I have out Amy’d Amy.
You see, I was sick of being in the friend zone. I’d finally had enough.
Oh, and this wasn’t a recent turn of events. I’d had enough of it when I was 16.
I had to get back at Amy for what she’d done to me: making me waste my entire adolescence in the friend zone. I could’ve been fucking other girls the whole time. Uglier ones, sure, but high school girls. Instead, I wasted all my time on her. And she knew it.
But getting back at Amy was going to take a lot of planning, and a lot of patience. I needed the perfect opportunity.
So I arranged my life so I’d be able to follow Amy’s doings. I never lived too far away from her, and of course, I stayed right there in the friend zone, hearing about her life during our regular meetups for hikes or for an early drink right before she had an actual date.
Amy told me she was thinking about disappearing. Since I was the friend who loved her so much I would never do anything to harm her, she could tell me anything and count on me to keep it a secret.
So when I saw that she went “missing,” I knew exactly what she was up to.
I also knew that she’d get into some kind of difficulty while she was on the run and need help, and when that happened, I knew exactly who she’d call. So I bought a cadaver and made it up to look like me. (Which I could do thanks to my years of makeup and special effects training that I’d undergone for this very purpose.) And then I shot a little security video of someone who looks just like Amy from behind (that would be me in a wig) killing me (that would be the cadaver).
“You’ll never pull this off,” you say. “They’ll figure out the body and video are fake.”
No they won’t. For two reasons:
Reason 1: It’s Missouri, and people are dumb.
Reason 2: Even if it weren’t Missouri and people weren’t dumb, with my family’s wealth and connections it’ll be easy to convince folks that a lengthy investigation isn’t necessary.
And what about me, you say? If the dead body isn’t me, then where am I?
I figured I’d go under the radar for a while by renting a little cabin in a dingy camping community in the Ozarks. Nobody’ll look for me here.
It’s actually not that bad. I’ve made a couple of new friends already. Their names are Jeff and Greta.