Standing over his wife’s lifeless body, bloody knife still in his hand, Marvin Michael Farquher heard the sirens , yet he did not move.

The cops broke the door in, guns drawn.

“Drop the knife,” Officer Charles shouted.

Marvin dropped the knife, it clattered to the tiled floor.

“Hands in the air, get down on the floor,” another officer said.

Marvin did as he was told.
“Davita is dead and I didn’t do it,” Marvin said robotically. “I swear I didn’t.”

“Yeah , yeah, that’s what they all say,” Officer Charles said while simultaneously shaking his head and rolling his eyes. “The bloody knife in your hand, your bloody footprints all over the floor, buddy we got more evidence on you then they had on OJ. Get him outta here.”

“Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt,â€? said the other officer, quoting Mark Twain.

“Ok, ok I might have done it, but it’s not my fault, see I had a lousy childhood, and it’s not like I cut off her head right, it’s just a little wound, youse can hardly even notice it,” Marvin babbled.