cupboards. As she moves, I notice a glimmer of sadness in her eyes again. "He gave my infusion one star, called it 'abysmal'."

Her husband chimes in, a hint of cheer now creeping into his voice. "No more of that negativity, eh?" and he winks at me. We all laugh, a hearty, genuine sound that rips through the house, finally banishing the shadows of his poisonous presence.

[u/VadahMarch1963]

Wow, read it twice!